 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
26
THE MISTRESS'S REPLY TO HER LITTLE BIRD.
Dear little bird, don't make this piteous cry,
My heart will break to hear thee thus complain
Gladly, dear little bird, I'd let thee fly,
If that were likely to relieve thy pain.
My heart will break to hear thee thus complain
Gladly, dear little bird, I'd let thee fly,
If that were likely to relieve thy pain.
Base was the boy who climbed the tree so high,
And took thee, bare and shivering, from thy nest;
But no, dear little bird, it was not I,
There's more of soft compassion in my breast.
And took thee, bare and shivering, from thy nest;
But no, dear little bird, it was not I,
There's more of soft compassion in my breast.
But when I saw thee gasping wide for breath,
Without one feather on thy callow skin,
I begged the cruel boy to spare thy death,
Paid for thy little life, and took thee in.
Without one feather on thy callow skin,
I begged the cruel boy to spare thy death,
Paid for thy little life, and took thee in.
Fondly I fed thee, with the tenderest care,
And filled thy gaping beak with nicest food,
Gave thee new bread and butter from my share,
And then with chick weed green thy dwelling strewed.
And filled thy gaping beak with nicest food,
Gave thee new bread and butter from my share,
And then with chick weed green thy dwelling strewed.
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Soon downy feathers dressed thy naked wing,
Smoothed by thy little beak with beauish care;
And many a summer's evening wouldst thou sing,
And hop from perch to perch with merry air.
Smoothed by thy little beak with beauish care;
And many a summer's evening wouldst thou sing,
And hop from perch to perch with merry air.
But if I now should loose thy prison door,
And let thee out into the world so wide,
Unused to such a wondrous place before,
Thou'dst want some friendly shelter where to hide.
And let thee out into the world so wide,
Unused to such a wondrous place before,
Thou'dst want some friendly shelter where to hide.
Thy brother birds would peck thy little eyes,
And fright the stranger from their woods away,
Fierce hawks would chase thee trem bling through the skies,
Or crouching pussy mark thee for her prey.
And fright the stranger from their woods away,
Fierce hawks would chase thee trem bling through the skies,
Or crouching pussy mark thee for her prey.
Sad, on the lonely blackthorn wouldst thou sit,
Thy mournful song unpitied and unheard;
And when the wintry wind and driving sleet
Came sweeping o'er, they'd kill my pretty bird.
Thy mournful song unpitied and unheard;
And when the wintry wind and driving sleet
Came sweeping o'er, they'd kill my pretty bird.
Then do not pine, my favourite, to be free,
Plume up thy wings, and clear that sullen eye;
I would not take thee from thy native tree,
But now 'twould kill thee soon, to let thee fly.
Plume up thy wings, and clear that sullen eye;
I would not take thee from thy native tree,
But now 'twould kill thee soon, to let thee fly.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |