When you reach the empty sky,

Are the clouds not dreary?

Don't you sometimes long to be

A silent gold-fish in the sea?

Gold-fish, gold-fish diving deep,

Are you never sad, say?

When you feel the cold waves creep

Are you really glad, say?

Don't you sometimes long to sing

And be a lark-bird on the wing?

 

Lambs:[25]

[25]

O little lambs! the month is cold,

The sky is very gray;

You shiver in the misty grass

And bleat at all the winds that pass;

Wait! when I'm big—some day—

I'll build a roof to every fold.

But now that I am small, I'll pray

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