Come, hoe and shovel and rake,
From your winter nap awake!
The spring has come;
There's work to be done:
The birds are calling,
And off I must run
My little garden to make.
You have lain in the attic so long,
Perhaps you forget you belong
In the sunshine and air full half of the year;
And to leave you to mice and to cobwebs up here
Any longer would surely be wrong.
Come out of the darkness to light,
Where the sunbeams are glittering bright,
And the green grass is growing;
For I must be hoeing,
And digging the earth, and my seeds be a-sowing,
And finish it all before night.
Oh, how I hurried and dressed!
For the robin was building his nest,
And he cried, "Fie! For shame!
What is the boy's name,
Who sleeps in the morning? He's surely to blame
For not working here with the rest."
Come then, rake, shovel, and hoe,
With a run and a jump, here we go!
Soon so busy we'll be,
That the robins shall see,
For all their fine words, they're no smarter than we,
As off to the garden we go!