Here comes Kate Summers, who, for gold, 
Takes any man to bed: 
"You knew my friend, Nell Barnes," she said; 
"You knew Nell Barnes -- she's dead. 

"Nell Barnes was bad on all you men, 
Unclean, a thief as well; 
Yet all my life I have not found 
A better friend than Nell. 

"So I sat at her side at last, 
For hours, till she was dead; 
And yet she had no sense at all 
Of any word I said. 

"For all her cry but came to this -- 
'Not for the world! Take care: 
Don't touch that bird of paradise, 
Perched on the bed-post there!' 

"I asked her would she like some grapes, 
Som damsons ripe and sweet; 
A custard made with new-laid eggs, 
Or tender fowl to eat. 

"I promised I would follow her, 
To see her in her grave; 
And buy a wreath with borrowed pence, 
If nothing I could save. 

"Yet still her cry but came to this -- 
'Not for the world! Take care: 
Don't touch that bird of paradise, 
Perched on the bed-post there!' "