 | The Collected Poetry of Paul Laurence Dunbar : |  |
THE CHASE
The wind told the little leaves to hurry,
And chased them down the way,
While the mother tree laughed loud in glee,
For she thought her babes at play.
And chased them down the way,
While the mother tree laughed loud in glee,
For she thought her babes at play.
The cruel wind and the rain laughed loudly,
We'll bury them deep, they said,
And the old tree grieves, and the little leaves
Lie low, all chilled and dead.
We'll bury them deep, they said,
And the old tree grieves, and the little leaves
Lie low, all chilled and dead.
| The Collected Poetry of Paul Laurence Dunbar : | |