 | New songs of innocence |  |
13
A BIRTHDAY.
When you were born, my Willie,
The wild March winds were out;
Though their breath was somewhat chilly,
They gave you a hearty shout.
They told you not to weary,
For Summer was on her way—
There's a winter long and dreary
For the baby that's born to-day!
The wild March winds were out;
Though their breath was somewhat chilly,
They gave you a hearty shout.
They told you not to weary,
For Summer was on her way—
There's a winter long and dreary
For the baby that's born to-day!
Poor little pale-faced stranger,
With the appealing eyes,
Into a world of danger
Dropped by the heedless skies!
Yes, you will live your lifetime
To its appointed close;
But a peace-time, or a strife-time?
That's what nobody knows.
With the appealing eyes,
Into a world of danger
Dropped by the heedless skies!
Yes, you will live your lifetime
To its appointed close;
But a peace-time, or a strife-time?
That's what nobody knows.
‘A happy New Year!’ they're saying
In the cold grey morning street;
In the churches, too, they're praying
Fair paths for the young year's feet.
Well, life is much as you take it,
A trial or a triumph, say I;
The year will be glad if you make it—
And Willie is going to try!
In the cold grey morning street;
In the churches, too, they're praying
Fair paths for the young year's feet.
Well, life is much as you take it,
A trial or a triumph, say I;
The year will be glad if you make it—
And Willie is going to try!
| New songs of innocence | |