University of Virginia Library

SNOW-SONG.

I hear a bird chirp in the sun;
He flutters and hops to and fro;
His tiny light tracks, one by one,
He prints on the new-fallen snow.
Little bird, sing!
Sun, give his wing
A flicker of gold as you go!
Make a smooth path for him, Snow!
I see a child out there at play;
His footfall is light on the snow;
His curls catch a swift golden ray
Of the sun, while the merry winds blow.
Little child, run!
Shine on him, Sun!
Blow him fair weather, Wind, blow!
Make a white path for him, Snow!
The little bird's home is the sky,
Or the ground, or a nest in the tree.
The little child some day will fly
From his doorstep, new regions to see.
Bird-like and free
May his sunny flight be!
And wherever on earth he may go,
May his footsteps be whiter than snow!