Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OF THE CHILD WITH THE BIRD AT THE BUSH, by JOHN BUNYAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

OF THE CHILD WITH THE BIRD AT THE BUSH, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: My little bird, how canst thou sit
Last Line: The bird flies yonder o'er the field.
Subject(s): Birds


My little Bird, how canst thou sit;
And sing amidst so many Thorns!
Let me but hold upon thee get,
My Love with Honour thee adorns.
Thou art at present little worth;
Five farthings none will give for thee.
But prethee little Bird come forth,
Thou of more value art to me.
'Tis true, it is Sun-shine to day,
To morrow Birds will have a Storm;
My pretty one, come thou away,
My Bosom then shall keep thee warm.
Thou subject art to cold o' nights,
When darkness is thy covering;
At days thy danger 's great by Kites,
How canst thou then sit there and sing?
Thy food is scarce and scanty too,
'Tis Worms and Trash which thou dost eat;
Thy present state I pity do,
Come, I'll provide thee better meat.
I'll feed thee with white Bread and Milk,
And Sugar-plums, if them thou crave;
I'll cover thee with finest Silk,
That from the cold I may thee save.
My Father's Palace shall be thine,
Yea, in it thou shalt sit and sing;
My little Bird, if thou'lt be mine,
The whole year round shall be thy Spring.
I'll teach thee all the Notes at Court;
Unthought of Musick thou shalt play;
And all that thither do resort
Shall praise thee for it ev'ry day.
I'll keep thee safe with Cat and Cur,
No manner o' harm shall come to thee;
Yea, I will be thy Succourer,
My Bosom shall thy Cabbin be.
But lo, behold, the Bird is gone:
These Charmings would not make her yield:
The Child's left at the Bush alone,
The Bird flies yonder o'er the Field.








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