ON THE PARTRIDGE.

The sun boats from the mountain's top,

Pretty, pretty.

The partridge comes from her nest:

She was saluted by the flowers,

She flew and came from the mountain's top,

Ah! pretty, pretty,

Ah! dear little partridge!

Only the highest genius-and what is higher than the folk-genius?-would dare to be so naive:

Ah! pretty, pretty,

Ah! dear little partridge!

Загрузка...