Classic Poem

Lend me your pipes, glad Peter Pan,
Lend me your pipes to-day;
The windows of my heart are dark,
The children are away;
Unless I dance, I know I'll weep;
Lend me your pipes to play!

Dear Peter Pan, I too would be
A vagabond, to sing,
And yet, before I thought, the world
Had trapped me by my wing.
Now I am wise enough to know
It is not always Spring.

Give me your pipes, O Peter Pan;
The wind is bitter cold;
A trouble that you sang to sleep
Has wakened up to scold;
I almost fear — but whisper it —
Some day I shall grow old.

And that I cannot think to do
When all the world is fair,
And folk are going up and down
With ribbons in their hair,
And smiles and eyes are beckoning
Like May flowers in the air!

Lend me, glad Peter Pan, your pipes,
And call your trusty band,
To drive away this grown-up woe;
O, take me by the hand,
And lead me, for I cannot see,
To Never Never Land!