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.