Lyrics Of all the birds that I do know - The King's Singers

Of all the birds that I do know

Of all the birds that I do know
Philip my sparrow hath no peer
For sit she high, or sit she low
Be she far off, or be she near
There is no bird so fair, so fine
Nor yet so fresh as this of mine
For when she once hath felt a fit
Philip will cry still:
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
For when she once hath felt a fit
Philip will cry still:
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
Come in a morning merrily
When Philip hath been lately fed;
Or in an evening soberly
When Philip list to go to bed
It is a heav’n to hear my Phipp
How she can chirp with merry lip
For when she once hath felt a fit
Philip will cry still:
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
For when she once hath felt a fit
Philip will cry still:
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
She never wanders far abroad
But is at home when I do call;
If I command she lays on load
With lips, with teeth, with tongue and all
She chants, she chirps, she makes such cheer
That I believe she hath no peer
For when she once hath felt a fit
Philip will cry still:
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
For when she once hath felt a fit
Philip will cry still:
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet
Yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet, yet