Sh-sh-sh-sh-she does not hear the r-r-r-r-robin
sing,
Nor f-f-f-f-feal the b-b-b-b-balmy b-b-breath of
Spring;
Sh-sh-sh-she does not hear the p-p-pelting rain
B-b-b-beat ta-ta-tat-t-t-toos on the w-w-winder
p-p-pane.
Sh-sh-sh-she cuc-cuc-cannot see the Autumn s-s-sky,
Nor hear the wild geeese s-s-s-stringing b-b-by;
And, oh! how happy t-t-t-'tis to know
Sh-sh-she never f-f-feels an earthly woe!
I s-s-spoke to her; sh-sh-she would not speak.
I kuk-kuk-kuk-kissed her, but c-c-cold was her cheek.
I could not twine her w-w-w-wondrous hair--
It w-w-was so wonderf-f-f-fully rare.
B-b-beside her s-s-stands a v-v-v-vase of flowers,
A gilded cuc-cuc-cuc-clock that t-t-tells the hours;
And even now the f-f-fire-light f-f-f-falls
On her, and d-d-dances on the walls.
Sh-sh-she's living in a p-p-pup-purer life,
Where there's no tu-tuh-turmoil and no strife;
No t-t-t-tongue can m-m-m-mock, no words em-
barrass
Her b-b-b-b-by g-g-gosh! she's p-p-plaster paris!