In friendly mood, caught up the sound,
And flying round the monarch's head,
Breathed in his ear the words she said.
The streamlet, with a deep drawn sigh,
In silv'ry tones, made this reply:
"Illustrious oak, pray deign to hear,
'Twill not disgrace thee—none are near,
And I this once a word would say,
As I am wending on my way;—
Behold that path wind through the grass,