Little woman, you are growing,
I measure you against the firs.
Little woman, let me mark your presence,
Against every specimen along which the brook skirts.
Little woman, do you remember chasing the fowls?
Do you remember how you shrieked when they poached them at dawn?
Do recall that moment in the fall,
When you heaped the leaves on a sudden call
From the wind?
Creeping stealthily against the motion of the fawn,
Through the woods of long-ago, now pruned into lawn,
They are all the more beautiful for it, little woman,
For all their rounds, you've aptly set the tone.
Little woman, hurry home
An errand is waiting for you-
How can you be so stoic,
Little Woman, when there's so much to do?
Crouch, little woman, under the pine,
Enjoy the shade of the spruces,
Make the most of the moonshine-
It'll soon be swept away in rows and truces.
The men are coming- on horses
With weapons and arms galore,
They have no taste for the tales that are nestled,
Among the forest-lore.
They're coming- can you make them stop?
Just as you helped the pheasants!
Little woman, you're powerful enough,
To mend the motives of the ruthless.
Little woman, they're conquering the land
Right from beneath your feet,
Won't you take objection, little woman,
Won't you gather a fleet?
I measure you against the firs.
Little woman, let me mark your presence,
Against every specimen along which the brook skirts.
Little woman, do you remember chasing the fowls?
Do you remember how you shrieked when they poached them at dawn?
Do recall that moment in the fall,
When you heaped the leaves on a sudden call
From the wind?
Creeping stealthily against the motion of the fawn,
Through the woods of long-ago, now pruned into lawn,
They are all the more beautiful for it, little woman,
For all their rounds, you've aptly set the tone.
Little woman, hurry home
An errand is waiting for you-
How can you be so stoic,
Little Woman, when there's so much to do?
Crouch, little woman, under the pine,
Enjoy the shade of the spruces,
Make the most of the moonshine-
It'll soon be swept away in rows and truces.
The men are coming- on horses
With weapons and arms galore,
They have no taste for the tales that are nestled,
Among the forest-lore.
They're coming- can you make them stop?
Just as you helped the pheasants!
Little woman, you're powerful enough,
To mend the motives of the ruthless.
Little woman, they're conquering the land
Right from beneath your feet,
Won't you take objection, little woman,
Won't you gather a fleet?
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