Once I had a hawk, and a pretty grey hawk.
She came and she went at request.
I loved her so well, and so very, very well,
In my bosom she builded her nest, my brave boys,
In my bosom she builded her nest.
Then I got a bell and tied it to her foot,
Thinking that she was my own,
But she's taken a flight, and gone away quite,
And there's nobody knows where she's gone, my brave boys,
And there's nobody knows where she's gone.
Then it's up streets I walk, and down streets I run,
Like one that is troubled in mind.
I whooped and I hoed, and I shouted aloud,
But my little bird I could not find, my brave boys,
But my little bird I could not find.
It's up the green meadows I walk,
And down the green meadows I run,
And there I did spy my pretty grey hawk,
She was close by the side of a man, my brave boys,
She was close by the side of a man.
He that hath got her, so e'en let him keep her,
And make the best of her he can,
For whether I have her or whether I do not,
I will hawk with her still, now and then, my brave boys,
I will hawk with her still, now and then.
Happy is he that hath got a good wife,
And blessed is he that's got none.
Cursed is he that courteth another's
And hath a good wife of his own, my brave boys,
And hath a good wife of his own.