As beats the sun from mountain crest, <br />With 'pretty, pretty', <br />Cometh the partridge from her nest; <br />The flowers threw kisses sweet to her <br />(For all the flowers that bloomed knew her); <br />Yet hasteneth she to mine and me-- <br />Ah! pretty, pretty; <br />Ah! dear little partridge! <br /> <br />And when I hear the partridge cry <br />So pretty, pretty, <br />Upon the house-top, breakfast I; <br />She comes a-chirping far and wide, <br />And swinging from the mountain side-- <br />I see and hear the dainty dear! <br />Ah! pretty, pretty; <br />Ah! dear little partridge! <br /> <br />Thy nest's inlaid with posies rare. <br />And pretty, pretty <br />Bloom violet, rose, and lily there; <br />The place is full of balmy dew <br />(The tears of flowers in love with you!) <br />And one and all impassioned call; <br />'O pretty, pretty-- <br />O dear little partridge!' <br /> <br />Thy feathers they are soft and sleek-- <br />So pretty, pretty! <br />Long is thy neck and small thy breast; <br />The color of thy plumage far <br />More bright than rainbow colors are! <br />Sweeter than dove is she I love-- <br />My pretty, pretty-- <br />My dear little partridge! <br /> <br />When comes the partridge from the tree, <br />So pretty, pretty! <br />And sings her little hymn to me, <br />Why, all the world is cheered thereby-- <br />The heart leaps up into the eye, <br />And echo then gives back again <br />Our 'Pretty, pretty,' <br />Our 'Dear little partridge!' <br /> <br />Admitting the most blest of all <br />And pretty, pretty, <br />The birds come with thee at thy call; <br />In flocks they come and round they play, <br />And this is what they seem to say-- <br />They say and sing, each feathered thing; <br />'Ah! pretty, pretty; <br />Ah! dear little partridge!'<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/armenian-folk-song-the-partridge/
