Snow
Little white feathers, filling the air—
Little white feathers! how came ye there?
“We came from the cloud-birds sailing so high;
They’re shaking their white wings up in the sky.”
Little white feathers, how swift you go!
Little white feathers, I love you so!
“We are swift because we have work to do;
But hold up your face, and we’ll kiss you true.”
Oh, where are all the good little girls,—
Where are they all to-day?
And where are all the good little boys?
Tell me, somebody, pray.
Safe in their fathers’ and mothers’ hearts
The girls are stowed away;
And where the girls are, look for the boys,—
Or so I’ve heard folk say.