Birds, Bees and Blossoms :: :: University of Virginia Library

The smallest bird that walks am I,
You know me by my wagging tail,
And my piercing round black eye;
Through frost, through snow, through rain or hail,
I stay here all the winter through,
And that is more than some birds do.

Where water is, there you'll find me,
For insects are in plenty there;
And no bird can them sooner see.
The coldest day in all the year
I can contrive to find a meal,
When the black frost cuts like steel.

You never see me hop, hop, hop,
As if my legs were tied together,
But one foot at a time I drop,
As if I wore real patent leather.
I stride out like a grenadier,
Right, left, quick march, and I am here.

I often peck about a pump,
And laugh to see the birds hop round;
Like men tied in a sack they jump,
With both their stiff legs off the ground,
Whilst I step out with my one, two,
And time my steps as well as you.

We Wagtails oft turn out for drill,
And are put in the awkward squad,
If we do our duty ill;
“Eyes right, toes out, heels in, my lad,”
Is our old drill sergeant's cry,
And if we don't keep time, oh, my!
Won't he in a passion fly!