Why Not?

Poet, sing me a song to-day !

But the world grows old and my hair is gray.

Ah no ! there are birds on the lilac bushes And a snow-drop out of the wet earth pushes. Two chattering robins are planning a marriage, And see ! there's a baby all pink in its carriage ! And the sun is wiping the clouds from his brow, And who can look back when it's always now? Oh, what is the use of a poet, say, If he will not sing me a song to-day?