My photograph of the actual manuscript is above. Have a go at transcribing it yourself, this is very typical of the many manuscripts within the various archives.
Above the oak tree tops at play,
Of “chipichap” throughout the day.
Its nest is built in little bush
Scarcely a foot above the ground,
Or hid in clumps of sedge or rush
In woods where they are rarely found.
With moss and leaves and bits of grass,
& all so nice and snugly laid
That hands may spoil but not replace.
From farm yards poultry hovels stole;
Its eggs are small and spotted red.
If I forbore the gate to clap,
Down that wood riding day by day
I’ve heard it singing ‘chipichap,’
Dancing about, a fairy thing, [ with the line above
But never yet could come so nigh
To tell the colour of its wing.
Theyre often in
Where sedges mingle with the rest.