 | When life is young |  |
20
POOR MARIONETTE
Poor Marionette! She worked so hard,
And did her part with such precision!
But one cold day, when off her guard,
She tumbled on the cruel floor
And broke herself for evermore.
Then worthless quite—
Poor wooden mite!—
She met with scorn and cold derision.
And did her part with such precision!
But one cold day, when off her guard,
She tumbled on the cruel floor
And broke herself for evermore.
Then worthless quite—
Poor wooden mite!—
She met with scorn and cold derision.
“Throw her away!” the showman cried;
“Throw her away. We'll have a new one.”
And so, despised and cast aside,
She lay all winter in the snow,
Unmourned, forgotten long ago
By human folk;
And never woke,—
So can a cruel fate undo one!
“Throw her away. We'll have a new one.”
And so, despised and cast aside,
She lay all winter in the snow,
Unmourned, forgotten long ago
By human folk;
And never woke,—
So can a cruel fate undo one!
Poor Marionette! In course of time
Sweet May came, bringing balmy weather.
Then followed summer in her prime;
And softly, on fair moonlight nights,
Came mourning elves and gentle sprites,
Who, weeping much,
With tender touch
Soon hid her in the warm, sweet heather
Sweet May came, bringing balmy weather.
Then followed summer in her prime;
And softly, on fair moonlight nights,
Came mourning elves and gentle sprites,
Who, weeping much,
With tender touch
Soon hid her in the warm, sweet heather
| When life is young | |