Three secrets, all so marvellous and rare,
His race knew nought that might with these compare.
The carle prick’d up his ears amain; he loos’d
The songster thrall, by love of gain seduc’d;
Up to the summit of the pine-tree’s shade
Sped the blithe bird, and there at ease he stay’d,
And trick’d his plumes full leisurely, I trow,
Till the carle claim’d his promise from below:
‘Right gladly,’ quoth the bird; ‘now grow thee wise:
All human prudence few brief lines comprise: