Winter Morning

In winter-time we go to school;
And every day the motor-bus
Stops at the gate, and waits for us,
All full of children that we know,
Sitting inside, row after row.

It stops and gets them, one by one,
And brings them home when school is done.

Then there is ice upon the pool
Where lilies grow. The leafless trees
Stand shivering in the winter breeze,
Except where here and there is seen
A cheerful, warm-clad evergreen.

There’s one I always like to see.
It stands alone upon a hill
Just like some giant’s Christmas tree.
I’d like to see the giant fill
It full of giant toys and light
Big candles on it Christmas night.

But when the world is deep in snow
That sparkles coldly in the sun,
And motor-buses cannot run;
They send a pung with runners wide
And two long seats for us inside.

That is the way I like to go.
The horses prance, and ting-a-ling
The bells upon their harness ring.
The driver cracks his whip, and blows
Steam, like a dragon, through his nose.

The birds look lonely as they fly
Across the solemn winter sky.
I wish they were just half as gay
As happy children in a sleigh.