NATURE STUDY IX SCHOOLS. 2f)9 



THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 



BY 



J. Hubert Scott 



Tiny little tapper of the trees, 

 Why so earnest in thy quest today? 



Can it be the Fates to thee decreed 

 Work should never yield to play? 



With that flock of sparrows flashing by, 

 Flinging noisily into bush and tree 



Hast thou ne'er an answer to their cry; 

 Does it not appeal to thee? 



Art thou greedy, art thou bashful? Why? 

 Is it pride in yonder crest of red? 



Say my little 'ristocrat so shy 

 Hast thou ever seen thy head? 



Up and down and round and round you go, 

 Every spot thy zealous glance hath seen; 



Thus it is when all is white with snow 

 Thus it is when all is green. 



Pause one moment little bird I pray, 

 For I fain would see if bird thou art ; 



Man or bird that knows no moment's play 

 Ever fails life's truest part. 



