And the little Lark does fly
To the middle of the sky;
You may hear his merry tune
In the morning very soon;
For he does not like to rest,
Idle, in his downy nest.
While the cock is crowing shrill,
Leave my little bed I will,
And I’ll rise to hear the Lark,
For it is no longer dark;
’Twould be a pity there to stay,
When ’tis light and pleasant day.
FOR NANNIE.
A plum so blue, a cherry red,
An orange bright and yellow;
A pippin green, as e’er was seen,
And peaches rich and mellow.
All, all of these will mama give
To lassie good and bonnie, O,
So papa down, to Boston town,
And buy them all for Nannie, O.