The Blackbird


H. J. Wehman, Song Publisher, 50 Chatham St., N. Y.

The Blackbird

It was on one fine morning for soft recreation,
I heard a fair damsel making a sad moan,
Sighing and sobbing with sad lamentation,
Saying my Blackbird most loyal has flown.

My thoughts they deceived me, reflection it grieves me,
And I am o’er-burdened with sad misery;
But if death should blind me, as true love inclines me,
My Blackbird I’ll seek out wherever I be.

Once in fair England my Blackbird did flourish,
He was the chief flower that in it did spring,
Fair ladies of honor his person did nourish,
Because that he was the true son of a king.

But oh! that false fortune has proved so uncertain
That caus’d the parting between you and me,
But if he remain in France or in Spain,
I’ll be true to my Blackbird wherever he be.

In England my Blackbird and I were together
When he was the most noble and gen’rous of heart;
But woe to the time when he arrived there,
Alas! he was soon forced from me to part.

In Italy he beam’s and was highly esteemed,
In England he seems but a stranger to me,
But if he remain in France or in Spain,
All blessings on my Blackbird wherever he be.

But if by the fowler my Blackbird is taken,
Sighing and sobbing will be all the tune,
But if he is safe, and I’m not mistaken,
I hope I shall see him in May or in June.

The birds of the forest, they all flock together,
The turtle was chosen to dwell with the dove,
So I’m resolved in fair or foul weather,
Once in the Spring to seek out my love.

Oh, he is all my treasure, my joy and my pleasure,
He’s justly belov’d though my heart follow thee,
How constant and kind, and courageous of mind,
Deserving of blessing wherever he be.

It’s not the wide ocean can fright me with danger,
Although like a pilgrim I wander forlorn,
For I’ll find more friendship from one that’s a stranger,
More than from one that in Britain was born.

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