 | A merry-go-round of song |  |
59
A PERFECT FIT
The baby starlings very soon
Will wonder at the sky,
And watch the silver-seeming moon
In loveliness go by.
Next week their little eyes will stare
As if beneath a spell;
But just at present they must wear
An overcoat of shell.
Will wonder at the sky,
And watch the silver-seeming moon
In loveliness go by.
Next week their little eyes will stare
As if beneath a spell;
But just at present they must wear
An overcoat of shell.
Forget-me-nots have such a blue
As all the jackets bear
While keeping out the rain and dew
And sharpness of the air.
All snug inside, as ships in port,
The birdlings never dream
How cunningly the tailor wrought
The coats without a seam.
As all the jackets bear
While keeping out the rain and dew
And sharpness of the air.
All snug inside, as ships in port,
The birdlings never dream
How cunningly the tailor wrought
The coats without a seam.
If you had found a tailor-man
To fit you just as well
As fit by some ingenious plan
The overcoats of shell,
Instead of racing down the stairs
And dancing twenty jigs
You would have played in Uncle's pears
At see-saw on the twigs!
To fit you just as well
As fit by some ingenious plan
The overcoats of shell,
Instead of racing down the stairs
And dancing twenty jigs
You would have played in Uncle's pears
At see-saw on the twigs!
| A merry-go-round of song | |