Look, what a pretty Bird I've got!
In yonder island field 'twas caught;
Just see its breast and painted wings,
And listen, John, how sweet it sings.
Do let me keep it, I'll engage
To mind it safely in this cage;
And not a moment will I ask
To idle from my school or task.
I'll feed you well, my pretty Bird,
With worms and crumbs of bread and seed,
And no ill-natured cat is here
To fill your little breast with fear.
Said kind Mama, O do not so,
But haste, Maria, let it go
And then among the feathered throng,
'Twill treat you with its pretty song.