|
|
|
Oh, oh, how the wild winds blow! Blow high, Blow low, And whirlwinds go, To chase the little leaves that fly— Fly low and high, To hollow and to steep hill-side; They shiver in the dreary weather, And creep in little heaps together, And nestle close and try to hide. Oh, oh, how the wild winds blow! Blow low, Blow high, And whirlwinds try To find a crevice—to find a crack, They whirl to the front; they whirl to the back. But Tommy and Will and the baby together Are snug and safe from the wintry weather. All the winds that blow Cannot touch a toe— Cannot twist or twirl One silken curl. They may rattle the doors in a noisy pack, But the blazing fires will drive them back. |