The lit-tle bird fares well in Spring,
For all she wants she finds enough,
And ev'ry casual common thing
She makes her own without rebuff.

2.

First wool and hair from sheep and cow;
Then twig and straw to bind them fast,
From thicket and from thatch, and now,
A little nest is built at last.

3.

From out that little nest shall rise,
When woods are warm, a living song,
A music mix't with light that flies
Thro' flutt'ring shades the leaves among.

4.

O little bird, take everything
And build thy nest without rebuff,
And when thy nest is builded, sing!
For who can praise thy song enough?


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