What little bird is this that sings? I wonder if he comes from France: Lord, how he sings, and makes our leaves In happy England dance! What's in his song; is it sweet laughter, Or anger that he crossed the water? A song of roses, apples, corn, Seen here in England -- not his home; Or lilies, olives, and the grapes In France, across the foam? No matter, little friend from France -- Sing till our leaves in England dance. |