And safely reached their nest, The little birdies' happy home Of sweet delight and rest. Meanwhile, poor naughty Downy flew From off the chestnut tree, Away towards the milk-white bird That skimmed the waters free. But ah! his wings were much too weak To bear him all the way, And Downy fell imploring aid From loved ones far away. But no help came. The mother bird Was far off gathering food, From perfumed clover meadows round, For her beloved brood. And when she reached her nest and found But two birds there alone, And heard that Downy to the pond So wilfully had flown, Her heart, so lately full of joy, Was rent with grief and pain, For fear lest she should never see Her darling bird again. Calling upon his name she flew, In terror, far and near, From tree to pond, from pond to tree, Seeking her birdie dear. She called; alas, no answer came To that poor mother's cry, She searched among the sweet, wild flowers, And chestnut branches high. At length she spied a tiny speck Beside the waters clear, It was, alas, the lifeless form Of her lost Downy dear. She drew him on the soft green grass, And chafed his lifeless form, Opened his glassy eyes and mouth, And tried his limbs to warm. But all in vain, her darling bird Was dead, and nevermore