The Cricket's Song

When all around from out the ground     The little flowers are peeping,     And from the hills the merry rills     With vernal songs are leaping,     I sing my song the whole day long     In woodland, hedge, and thicket--     And sing it, too, the whole night through,     For I 'm a merry cricket.     The children hear my chirrup clear     As, in the woodland straying,     They gather flow'rs through summer hours--     And then I hear them saying:     "Sing, sing away the livelong day,     Glad songster of the thicket--     With your shrill mirth you gladden earth,     You merry little cricket!"     When summer goes, and Christmas snows     Are from the north returning,     I quit my lair and hasten where     The old yule-log is burning.     And where at night the ruddy light     Of that old log is flinging     A genial joy o'er girl and boy,     There I resume my singing.     And, when they hear my chirrup clear,     The children stop their playing--     With eager feet they haste to greet     My welcome music, saying:     "The little thing has come to sing     Of woodland, hedge, and thicket--     Of summer day and lambs at play--     Oh, how we love the cricket!"