O dearest Jenny Wren, if you will but be mine, You shall feed on cherry-pie, you shall, and drink new currant-wine; I'll dress you like a goldfinch, or any peacock gay : So, dearest Jen, if you'll be mine, let us appoint the day. Jenny blush'd behind her fan, and thus declared her mind: Since, dearest Bob, I love you well, I'll take your offer kind; Cherry-pie is very nice, and so is currant-wine, But I must wear my plain brown gown, and never go too fine. Robin Redbreast rose up early all at the break of day, And he flew to Jenny Wren's house, and sung a roundelay; He sang of Robin Redbreast and little Jenny Wren, And when he came unto the end, he then began again. THERE Lived in a cherry-tree, He chirp'd and sung from morn to night, No bird so blithe as he; And this the burden of his song For ever used to be, Good boys shall have cherries as soon as they're ripe, But naughty boys none from me. |