* * * * *
"Little robin singing
From the cherry-tree,
Won't you leave your bower,
Come and play with me?"
"No, no, no," the little robin said;
"I must sing, and you must work."
And so the May day sped.
"Little streamlet dancing
Onward to the sea,
Won't you stop your leaping,
Come and play with me?"
"No, no, no," the merry brooklet said;
"I must play, and you must work,
You pretty curly-head."
"Little flower growing
Oh, so wild and free,
Won't you leave the meadow,
Come and play with me?"
"No, no, no," the sweet spring beauty said;
"I must grow, and so must you."
And thus the May day fled.
* * * * *