As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,
Merrie sang the Birde as she sat upon the spraye!
    There came a noble Knyghte,
    With his hauberke shynynge brighte,
    And his gallant heart was lyghte,
            Free and gaye;
As I laye a-thynkynge, he rode upon his waye.


As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,
Sadly sang the Birde as she sat upon the tree!
    There seemed a crimson plain,
    Where a gallant Knyghte lay slayne,
    And a steed with broken rein
            Ran free,
As I laye a-thynkynge, most pitiful to see!

As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,
Merrie sang the Birde as she sat upon the boughe;
    A lovely Mayde came by,
    And a gentil youth was nyghe,
    And he breathed many a syghe
            And a vowe;
As I laye a-thynkynge, her heart was gladsome now.

As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,
Sadly sang the Birde as she sat upon the thorne;
    No more a youth was there,
    But a Maiden rent her haire,
    And cried out in sad despaire,
            'That I was borne!'
As I laye a-thynkynge, she perished forlorne.

 ... 

As I laye a-thynkynge the golden sun was sinking,
O merrie sang that Birde as it glittered on her breast
    With a thousand gorgeous dyes,
    While soaring to the skies,
    'Mid the stars she seem'd to rise,
            As to her nest;

As I laye a-thynkynge, her meaning was exprest:-
    'Follow, follow me away,
    It boots not to delay,'-
    'Twas so she seem'd to saye,
            'HERE IS REST!'