A lit-tle girl
Read in her book,
How a wick-ed boy
A wild bird took
From out its nest
In the green-wood tree
A cap-tive now
'Tis forced to be,
And flutters its poor wings all day long,
And beats the bars of its cage so strong.
"Poor lit-tle bird!"
She soft-ly cried;
Then on her head
Her hood she tied,
Took down the cage
Of her own bird,
Opened the door,
With joy-ous word.
"Fly, lit-tle bird, a-way," quoth she,
Back to your home in the green-wood tree.
A-way, a-way,
The glad bird flew,
Far out of sight,
In heav-ens blue.
The wee girl watched
With won-der-ing eye,
Till it had fad-ed
In the sky,
Then sat her down, and cried, "Boo-hoo!
My bird is gone! What shall I do?"
Her pin-a-fore
With tears was wet:
"My bird a-gain,
I'll nev-er get."
At last she raised
Her weep-ing eye,
And there at hand,
What should she spy
But bird-ie hop-ping in his door,
Tired of his free-dom, back once more.
