THE BUCKLE

I had a silver buckle,

I sewed it on my shoe,

And 'neath a sprig of mistletoe

I danced the evening through!

I had a bunch of cowslips,

I hid 'em in a grot,

In case the elves should come by night

And me remember not.

I had a yellow riband,

I tied it in my hair,

That, walking in the garden,

The birds might see it there.

I had a secret laughter,

I laughed it near the wall:

Only the ivy and the wind

May tell of it at all.

THE HARE

In the black furrow of a field

I saw an old witch-hare this night;

And she cocked her lissome ear,

And she eyed the moon so bright,

And she nibbled o' the green;

And I whispered 'Whsst! witch-hare,'

Away like a ghostie o'er the field

She fled, and left the moonlight there.

BUNCHES OF GRAPES

'Bunches of grapes,' says Timothy;

'Pomegranates pink,' says Elaine;

'A junket of cream and a cranberry tart

For me,' says Jane.

'Love-in-a-mist,' says Timothy;

'Primroses pale,' says Elaine;

'A nosegay of pinks and mignonette

For me,' says Jane.

'Chariots of gold,' says Timothy;

'Silvery wings,' says Elaine;

'A bumpity ride in a wagon of hay

For me,' says Jane.

JOHN MOULDY

I spied John Mouldy in his cellar,

Deep down twenty steps of stone;

In the dusk he sat a-smiling,

Smiling there alone.

He read no book, he snuffed no candle;

The rats ran in, the rats ran out;

And far and near, the drip of water

Went whisp'ring about.

The dusk was still, with dew a-falling,

I saw the Dog-star bleak and grim,

I saw a slim brown rat of Norway

Creep over him.

I spied John Mouldy in his cellar,

Deep down twenty steps of stone;

In the dusk he sat a-smiling,

Smiling there alone.

THE FLY

How large unto the tiny fly

Must little things appear!—

A rosebud like a feather bed,

Its prickle like a spear;

A dewdrop like a looking-glass,

A hair like golden wire;

The smallest grain of mustard-seed

As fierce as coals of fire;

A loaf of bread, a lofty hill;

A wasp, a cruel leopard;

And specks of salt as bright to see

As lambkins to a shepherd.

SONG

O for a moon to light me home!

O for a lanthorn green!

For those sweet stars the Pleiades,

That glitter in the twilight trees;

O for a lovelorn taper! O

For a lanthorn