But never a word of plaint will be heard
From robin, no matter how tired and cold;
For well will he know that the winter
will go,
And the blossoms and greenness of
spring unfold.
And when the warm sun says winter
is done,
He’ll gladden us all with his cheery
song;
And never will fret if the season is wet,
Or wail that the winter was hard and long.
I bought a little carriage
And took him out to ride,
And yet with all my efforts
He wasn’t satisfied.
I never would have married,
Now this I do declare,—
If I’d supposed a husband
Was such an awful care.
