The Dinkey Bird
In an ocean, ‘way out yonder(As all sapient people know),Is the land of Wonder-Wander,Whither children love to go;It’s their playing, romping, swinging,That give great joy to meWhile the Dinkey-Bird goes singingIn the amfalula tree!
There the gum-drops grow like cherries,And taffy’s thick as peas—Caramels you pick like berriesWhen, and where, and how you please;Big red sugar-plums are clingingTo the cliffs beside that seaWhere the Dinkey-Bird is singingIn the amfalula tree.
So when children shout and scamperAnd make merry all the day,When there’s naught to put a damperTo the ardor of their play;When I hear their laughter ringing,Then I’m sure as sure can beThat the Dinkey-Bird is singingIn the amfalula tree.
For the Dinkey-Bird’s bravurasAnd staccatos are so sweet—His roulades, appoggiaturas,And robustos so complete,That the youth of every nation—Be they near or far away—Have especial delectationIn that gladsome roundelay.
Their eyes grow bright and brighter,Their lungs begin to crow,Their hearts get light and lighter,And their cheeks are all aglow;For an echo cometh bringingThe news to all and me,That the Dinkey-Bird is singingIn the amfalula tree.
I’m sure you like to go thereTo see your feathered friend—And so many goodies grow thereYou would like to comprehend!Speed, little dreams, your wingingTo that land across the seaWhere the Dinkey-Bird is singingIn the amfalula tree!