William Wilfred Campbell - Canadian Folksong
The doors are shut, the windows fast; <br />Outside the gust is driving past, <br />Outside the shivering ivy clings, <br />While on the hob the kettle sings. <br /> Margery, Margery, make the tea, <br /> Singeth the kettle merrily. <br /> <br />The streams are hushed up where they flowed, <br />The ponds are frozen along the road, <br />The cattle are housed in shed and byre, <br />While singeth the kettle on the fire. <br /> Margery, Margery, make the tea, <br /> Singeth the kettle merrily. <br /> <br />The fisherman on the bay in his boat <br />Shivers and buttons up his coat; <br />The traveler stops at the tavern door, <br />And the kettle answers the chimney’s roar. <br /> Margery, Margery, make the tea, <br /> Singeth the kettle merrily. <br /> <br />The firelight dances upon the wall, <br />Footsteps are heard in the outer hall; <br />A kiss and a welcome that fill the room, <br />And the kettle sings in the glimmer and gloom. <br /> Margery, Margery, make the tea, <br /> Singeth the kettle merrily.<br /><br />William Wilfred Campbell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/canadian-folksong/
