Sang a song of warning,
‘There’ll be rain, there’ll be rain.’
Very,very clearly
From the orchard
Came the gentle horning,
‘There’ll be rain.’
But the hasty farmer
Cut his hay down,
Did not heed the charmer
From the orchard,
And the mower’s clatter
Ceased at noontide,
For with drip and spatter
Down came the rain.
Then the prophet robin
Hidden in the crab-tree
Railed upon the farmer,
‘I told you so, I told you so.’
As the rain grew stronger,
And his heart grew prouder,
Notes so full and slow
Coming blither, louder,
‘I told you so, I told you so,’
‘I told you so.’