 | When life is young |  |
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THE FOUR LITTLE IMPS
Four little imps and four little birds
Lived up in the selfsame tree;
And the kindly ways of those four little imps
Were a beautiful sight to see.
Lived up in the selfsame tree;
And the kindly ways of those four little imps
Were a beautiful sight to see.
They fed and tended those orphan birds
All through the blossoming days;
And never were tired of sitting around
And watching their comical ways.
All through the blossoming days;
And never were tired of sitting around
And watching their comical ways.
Their pitiful squeak they took for a song
As sweet as they ever had heard;
And they sometimes laughed, and oftener sighed,
In feeding each motherless bird.
As sweet as they ever had heard;
And they sometimes laughed, and oftener sighed,
In feeding each motherless bird.
So, gently they tended them, day by day,
Till their four little pets had grown
And longing to go to the beautiful sky,
Each bird from the nest had flown.
Till their four little pets had grown
And longing to go to the beautiful sky,
Each bird from the nest had flown.
And when all were gone, the four little imps
Did wipe their eight little eyes,
And scamper away to assuage their grief—
Which seems to me rather wise.
Did wipe their eight little eyes,
And scamper away to assuage their grief—
Which seems to me rather wise.
| When life is young | |