Come, Meg and El-len, don't com-plain,
For, see, the geese en-joy the rain,
And dog-gie docs not fret;
And yet,
The drops come rol-ling down his ears,
And nose, and whisk-ers, just like tears;
Poor Mop, he's drip-ping wet!
Our big um-brel-la co-vers three,
And snug and dry we all may be,
And chat-ter as we go,
And show
The grumb-ling peo-ple whom we meet
That nei-ther wind, nor driv-ing sleet,
Can spoil our tem-pers.—No,
We will not take such days as this,
Nor any-thing God sends, a-miss,
But what we can-not cure
Endure;
And this will prove a Gold-en Rule
To prac-tise as we walk from school—
Of that we may be sure. |
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