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c.1800. "A Welsh sonnet: the poetry from Jones's Relicks of the Welsh Bards".

Lyrics: Anon

Blithe is the bird who wings the plain,
Nor sows nor reaps a single grain;
Whose only labour is to sing
Through summer, autumn, winter, spring.

At night his little meal he finds
Nor heeds what fare may next betide;
The change of seasons nought he minds,
But for his wants lets heav'n provide.

Oft on the branch he perches gay,
Oft on his painted wing looks he;
And pennyless renews his lay,
Rejoicing in unbounded glee.
Page 1 of 2

Robert Broderip
(1758 - 1808)

Blithe is the bird


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