Were I A Bird Free Born To Fly Aloof On Two Wee, Downy Wings, My Canopy Would Be The Sky When Rosy Morn Its Dawning Springs. Were I A Bird I'd Sweetly Sing Earth'S Vesper Song In Tree-Tops High, And Chant The Carol Of The Spring To Every Weary Passer By. Were I A Bird, The Sweetest Voice That Human Ear Has Ever Heard, - The Mocking-Bird Would Be My Choice, For He's The Sweetest Singing Bird! Were I A Bird My Life Would Be In Keeping With The Will Divine - I'd Sing His Carols Full And Free In Spreading Oak And Cony Pine! Were I A Bird Through Air I'd Roam, Just Flitting On The Morning Breeze, In Search Of Summer'S Sunny Dome, To Live Contentedly At Ease. Were I A Bird I'd Sing A Tune For Farmers Seeking Shady Rest Beneath The Spreading Oak In June, In Swinging Boughs That Rock My Nest. Were I A Bird I'd Scale The Cliff When Dawns The Bleak December Day, Far From The Ice And Snow I'd Shift Until The Fairest Day In May! Were I A Bird, A Mocking-Bird, The King Of Birdie'S Singing Sons, My Music Would Fore'Er Be Heard As I Sweet Sang To Cheerless Ones. Were I A Bird I'd Seek My Rest When Jocund Day Blows Out His Light; In Boughs That Hover O'Er My Nest I'd Sweetly Sing, "Good Night, Good Night!"