See him on the apple-tree,
Looking down so bold and free!
Now that he his wings can show us,
He pretends he does not know us.
Ah, you rogue! are you aware
How deserters often fare?
Come, be good, and I'll not chide:
See, the door is open wide.

Were you not well treated by us?
Why, then, do you thus defy us?
Salad every morning early,
Crumbs of bread, and grains of barley,
Sugar, now and then a berry,
And in June a nice ripe cherry,—
These were yours; don't be ungrateful;
To desert us is too hateful.

Now 'tis pleasant all, and sunny,
Bees are busy making honey,
You can flit from bough to bough,
You can sing and twitter now:
Wait till winter comes, you rover,
Then your frolic will be over.
Cats are on the roof already:
Birdie, dear, come back to Freddy.

Peep and peep! What then, deserter?
Was there creature ever perter?
Mine you are; to me belong;
Me you owe each day a song.
Darling, here's your cage all clean;
Come, I say, and don't be mean;
Come, and be once more our pet,
And your fault we will forget.

Ha! he takes his merry flight,
And the little bird is right.
No deserter, child, is he,
Who escapes to liberty.
Air and sun and open sky
Birdie likes, as you and I.
Paid to him is now your debt,
And I'm glad: so do not fret.