Classic Poem

Wolf:
Little young lambs, oh! why do you stay
Up in the bleak hills amid the snow?
I know a place where the fields are gay,
Where sweet-stalked clovers and daisies grow!
Follow me, little lambs! Follow me, do!
And pleasant pastures I'll show to you!
Lambs:

Oh, Mr. Wolf, how kind you are
To offer us lambs such splendid things!
But, tell us, please, is it very far?
We are lambs, not birds, for we have no wings,
And little legs tire, indeed they do!
So perhaps we had better not go with you!
Wolf:

Little young lambs, it is very near!
Only a dozen steps away!
How cold it is and dreary here,
But there it is sunshine all the day!
Follow me, little lambs! Follow me, do!
And pleasant pastures I'll show to you!
Lambs:

Oh, Mr. Wolf, how kind you are,
But our mother has told us not to go!
She says that such pastures may be too far,
She says there are far worse things than snow!
In fact, Mr. Wolf — we tell you true! —
She says there is nothing worse than you!