Here's the pretty Dove,
That mourns for her love.
Who'll bear the pall?
We, say the Wrens,
Both the cock and the hen,
And we'll bear the pall.
Here are the Wrens so small,
Who bore Cock Robin's pall.
Who'll sing a psalm?
I, said the Thrush,
As he sat in the bush;
And I'll sing a psalm.
Here's a fine Thrush,
Singing psalms in a bush.
Who'll toll the bell?
I, said the Bull,
Because I can pull;
So Cock Robin, farewell.
Here is the Bull,
Who said he could pull.