Long and worse night’s hours;
Few birds languish in his pay
And yet fewer flowers.
The days wore on and Winter reigned over the land.
The little brown mice had eaten their last nut and were at their wits’ end as to the future. The hedgehog was reduced to skin and bone; the crows were nearly giving in. The river lay dead under the ice.
Then suddenly there came the sound of singing:
Play up! Play soon!
Keep time! Keep tune!
Ye wavelets blue and tender!
Keep time! Keep tune!