Was dead, and nevermore Would he into that mother's ear, His pretty warblings pour. Then in despair she buried him Beside the chestnut tree, And covered him with twigs and leaves, While weeping bitterly. And then, with torn and sorrowing heart, She flew back to her home, Where Twit and Chirrup trembling staid, Disconsolate and lone. My little birdie dears, she said, In bitterness and pain, Our darling Downy to his nest Will never come again. His wilful disobedience To my direct commands, Has brought its own dire punishment, Such as all sin demands. I thought I could have trusted him, For he, as you well know, Promised me very faithfully Not from these trees to go. I want you both, my birdies dear, To learn from this to see How lying disobedience Will ever punished be. So take a lesson from it, dears, And be resolved that you Will never disobey or lie, Whatever else you do. O yes, we'll try our very best, Your orders to obey, And always strive to tell the truth, Whether at work or play. Dear children who may hear this tale, You, too, should also try To do whatever you are told, And never tell a lie. * * * * *