If Ever I See

If Ever I See :




If ever I see,

On bush or tree,

Young birds in their pretty nest,

I must not in play,

Steal the birds away,

To grieve their mother's breast.



My mother, I know,

Would sorrow so,

Should I be stolen away;

So I'll speak to the birds

In my softest words,

Nor hurt them in my play.



And when they can fly

In the bright blue sky,

They'll warble a song to me;

And then if I'm sad

It will make me glad

To think they are happy and free.





























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If Ever I See
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