Songs of the Pine-wood
There was a little seaside breeze who loved to dance and play;
He’d rush along the yellow sands and fly across the bay;
And when the frothy billows began to sway and roll,
He’d find the highest seaweed rock and rest his little soul.
But other breezes came along, ten thousand and a score;
They pushed and jostled all the day upon the sea and shore;
And little breeze got weary of rough and noisy play,
Said he, “I’ll find another home—it’s time I went away.”
He spread his wings of silver light and flew across the foam,
And in a wood of scented pines he found his little home.
So, if you stop and listen, you’ll hear the little breeze
As he sings his sweet sea-music in the branches of the trees.