When robins cease to sing their evening song,
And spots appear upon the starling's wing'
            And wrens grow shy,
            And mallards fly,
The time is far past spring.

When summer's green has turned to brown,
And chipmunks start to burrow down,
            And bucks grow bold,
            And nights are cold,
Then winter's here, ere long.

It's then I take me out once more
To stroll about the forest floor
Before cold winds begin to blow
And shroud the leaves with frozen snow.