“BIRDIE, Birdie, will you pet?
Summer-time is far away yet,
You'll have silken quilts and a velvet bed,
And a pillow of satin for your head!”
“I'd rather sleep in the ivy wall;
No rain comes through, tho’ I hear it fall;
The sun peeps gay at dawn of day,
And I sing, and wing away, away!”
“O Birdie, Birdie, will you pet?
Diamond-stones and amber and jet
We'll string for a necklace fair and fine
To please this pretty bird of mine!”
“O thanks for diamonds, and thanks for jet,
But here is something daintier yet,—
A feather-necklace round and round,
That I would n't sell for a thousand pound!”
“O Birdie, Birdie, wo n't you pet?
We'll buy you a dish of silver fret,
A golden cup and an ivory seat,
And carpets soft beneath your feet!”
“Can running water be drunk from gold?
Can a silver dish the forest hold?
A rocking twig is the finest chair,
And the softest paths lie through the air,—
Good-bye, good-bye to my lady fair!”