In a windy tree-top sitting,
Singing at the fall of dew,
Katy watched the bats a-flitting,
While the twilight's curtains drew
Closer round her; till she only
Saw the branches and the sky--
Rocking late and rocking lonely,
Anchored on the darkness high.
And the song that she was singing,
In the windy tree-tops swinging,
Was _under the tree, under the tree_
_The fox is digging a pit for me_.
When the early stars were sparkling
Overhead, and down below
Fireflies twinkled, through the darkling
Thickets she heard footsteps go--
Voice of her false lover speaking,
Laughing to his sweetheart new:--
"Half my heart for thee I'm breaking:
Did not Katy love me true?"
Then no longer she was singing,
But through all the wood kept ringing--
_Katy did, Katy did, Katy did love thee_
_And the fox is digging a grave for me_.