 | A merry-go-round of song |  |
51
THREE HOPES
I always hope the bird will fly
So high, so high,
That not a single leaden dot
In all the swarm of nasty shot
Will bring her tumbling from the sky
To die.
Don't you?
If not, please do.
So high, so high,
That not a single leaden dot
In all the swarm of nasty shot
Will bring her tumbling from the sky
To die.
Don't you?
If not, please do.
I always hope the fox's track,
By hill, by stack,
Unstayed will be when yokels shout
To turn the runner roundabout
And help to plunge upon his back
The pack.
Don't you?
If not, please do.
By hill, by stack,
Unstayed will be when yokels shout
To turn the runner roundabout
And help to plunge upon his back
The pack.
Don't you?
If not, please do.
I always hope the fish will try
So snug to lie
That not the cleverest sort of hook
Will pierce him in the silver brook
And drag him to the heavy sky
To die.
Don't you?
If not, please do.
So snug to lie
That not the cleverest sort of hook
Will pierce him in the silver brook
And drag him to the heavy sky
To die.
Don't you?
If not, please do.
| A merry-go-round of song | |