John James Audobon

1780-1851

Some men live for warlike deeds,

Some for women’s words.

John James Audubon

Lived to look at birds.

Pretty birds and funny birds,

All our native fowl

From the little cedar waxwing

To the Great Horned Owl.

Let the wind blow hot or cold,

Let it rain or snow,

Everywhere the birds went

Audubon would go.

Scrambling through a wilderness,

Floating down a stream,

All around America

In a feathered dream.

Thirty years of traveling,

Pockets often bare,

(Lucy Bakewell Audubon

Patched them up with care).

Followed grebe and meadowlark,

Saw them sing and splash.

(Lucy Bakewell Audubon

Somehow raised the cash).

Drew them all the way they lived

In their habitats.

(Lucy Bakewell Audubon

Sometimes wondered “Cats?”)

Colored them and printed them

In a giant book,

“Birds of North America”—

All the world said, “Look!”

Gave him medals and degrees,

Called him noble names,

—Lucy Bakewell Audubon

Kissed her queer John James.