One May morning early I chanced for to roam
And strode through the fields by the side of the road
It was there that I heard the harmless birds sing
And you never heard so sweet; You ne'er heard so sweet
You ne'er heard so sweet as the birds in the spring.
At the end of the grove I sat myself down
And the song of the nightingale echoed all around
Their song was so charming, their notes were so clear
No music, no songster; No music, no songster
No music, no songster with them could compare.
All you that come all for the small birds to hear
I'll have you pay attention, so pray you draw near
And when you're growing old, you'll have this to say
That you never heard so sweet; You ne'er heard so sweet
You ne'er heard so sweet as the birds on the spray