The Woodpigeon

When the harvest all was gathered

In the sunny autumn weather,

To the greenwood, blithe and merry,

We went nutting all together;

And as the woods we wander'd

So dim and dark and green,

We heard a sweet voice calling

Though no one could be seen:

"Two sticks across,

And a little bit of moss;

It'll do, it'll do it'll do, Coo, coo, coo".

The wild things of the woodlands

Scarce seemed of us afraid;

The blue Jay flash'd before us,

And the squirrel near us played.

We ate our nuts and rested

On a fallen tree, moss-grown,

And still a voice kept calling

In the softest, tend'rest tone:

"Two sticks across,

And a little bit of moss;

It'll do, it'll do it'll do, Coo, coo, coo".