 | Songs and Lyrics |  |
125
The Wounded Bird.
“Why thus ever on the wing?
Why those woful notes that bring
To the eyes of one and all a briny tear?
Down into thy nest alight;
Rest, and in the morning bright,
We'll yet hear from thee a carol sweet to hear!”
Why those woful notes that bring
To the eyes of one and all a briny tear?
Down into thy nest alight;
Rest, and in the morning bright,
We'll yet hear from thee a carol sweet to hear!”
“Ah, an arrow's in my breast;
And when I but touch my nest
I'm e'er deeper pain'd and wounded, and must fly
And wail, and fly and wail,
Till, lo, my pinions fail,
When adown into my nest I'll drop and die!”
And when I but touch my nest
I'm e'er deeper pain'd and wounded, and must fly
And wail, and fly and wail,
Till, lo, my pinions fail,
When adown into my nest I'll drop and die!”
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