Mama never forgets her birds
Mama never forgets her birds,
Though in another tress.
She looks down just as often,
And just as tenderly.
As when her little mortal nest,
With cunning care she wove.
If either of her sparrows fall,
She notices, above.
Mama never forgets her birds,
Though in another tress.
She looks down just as often,
And just as tenderly.
As when her little mortal nest,
With cunning care she wove.
If either of her sparrows fall,
She notices, above.