The Wise Old Owl

In the still of the night, when the moon is high,
You can hear the owl’s cry.
Too-whit-too-woo; too-whit-too-woo,
I wonder who he’s calling?

His two big eyes are open wide,
As he nodes his head from side to side,
He looks so wise and oh! so clever,
I’m sure he’ll live for ever and ever.

I wonder why he wakes at night,
And disappeares when it is light,
But I’m sure that he knows best,
When it’s time for owls to rest.