Pussy Willow and the South Wind

Fie! moping still by the sleepy brook?
Little Miss Pussy, how dull you look!

Prithee, throw off that cloak of brown,
And give me a glimpse of your gray silken gown!

My gray silken gown, Sir Wind, is done,
Put its golden fringes are not quite spun.

What a slow little spinner! pray, pardon me,
But I have had time to cross the sea.

Haste forth, dear Miss Pussy! the sky is blue,
And I’ve a secret to whisper to you.

Nay, nay, they say Winds are changeful things,
I’ll wait, if you please, till the Bluebird sings.