Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | ||
CICADA—THE KATY-DID.
Sing me summer,Sweet Cicada!
Chirruping gay in the bristly pine;
Though thy song hath made me sadder,
Yet my heart must thank thee for it!
Were each comer
But as welcome,
With no better song than thine,
What a bit of Eden were it,
In this forest nook of mine!
Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | ||