Smith, Effie Waller
|SONGS OF THE MONTHS.|
|SING ME A SONG.|
Sing me a song, not of houses and streets,
Not of stifling, smoky air,
Not of busy, bustling feet,
Not of turmoil, strife and care.
But sing me a song of meadows green,
Clad in sunshine's golden light;
Skirted with broad-armed elm trees,
Studded with daisies white.
Sing me a song of whispering woods,
Watered by silvery, bubbling brooks;
Of dells so narrow, and valleys dark
Where violets hide in mossy nooks.
Sing me a song of a lakelet blue,
Where broad leaved lilies rock and float.
Sing me a song of music sweet,
Straight from a feathered songster's throat.
Oh, sing me a song and take me there,
Take me back to those country joys,
Oh, take me away from crowded streets,
Take me away from the strife and noise.