The Snow-Bird

When all the ground with snow is white,

The merry snow-bird comes,

And hops about with great delight

To find the scattered crumbs.

How glad he seems to get to eat

A piece of cake or bread!

He wears no shoes upon his feet,

No hat upon his head!

But happiest is he, I know,

Because no cage with bars

Keeps him from walking in the snow

And printing it with stars.