That has come out to-day
From his burrow down deep in the earth.
But his eyes are so tender that he will not stay,
He will run back for all he is worth
If the sun should break through
For one moment or two
And the poor creature's shadow display.
If his shadow appears
He'll be haunted with fears
And run back to his hole in the ground.
For with winter's return he would freeze off his ears
If he foolishly stayed up around.
When six weeks more of cold
Are so surely foretold
Why stay out and be subject to jeers?
If no shadow he sees
He will feel much at ease,
Knowing winter is over indeed,
Knowing thoroughly well it won't snow and won't freeze,
Knowing now he can frolic and feed.
So he'll stay out through all
From now on until fall
Gnawing off little twigs of young trees.
All of this do you hear
Very early each year,
Though you see well enough it's absurd
For the groundhog to know on what day to appear
Any more than a toad or a bird;
Though you know well enough
It's the silliest stuff
That was ever put into your ear.
There is no certain date,
May be early or late
When the sleep of the winter is through.
But whenever he wakens his hunger's so great
He must strike out for something to chew.
And it often turns out
That the poor little scout
Has to starve in unmerciful fate.
Yes, the much flaunted seer
Gives a pretty bum steer
On how long a cold winter may last.
He has often been found frozen stiff on the ground
Brought to death by a late icy blast
Which he could not foresee
Or determine to be
A possible thing he should fear.