OH, who would be sad tho' the sky be a-graying, <br />And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare; <br />For softly and merrily now there come playing, <br />The little white birds thro' the winter-kissed air. <br />The squirrel's enjoying the rest of the thrifty, <br />He munches his store in the old hollow tree; <br />Tho' cold is the blast and the snow-flakes are drifty <br />He fears the white flock not a whit more than we. <br />Chorus: <br />Then heigho for the flying snow! <br />Over the whitened roads we go, <br />With pulses that tingle, <br />And sleigh-bells a-jingle <br />For winter's white birds here's a cheery heigho!<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winter-song-10/
