Page:Tiny folk of wintry days.djvu/17



Here's a brave lad from the highlands and heather—

Here's a true lad with tartan and feather,—

Full of the joy of the wild spring weather!

March!

March!

Who within doors with dull care would be staying

When the wind, through the naked treetops straying,

Sounds like a pibroch that minstrels are playing?

March!

March!

Here's a blithe heart as light as the swallow,

Here's a bold chieftain—who'll follow, who'll follow,

Over the meadow, up hill and down hollow?

March!

March!

—EDITH M. THOMAS.