Friday, January 1, 2016

The North Wind


The North Wind doth blow,

And we shall have snow,

And what will poor Robin do then?

He will hop to a barn,

And to keep himself warm

Will hide his head under his wing,

Poor thing.

When the fog goes up the hill

When the fog goes up the hill

Then the rain comes down by the mill.

 

Traditional

 

No comments: