As we pass through the cool forest and meadows
I hear them whistling,
sitting in the trees,
and in the grass;
although I cannot see them,
Here, the first, repeating: “Bob…White!”
There, the second: “I am Bob…White!”
In the distance, the third: “Robert…White.”
Thither, the fourth: “I am Rob… White.”
Yon, the fifth: “Robbie… White here”.
Over here, the sixth: “Robere…White”.
Over there, the seventh: “Bobbie… White”.
And in that place, the eighth: “Roberto…White”.
There sure are a lot of Bob Whites today.