Tread lightly here, for here,‘ tis said...

Tread lightly here, for here,‘ tis said,

When piping winds are hush'd around,

A small note wakes from underground,

Where now his tiny bones are laid.

No more in lone and leafless groves,

With ruffled wing and faded breast,

His friendless, homeless spirit roves;

— Gone to the world where birds are blest!

Where never cat glides o'er the green,

Or school-boy's giant form is seen;

But Love, and Joy, and smiling Spring

Inspire their little souls to sing!