The pretty parrot was the next to speak,
Clothed all in green, with sugar in her beak,
And round her neck a circle of pure gold.
Even the falcon cannot boast so bold
A loveliness – earth’s variegated green
Is but the image of her feathers’ sheen
And when she talks the fascinating sound
Seems sweet as costly sugar finely ground;
She trilled: ‘I have been caged by heartless men,
