Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (3rd ed.).djvu/52



Oh, how I hate my lowly fate!"
 * These were his foolish words;

Nor are these envious feelings all
 * Monopolized by birds.

One day the wind was blowing hard,
 * He sat with upturned eyes,

When out the Jackdaw's nest was blown,
 * And through the air it flies.

AU the poor throng of unfledged young
 * Were dashed upon the ground;

And then, and not till then, the truth
 * Of this "old saw" he found—

Which tells alike of men and birds,
 * Of great as well as small,

The higher up we build our nests,
 * The further we've to fall!