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On a tree by a river a
little tom-tit
Sang "Willow, titwillow, titwillow!" And I said to him, "Dicky-bird, why do you sit Singing 'Willow, titwillow, titwillow'?" |
| "Is it weakness of intellect, birdie?" I
cried,
"Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?" With a shake of his poor little head, he replied, "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" |
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He slapped at his chest, as he sat on that
bough,
Singing "Willow, titwillow, titwillow!" And a cold perspiration bespangled his brow, Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow! |
| He sobbed and he sighed, and a gurgle he
gave,
Then he plunged himself into the billowy wave, And an echo arose from the suicide's grave-- "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" |
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Now I feel just as sure as I'm sure that
my name
Isn't Willow, titwillow, titwillow, That 'twas blighted affection that made him exclaim "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" |
| And if you remain callous and obdurate, I
Shall perish as he did, and you will know why, Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die, "Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!" |
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