But when the chilly blast has blown
And wint'ry storms are brewing,
He flieth away to a milder zone,
And leaveth it then to its ruin;
Be like that bird we oft have seen,
Whose mellow notes were ringing
Among the willows when all was green,
And flowers around us were springing.
And when those boughs are all stript bare,
By wint'ry storms o'ertaken,