Tread Lightly Here, For Here, 'Tis Said, When Piping Winds Are Hush'D Around, A Small Note Wakes From Underground, Where Now His Tiny Bones Are Laid. No More In Lone And Leafless Groves, With Ruffled Wing And Faded Breast, His Friendless, Homeless Spirit Roves; --Gone To The World Where Birds Are Blest! Where Never Cat Glides O'Er The Green, Or School-Boy'S Giant Form Is Seen; But Love, And Joy, And Smiling Spring Inspire Their Little Souls To Sing!