Blithe carolling, she made these sweet remarks—
“Ah! little minstrel of the air so free,
None of thy kindred can discourse like thee;
Whilst list’ning to thy solo—charming thing—
I long to be a bird to choose thee king;
If so, I’d crown thee with pure wreaths of gold,
And then adventurously would make so bold
To claim thy friendship; yes, and seek thy love:
It may be thou art he that Arnold strove
One day so perseveringly to catch,