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Humbly though my dwelling lie,

Next door neighbour to the earth; Rank, though lifted ne'er so high, Cannot soar like humble worth :

Tirral-la !
Shall I silently repine

When these birds of loftier airs
Say no parent race of mine
Built a nest as high as theirs ?

Tirral-la! Tirral-la !

Give me but a summer morn,

Sweet with dew and golden light,
And the richest plumage born
Well may envy me my flight !

Tirral-la!
Through the azure halls of day

Where the path of freedom lies,
Tirral-la! is still my lay-
Onward, upward to the skies

Tirral-la! Tirral-ka!

R. CLAY, PRINTER, LONDON.

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