Classic Poem

Oh! merry is the life
Of a beach-bird free,
Dwelling by the side
Of the sounding sea, —
Where the little children
Chase us as we go;
Where the pretty shells
Murmur sweet and low;
Where the old folk sit,
Basking in the sun;
Where the fisher-folk
Rest when work is done.
" Peep! Peep! Peep! " we say,
Tripping to and fro
On the pebbly shore,
Where the ripples flow.

Oh! merry is the life
Of a beach-bird free,
Building our nests
By the sounding sea,
Seeking daily food,
And feeding with care
The dear little ones
Safely hidden there,
Teaching them to fly
Boldly o'er the sea, —
On the weak wings they
Flutter timidly.
" Peep! Peep! Peep! " we say,
Brooding there on high, —
Sea-weed beneath us,
Above us the sky.

Oh! happy is the life
Of a beach-bird free,
Playing our blithe games
By the sounding sea.
High o'er the billows,
In gay flocks we sail,
Kissed by the cool spray,
Ruffled by the gale,
Watching the great ships
As onward they glide,
Like white-winged birds,
O'er the restless tide.
" Peep! Peep! Peep! " we say,
Dancing in the sun,
Where no harm can reach
From storm, dog, or gun.

Oh! merry is the life
Of a beach-bird free;
Few griefs molest us
By the sounding sea.
If rude winds destroy
Our nests built with care,
Patiently we work
The loss to repair;
If chilled by the gust,
Or wet by the rain,
We do not fret, but
Wait for sun again.
" Peep! Peep! Peep! " we say,
Where'er we may be;
Which means, little child,
" Hurrah for the sea! "