IN FOLK SONGS 135 



Little swallow, God's loved one, 

 Pray Him to send the sun ; 

 Pray God it soon shine low — ■ 

 Ah ! There it's coming now ! 



And the sun soon scatters the clouds and 

 sends its rays down upon them. When rain 

 is threatening, and the swallows still persist 

 in twittering cheerily, the Spanish boys and 

 girls of Andalusia sing to them : -r- 



Little swallow, 

 Why so gay ? 

 March has not yet 

 Gone away. 

 To-morrow, plain, 

 We shall have rain. 

 Dona Beatrice. 



When" September approaches, and the 

 children see their little, friend making ready 

 to depart for warmer lands, they turn to her 

 with songs of sorrow, chiding her for not tell- 

 ing them when she will return : — 



O swallow, when I've nourished thee, 

 And given thee wings of gold ; 

 Up to the sky so blue thou'rt gone, 

 Nor thy return hast told. 



