Page:The Zankiwank & the Bletherwitch (IA zankiwankblether00fitziala).pdf/69

For London fogs so very black
 Our tempers disarrange,
And so we skip with piping trip,
 To have our yearly change.

   Pee wit! Tu! whoo!
    How do you do?
   Tweet! tweet! chip! chip!
   Chiff! chaff! chiff chay!
   Weet wee! weet weet! sweet way!
         Cuckoo!

We sing our songs in London Town,
 To make the workers gay;
And seeds and crumbs they throw us down—
 ’Tis all we ask as pay.

We make them think of fields all green
 And long-forgotten things;
Of far-off hopes and dreams a-sheen
 And love with golden wings.