30 January 2014

Cricket and Cat-Bird

There's a quaint little fellow in black,
In an out-of-the-way place he hides;
Good nature he never doth lack,
And fretting and care he derides.
With arms held akimbo he stands
And takes the world easy each day;
He owneth not houses nor lands,
Yet in sunlight or rain he doth say,
"Cheer up! cheer up!"
There's a queer little matron who hops
Mid leaves of the garden and grove;
Her querulous tongue never stops
Complaining where'er she doth rove.
She seemeth a sprite of old care,.
While cheery and blue are the skies,
And joy is abroad on the air;
Forever she slumbers and cries,
"Oh dear! Oh, dear!"
There are boys, yes, and girls, like these twain —
I meet them in field and in street;
From fretting some never abstain,
But some all cheerfulness seem,
A cricket or cat-bird to-day,
Now which, will you be, little dear?
A kiss for the red lips that say,
Though skies may be cloudy or clear,
"Cheer up! Cheer up!"
August 4, 1877. Pacific Appeal 14(48): 1.