The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,
St. Stephen's Day she was caught in the furze,
Although she is little, her family is great,
Rise up land-lady and give us a treat
If you'll give it at all, don't give it too small.
For that would not satisfy us at-all.
As I went up through Loughawee,
I spied my wren upon a tree,
Up with my stick and I gave her a fall,
And I brought her here to visit you all. 3
I hunted my wren all round Glandore,
I hunted my wren from shore to shore,
O'er hedges, and ditches, and fields so green,
And such fine sport was never seen. 4
Now my wren she is plainly seen,
She is well mounted on a holly - tree,