The starlings they have come to town,
With polka dots on their robes of brown;
They sit a crowd on the old plane tree,
And sing this quaint old melody
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
They come with winter snow and sleet—
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
Oh, starling, starling, tell me true
Of pleasant lands that have sheltered you
Of running brook and woodland tree!
This is the tale he told to me
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
Above the hum of busy street—
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
The starlings all will fly away,
With ice and snow on a sunshine day,
Starling, starling, do not go!
I miss your pretty singing so
Chirp, chirp, cheep, cheep, tweet, tweet, sweet!
’Tis but the sparrows in the street—
Chirp, chirp, cheep, cheep, tweet, tweet, sweet!
In summer, in a woodland glade,
When I shall walk all unafraid,
Lured by the blossom and the bee,
I’ll hear this quaint old melody
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
And echo call from her retreat—
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
The starlings they have come from town,
With polka dots on their robes of brown
Oh, starling, starling, tell me true,
Of city far, now what think you?
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
This fine tale he did repeat—
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!