And from St. Bennet Fink they go astray
To dear St. Mary Overy—the Mary
Over the way!
Oh! if my godmother were but a fairy,
With magic wand, how I would beg and pray
That she would change me into that canary
Over the way!
I envy everything that’s near Miss Lindo,
A pug, a poll, a squirrel or a jay—
Blest blue-bottles! that buzz about the window