| lyric | Was once a pretty tiny birdie flew
where fruit in farden fair hung bright to view.
A tiny bird i were,
I’d fly away and seek yon garden fair.
Limetwings and treach’ry all its branches bore,
ah, hapless birdie, thou wilt fly no more!
If that a pretty tiny bird I were,
I think of yonder garden I’d beware;
The birdie came in hand of lady bright,
and tere he had full store of fond delight!
If that a pretty, tiny bird were I,
like him to yonder garden straight I’d fly! |