Just think of all their beauty
And Jack Frost was the winner,
Though in sight of the shining sun,
He’s an awful sinner.
And while they lie asleep
Beneath the chilly snow,
We only dream of their tenderness
And their fragrance we love so.
Just think of each little petal
That was veiled with that all white shroud,
And the miserable death they died,
While the sun was behind the clouds.
But cheer up! all sad hearts,
Mother nature is soon to bring
Another collection of buds,
For the ones stolen this spring.
THE LITTLE TOE DANCER
Down a little lane
So beautifully shaded
There I met the queen
Of all little maidens.
Her hair was light
And eyes sky-blue,
She was out of the garden
Of beauties that’s true.
She’d hold her little dress
And dance to the breeze;
She would do it with grace
And musical ease.
On the tips of her toes
She’d go around like a top,
With such dancing, entrancing,
I thought she’d ne’er stop.
Then she’d bow
And give a sweet little smile,
Pulling her finger
Like a real little child.