The wind it rushes in and out An' makes a great to-do, An' little leaves leap all about To tell you where it blew. Whenever it goes racing by It pulls my clothes and hair; Some places it will sing or sigh, But no one sees it there! The trees are p'raps the only thing That @3see@1 it as it blows, For they all lean, an' point, an' sing In whispers, "There it goes!" |