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Sing, little birdie, sing
On topmost branches high!
And when thou spreadst thy airy wing,
Let not the sweet notes die,

 

But longer, louder be,
Until the echoes ring
That hide away where none may see,
But only hear them sing.

 

Methinks that I could stay
Forever with thee here,
And list thy strain the livelong day,
Forgetting sorrow's tear.