JENNY AND TIMOTHY WREN
by George Bennett
Sweet little, neat little Miss Jenny Wren,
On a white hawthorn spray,
In the bright month of May,
Sat chirping so sweet,
"Pewhit and pewheet,"
Where daisies unfold.
And kingcups of gold
Shine out on a glad May morning.
Down-crested, brown-breasted Timothy Wren,
As he fluttered along,
Trilled the snatch of a song;
Then chirruped her name
As near her he came,
And told of his love,
As meek as a dove,
To Jenny, that bright May morning.
"Hear, Jenny, dear Jenny, sweet Jenny Wren:
If you'll be my own wife,
I will love you through life;
We'll gather the moss,
Soft feathers, and floss;
And build us a nest,
The neatest and best,
And sing through the bright May mornings."
May blossoms, gay blossoms, curtained their nest:
Through the tiny mouse-hole,
Little Jenny she stole;
There, of no one afraid,
Ten fine eggs she laid,
While Timothy dear
Sang blithely and clear,
"How sweet are the bright May mornings!"
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