Winter-Song (Dunbar) — Paul Laurence Dunbar

WINTER-SONG

Oh, who would be sad tho' the sky be a-graying,
And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare;
For softly and merrily now there come playing,
The little white birds thro' the winter-kissed air.

The squirrel's enjoying the rest of the thrifty,
He munches his store in the old hollow tree;
Tho' cold is the blast and the snow-flakes are drifty
He fears the white flock not a whit more than we.

Chorus:
Then heigho for the flying snow!
Over the whitened roads we go,
With pulses that tingle,
And sleigh-bells a-jingle
For winter's white birds here's a cheery heigho!

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This page was imported from Wikisource. “The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar” by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1913) is in the public domain; the text is as transcribed and proofread by Wikisource's volunteers.

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