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Description
(1)
King Thrushbeard's Rejection

All these suitors, suitors, in a row,
have wished they never heard me speak.
I say!  It has been quite a show

to see lords and lads all bowing low,
like weak spring flowers by a creek.
My suitors, suitors, in a row

have heard the insults that I throw–
just one apiece and they leave, meek.
I say!  It has been quite a show!

But you took ten and still you stay! Don't you know
your height's not right and how you reek,
you least-suited suitor in the row?

With a beard like the thrushes the servants throw
and your chin as bare as a thrush bird's beak,
I'd say you make for quite a show.

If it was embarrassment you seeked,
you can leave now you poor thrush-beaked,
with all the suitors, suitors, from the row.
I say!  This has been quite a show!

(2)
King Thrushbeard's Revenge

Pretty princess, you little witch,
was it your dad who raised you thus?
You smiled at me and never twitched

as insults one by one you pitched,
declared my beard a mess of thrush–
oh that was low, you little witch.

Thank God for humor or else this
might have hurt me very much:
that you smiled at me–and never twitched!–

as if to share your joke so rich.
I've this to say:  Beware this thrush,
who'll bring you down, you little witch!

I'll dye my beard as dark as pitch,
claim your father's threat of marriage rushed.
You'll wish you'd smiled at me, then twitch

to see this beggar man so rich
in fleas lead you to his little hutch.
Then there'll be no more smiles as you twitch
and learn your lesson, you little witch.

Description
(1)
King Thrushbeard's Rejection

All these suitors, suitors, in a row,
have wished they never heard me speak.
I say!  It has been quite a show

to see lords and lads all bowing low,
like weak spring flowers by a creek.
My suitors, suitors, in a row

have heard the insults that I throw–
just one apiece and they leave, meek.
I say!  It has been quite a show!

But you took ten and still you stay! Don't you know
your height's not right and how you reek,
you least-suited suitor in the row?

With a beard like the thrushes the servants throw
and your chin as bare as a thrush bird's beak,
I'd say you make for quite a show.

If it was embarrassment you seeked,
you can leave now you poor thrush-beaked,
with all the suitors, suitors, from the row.
I say!  This has been quite a show!

(2)
King Thrushbeard's Revenge

Pretty princess, you little witch,
was it your dad who raised you thus?
You smiled at me and never twitched

as insults one by one you pitched,
declared my beard a mess of thrush–
oh that was low, you little witch.

Thank God for humor or else this
might have hurt me very much:
that you smiled at me–and never twitched!–

as if to share your joke so rich.
I've this to say:  Beware this thrush,
who'll bring you down, you little witch!

I'll dye my beard as dark as pitch,
claim your father's threat of marriage rushed.
You'll wish you'd smiled at me, then twitch

to see this beggar man so rich
in fleas lead you to his little hutch.
Then there'll be no more smiles as you twitch
and learn your lesson, you little witch.