In a meadow so green, the hedges between,
My jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey;
Upon a man's hand, She perch'd did stand,
In sport, and trifle, and full array.
6
Who's got her may keep her as best he can,
My jolly goss-hawk, and her wings were grey;
To every man she is frolic and free,
I'll cast her off if she come my way.
[No 72 THE SONG OF THE MOOR]
C.J.S.
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