II

In the jolly winters
  Of the dead-and-gone,
Bub was warm as summer,
  With his red mitts on,—­
Just in his little waist-
  And-pants all together,
Who ever hear him growl
  About cold weather?

III

In the jolly winters
  Of the long-ago—­
Was it half so cold as now? 
  O!  No!  No! 
Who caught his death o’ cold,
  Making prints of men
Flat-backed in snow that now’s
  Twice as cold again?

IV

In the jolly winters
  Of the dead-and-gone,
Startin’ out rabbit-huntin’—­
  Early as the dawn,—­
Who ever froze his fingers,
  Ears, heels, or toes,—­
Or’d ‘a’ cared if he had? 
  Nobody knows!

V

Nights by the kitchen-stove,
  Shellin’ white and red
Corn in the skillet, and
  Sleepin’ four abed! 
Ah! the jolly winters
  Of the long-ago! 
We were not as old as now—­
  O!  No!  No!

JUNE

O queenly month of indolent repose! 
    I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume,
  As in thy downy lap of clover-bloom
I nestle like a drowsy child and doze
The lazy hours away.  The zephyr throws
  The shifting shuttle of the Summer’s loom
  And weaves a damask-work of gleam and gloom
Before thy listless feet.  The lily blows
  A bugle-call of fragrance o’er the glade;
    And, wheeling into ranks, with plume and spear,
  Thy harvest-armies gather on parade;
    While, faint and far away, yet pure and clear,
  A voice calls out of alien lands of shade:—­
    All hail the Peerless Goddess of the Year!

THE TREE-TOAD

“’S cur’ous-like,” said the tree-toad,
  “I’ve twittered fer rain all day;
  And I got up soon,
  And hollered tel noon—­
But the sun, hit blazed away,
  Tell I jest clumb down in a crawfish-hole,
  Weary at hart, and sick at soul!

“Dozed away fer an hour,
  And I tackled the thing agin: 
    And I sung, and sung,
    Tel I knowed my lung
  Was jest about give in;
    And then, thinks I, ef hit don’t rain now,
    They’s nothin’ in singin’, anyhow!

“Onc’t in a while some farmer
  Would come a-drivin’ past;
    And he’d hear my cry,
    And stop and sigh—­
  Tel I jest laid back, at last,
    And I hollered rain tel I thought my th’oat
    Would bust wide open at ever’ note!

“But I fetched her!—­O I fetched her!—­
  ’Cause a little while ago,
    As I kindo’ set,
    With one eye shet,
  And a-singin’ soft and low,
    A voice drapped down on my fevered brain,
    A-sayin’,—­’ef you’ll jest Hush I’ll rain!’”