Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > Wit and mirth, or, Pills to purge melancholy > Volume 3

Pleasant and Diver live. J J
But what Bird 'twas not known, until,
One Wiser than the rest ;
Affirm'd that he a Robin was,
And prov'd it by his Breast.
I call it He, not She, because,
It Sings, and Cocks its Tail ;
Which that no Female Robin doth,
I'll hold a Pot of Ale.
This Bird abides about the Hearse,
Most part of every Day ;
Nor can you fail to hear him Sing,
Unless the Organs play.
For Organ Pipes, b'ing wider much,
Than Robin-red-Breasf s Throat ;
Their noise must needs be loud enough,
To drown one Robin's Note.
Some say this Bird an Angel is,
If so, we hope 'tis good ;
But why an Angel ? why forsooth,
They say, he takes no food.
But that the Robin lives by meat,
Is true, without dispute ;
For tho' none ever saw him eat,
Enough have seen him Mute.
And that sometimes undecently,
Upon the Statue-Royal ;
Which made some call him Jacobite,
Or otherwise Illoyal.
The Papists say, this Bird's a Fiend,
Which haunts Queen MARY'S Ghost ;
And by its wrestless motion shews,
How her poor Soul is tost.
But