Classic Poem

It was a merry time
— When Jenny Wren was young,
So neatly as she danced,
— And so sweetly as she sung,
Robin Redbreast lost his heart:
— He was a gallant bird;
He doffed his hat to Jenny,
— And thus to her he said: —

— My dearest Jenny Wren,
— If you will but be mine,
You shall dine on cherry pie,
— And drink nice currant wine.
I'll dress you like a Goldfinch,
— Or like a Peacock gay;
So if you'll have me, Jenny,
— Let us appoint the day. —

Jenny blushed behind her fan,
— And thus declared her mind:
— Then let it be to-morrow, Bob,
— I take your offer kind —
Cherry pie is very good!
— So is currant wine!
But I will wear my brown gown,
— And never dress too fine. —

Robin rose up early
— At the break of day;
He flew to Jenny Wren's house,
— To sing a roundelay.
He met the Cock and Hen,
— And bid the Cock declare,
This was his wedding-day
— With Jenny Wren, the fair.

The Cock then blew his horn,
— To let the neighbors know,
This was Robin's wedding-day,
— And they might see the show.
And first came Parson Rook,
— With his spectacles and band,
And one of Mother Hubbard's books
— He held within his hand.

Then followed him the Lark,
— For he could sweetly sing,
And he was to be clerk
— At Cock Robin's wedding.
He sang of Robin's love
— For little Jenny Wren;
And when he came unto the end,
— Then he began again.

Then came the bride and bridegroom;
— Quite plainly was she dressed,
And blushed so much, her cheeks were
— As red as Robin's breast.
But Robin cheered her up;
— — My pretty Jen, — said he,
— We're going to be married
— And happy we shall be. —

The Goldfinch came on next,
— To give away the bride;
The Linnet, being bride's maid,
— Walked by Jenny's side;
And, as she was a-walking,
— She said, — Upon my word,
I think that your Cock Robin
— Is a very pretty bird. —

The Bulfinch walked by Robin,
— And thus to him did say,
— Pray, mark, friend Robin Redbreast,
— That Goldfinch, dressed so gay;
What though her gay apparel
— Becomes her very well,
Yet Jenny's modest dress and look
— Must bear away the bell. —

The Blackbird and the Thrush,
— And charming Nightingale,
Whose sweet jug sweetly echoes
— Through every grove and dale;
The Sparrow and Tom Tit,
— And many more, were there:
All came to see the wedding
— Of Jenny Wren, the fair.

— O then, — says Parson Rook,
— — Who gives this maid away? —
— I do, — says the Goldfinch,
— — And her fortune I will pay:
Here's a bag of grain of many sorts,
— And other things beside;
Now happy be the bridegroom,
— And happy be the bride! —

— And will your have her, Robin,
— To be your wedded wife? —
— Yes, I will, — says Robin,
— — And love her all my life. —
— And will you have him, Jenny,
— Your husband now to be? —
— Yes, I will, — says Jenny,
— — And love him heartily. —

Then on her finger fair
— Cock Robin put the ring;
— You're married now, — says Parson Rook,
— While the Lark aloud did sing:
— Happy be the bridegroom,
— And happy be the bride!
And may not man, nor bird, nor beast,
— This happy pair divide. —

The birds were asked to dine;
— Not Jenny's friends alone,
But every pretty songster
— That had Cock Robin known.
They had a cherry pie,
— Beside some currant wine,
And every guest brought something,
— That sumptuous they might dine.

Now they all sat or stood
— To eat and to drink;
And every one said what
— He happened to think:
They each took a bumper,
— And drank to the pair:
Cock Robin, the bridegroom,
— And Jenny Wren, the fair.

The dinner-things removed,
— They all began to sing;
And soon they made the place
— Near a mile round to ring.
The concert it was fine;
— And every bird tried
Who best could sing for Robin
— And Jenny Wren, the bride.

Then in came the Cuckoo and made a great rout;
He caught hold of Jenny and pulled her about.
Cock Robin was angry, and so was the Sparrow,
Who fetched in a hurry his bow and his arrow.

His aim then he took, but he took it not right;
His skill was not good, or he shot in a fright;
For the Cuckoo he missed, but Cock Robin killed! —
And all the birds mourned that his blood was so spilled.