Tink, tink, tink,
Hear the pretty pieces clink.
How the busy worker sings
As his tiny hammer rings.
Little songs are fashioned so,
Placed all sweetly in a row.
Stars and colored bits of glass,
Look in, children, as you pass;
See, the songsmith's happy things,
Bells, and laughs, and fairy wings;
Silver-dreams and dreams of gold—
(Songsmith, are you really old?—
Making pretty songs all day—
Are you really old and gray?)
Tink, tink, tink,
We can hear the chink;
Pretty songs are fashioned so,
Placed all sweetly in a row.
See the songsmith's happy things—
Bells and laughs and fairy wings,
Stars, and all-assorted things.