The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | ||
125
RED-TOP AND TIMOTHY.
Red-Top and Timothy
Come here in the spring;
Light spears out of emerald sheaths
Everywhere they swing:
Harmless little soldiers,
On the field they play,
Nodding plumes and crossing blades
All the livelong day.
Come here in the spring;
Light spears out of emerald sheaths
Everywhere they swing:
Harmless little soldiers,
On the field they play,
Nodding plumes and crossing blades
All the livelong day.
Timothy and Red-Top
Bring their music-band:
Some with scarlet epaulets,
Strutting stiff and grand;
Some in sky-blue jackets,
Some in vests of pink:
Black and white their leader's coat,—
Restless Bob-o'-link!
Bring their music-band:
Some with scarlet epaulets,
Strutting stiff and grand;
Some in sky-blue jackets,
Some in vests of pink:
Black and white their leader's coat,—
Restless Bob-o'-link!
Red-Top's airy feathers
Tremble to his notes,
In themselves an orchestra;
Then a thousand throats
Set the winds a-laughing,
While the saucy thing
Anywhere, on spike or spear,
Sways himself to sing.
Tremble to his notes,
In themselves an orchestra;
Then a thousand throats
Set the winds a-laughing,
While the saucy thing
Anywhere, on spike or spear,
Sways himself to sing.
Red-Top and Timothy
Have a mortal foe;
There 's a giant with a scythe
Comes and lays them low;
Shuts them in barn-prisons;
Spares not even Sweet Clover:
Bob-o'-link leads off his band,
Now the campaign 's over.
Have a mortal foe;
There 's a giant with a scythe
Comes and lays them low;
Shuts them in barn-prisons;
Spares not even Sweet Clover:
Bob-o'-link leads off his band,
Now the campaign 's over.
Timothy and Red-Top
Will return again,
With familiar songs and flowers,
Through the April rain.
Though their giant foeman
Will not let them be,
One who swings a keener scythe
Cuts down such as he.
Will return again,
With familiar songs and flowers,
Through the April rain.
Though their giant foeman
Will not let them be,
One who swings a keener scythe
Cuts down such as he.
The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | ||