Sing Heigh-Ho!

There sits a bird on every tree;
    Sing heigh-ho!
There sits a bird on every tree,
And courts his love as I do thee;
    Sing heigh-ho, and heigh-ho!
    Young maids must marry.

There grows a flower on every bough;
    Sing heigh-ho!
There grows a flower on every bough,
Its petals kiss - I'll show you how:
    Sing heigh-ho, and heigh-ho!
    Young maids must marry.

From sea to stream the salmon roam;
    Sing heigh-ho!
From sea to stream the salmon roam;
Each finds a mate, and leads her home;
    Sing heigh-ho, and heigh-ho!
    Young maids must marry.

The sun's a bridegroom, earth a bride;
    Sing heigh-ho!
They court from morn till eventide:
The earth shall pass, but love abide.
    Sing heigh-ho, and heigh-ho!
    Young maids must marry.

Eversley, 1847.

Charles Kingsley

Charles Kingsley was an English writer, historian, and clergyman born on June 12, 1819, in Holne, Devon. He was associated with the Christian Socialist movement and was a friend of prominent figures such as Charles Darwin. Kingsley is best known for his historical novels, including 'Westward Ho!' and 'Hypatia,' as well as his children's book 'The Water-Babies.' His works often explore social issues and aim to contribute to societal reform. Kingsley died on January 23, 1875, in Eversley, Hampshire.

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English

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Seven Times Four. Maternity.

Heigh ho! daisies and buttercups,
Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall!
When the wind wakes how they rock in the grasses,
And dance with the cuckoo-buds slender and small!
Here's two bonny boys, and here's mother's own lasses,
Eager to gather them all.

Heigh ho! daisies and buttercups!
Mother shall thread them a daisy chain;
Sing them a song of the pretty hedge-sparrow,
That loved her brown little ones, loved them full fain;
Sing, "Heart, thou art wide though the house be but narrow" -
Sing once, and sing it again.

Heigh ho! daisies and buttercups,
Sweet wagging cowslips, they bend and they bow;
A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters,
And haply one musing doth stand at her prow.
O bonny brown sons, and O sweet little daughters,
Maybe he t...

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The Little Handmaiden.

The King's son walks in the garden fair -
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!

The sun shines bright through the casement high -
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
The little handmaid, with a laughing eye,
Looks down on the king's son, strolling by.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!

"He little knows that the bride is gone,
And the Earl knows little as he;
She is fled with her lover afar last night,
And the King's son is left to me."

And back to her chamber with velvety step
The little handmaid did glide,
And a gold key took from her bosom sweet,
And opened the great chests wide.

S...

Archibald Lampman

Scotch Song

Oh, forth she went like a braw, braw bride
    To meet her winsome groom,
When she was aware of twa bonny birds
    Sat biggin' in the broom.

The tane it built with the green, green moss,
    But and the bents sae fine,
And the tither wi' a lock o' lady's hair
    Linked up wi' siller twine.

'O whaur gat ye the green, green moss,
    O whaur the bents sae fine?
And whaur gat ye the bonny broun hair
    That ance was tress o' mine?'

'We gat the moss fra' the elditch aile,
    The bents fra' the whinny muir,
And a fause knight threw us the bonny broun hair,
    To please his braw new fere.'

'Gae pull, gae pull the simmer leaves,
    And strew them saft o'er me;
My token's tint, my love is fause,
    I'll lay me doon and dee...

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Hidden Love

The bird of Fortune sings when free,
But captured, soon grows dumb; and we,
To hear his fast declining powers,
Must soon forget that he is ours.
So, when I win that maid, no doubt
Love soon will seem to be half out;
Like blighted leaves drooped to the ground,
Whose roots are still untouched and sound,
So will our love's root still be strong
When others think the leaves go wrong.
Though we may quarrel, 'twill not prove
That she and I are less in love;
The parrot, though he mocked the dove,
Died when she died, and proved his love.
When merry springtime comes, we hear
How all things into love must stir;
How birds would rather sing than eat,
How joyful sheep would rather bleat:
And daffodils nod heads of gold,
And dance in April's sparkling cold.

William Henry Davies

Cuckoo Song

Tell it to the locked-up trees,
Cuckoo, bring your song here!
Warrant, Act and Summons, please,
For Spring to pass along here!
Tell old Winter, if he doubt,
Tell him squat and square, a!
Old Woman!
Old Woman!
Old Woman's let the Cuckoo out
At Heffle Cuckoo Fair, a!

March has searched and April tried,
'Tisn't long to May now.
Not so far to Whitsuntide
And Cuckoo's come to stay now!
Hear the valiant fellow shout
Down the orchard bare, a!
Old Woman!
Old Woman!
Old Woman's let the Cuckoo out
At Heffle Cuckoo Fair, a!

When your heart is young and gay
And the season rules it,
Work your works and play your play
'Fore the Autumn cools it!
Kiss you turn and turn-about,
But, my lad, beware, a!
Old Woman!

Rudyard

Maiden-Song

Long ago and long ago,
    And long ago still,
There dwelt three merry maidens
    Upon a distant hill.
One was tall Meggan,
    And one was dainty May,
But one was fair Margaret,
    More fair than I can say,
Long ago and long ago.

When Meggan plucked the thorny rose,
    And when May pulled the brier,
Half the birds would swoop to see,
    Half the beasts draw nigher;
Half the fishes of the streams
    Would dart up to admire:
But when Margaret plucked a flag-flower,
    Or poppy hot aflame,
All the beasts and all the birds
    And all the fishes came
To her hand more soft than snow.

Strawberry leaves and May-dew
    In brisk morning air,
Strawberry leaves and May-dew
    Make maidens fair.
'I go for strawb...

Christina Georgina Rossetti