To die on that hollow tree,
And there as he hung,
And there as he swung
In the night-wind to and fro,
That vengeful bird
Was often heard,
When scarcely a breath the forest stirred,
In screamings high,
All the night to cry,
To whit, to whit, to woo.
To die on that hollow tree,
And there as he hung,
And there as he swung
In the night-wind to and fro,
That vengeful bird
Was often heard,
When scarcely a breath the forest stirred,
In screamings high,
All the night to cry,
To whit, to whit, to woo.