And waits for May. He lingers long
While flowers fade; and every day
Repeats his small contented lay,
As if to say, we need not fear
The season’s change, if love is here,
With “Sweet-sweet-sweet, very merry cheer.”
He does not wear a Joseph’s coat
Of many colours, smart and gay:
His suit is Quaker brown and gray,
With darker patches at his throat.