king winter
king winter sat in his hall one day,
and he said to himself, said he,
"i must admit i've had some fun,
i've chilled the earth and cooled the sun,
and not a flower or a tree
but wishes that my reign were done.
as long as time and tide shall run,
i'll go on making everyone
as cold as cold can be.
there came a knock at the outer door;
"who's there?" king winter cried;
"open your palace gates," said spring,
"for you can reign no more as king,
no longer here abide;
this message from the sun i bring,
'the trees are green, the birds do sing;
the hills with joy are echoing;
so pray, sir--step outside!'"
the robin
the robin is the fairies' page;
they keep him neatly dressed
for country service or for town
in dapper livery of brown
and little scarlet vest.
on busy errands all day long
he hurries to and fro
with watchful eyes and nimble wings
there are not very many things,
the robin doesn't know.
and he can tell you, if he will,
the latest fairy news:
the quaint adventures of the king,
and whom the queen is visiting,
and where she gets her shoes.
and lately, when the fairy court
invited me to tea,
he stood behind the royal chair
and here, i solemnly declare,
when he discovered i was there,
that robin winked at me.
