The Lark that in heaven dim
Can match a rainy hour
With his own music's shower,
Can make me sing like him,
Heigh ho! The rain!
Sing, when a Nightingale
Pours forth her own sweet soul
To hear dread thunder roll
Into a tearful tale,
Heigh ho! The rain!
Sing, when a Sparrow's seen
Trying to lie at rest
By pressing his warm breast
To leaves so wet and green,
Heigh ho! The rain!