Ye people so witty, of country and city Give ear to my ditty and I won't keep you long. In trouble I tell it, no grief can excel it My loss it is great, though my troubles are small. I once had a chicken, was well worth a-keeping For eggs she was noble, as all you folks know. She's gone from me now, and I cannot tell how And it makes me lament for my bonny brown hen. I called my hen Kitty, her tapping was pretty. It is a great pity if my hen should die. In her neighbour's corn, when on foot or when tapping She ne'er put her beak, but still flourished at home. In Magilligan Parish this chicken was cherished You need not me blame, when I after her claim From the same place I came, William Balmer's my name And it makes me lament for my bonny brown hen. For six eggs a week she brought home of the best. Sure my table was blest when she entered my home. She never would roam, but she would stay at home She ne'er would trespass, or o'er a wall fly. If she had for to lay, she would keep it a day 'Til she would bring her eggs to her master, but then She's gone from me now, and I cannot tell how And it makes me lament for my bonny brown hen. My hen was true game, from French Flanders she came Sure he4 breed was ne'er slain in cockpit or field. In battle or compat she never was beaten But her haughty imposers she forced for to yield. Her sure was Black Neb and her dame was White Leg And her grandfather came from he famed Johnny Glen. She's of the same race, aye, and from the same place That's why I lament for my bonny brown hen. So now a reward to the bard or the clown Ten pounds I will offer and will pay it down For one sight again of my bonny brown hen Be she dead or alive, in city or town. But the mark you must bring is a silver-tipped wing With a tip on the head, and if you see her then Fetch her and the villain, to pay I am willing And then I'll rejoice at receiving my hen. Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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