GOING TO SCHOOL.

Trudge, trudge, along in the snow, That keenly creaks, it is frozen so: What does he care if the wind does blow?— Sturdy lad, with his face aglow, He likes the sound of his ringing heel, And loves to feel, as he tramps along, He is conquering something: it makes him strong,— Robert, the miller's boy. What does he conquer? Wind and frost. Hands in mittens, and tippet crossed Over his ears, and backward tossed Like a crimson banner that leads a host, Well indeed may the lad feel bold To battle the cold, and fight his way Early to school, and every day,— Robert, the miller's boy. He'll sing and whistle, he'll run and shout, To keep him warm; but he'll never pout: If the frost creeps in, he whips it out, With his two hands thrashing his shoulders stout; While on he goes, and the keen snow rings To the song he sings, for his sturdy feet The changing time of that music beat,— Robert, the miller's boy. You need not think to find him low When the busy classes stand in row; You need not think to find him slow When play-time comes, and the trampled snow Makes a path for his "lightning" sled: The boy at the head is the conquering lad Who makes his way if the road is bad,— Robert, the miller's boy.