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Evening Song of the Thoughtful Child

Shadow children, thin and small,

Now the day is left behind,

You are dancing on the wall,

On the curtains, on the blind.

On the ceiling, children, too,

Peeping round the nursery door,

Let me come and play with you,

As we always played before.

Let's pretend that we have

And can really truly

Over every sort of

Up and up into the sky.

Where the sweet star children play—It does seem a dreadful rule,

They must stay inside all day.

I suppose they go to school.

And to-night, dears, do you see,

They are having such a

With their father moon—the

Almost hides his funny face.

Shadow children, once at night,

I was all tucked up in bed,

Father moon came—such a fright—Through the window poked his head;

I could see his staring eyes,

O, my dears,

I was afraid,

That was not a nice surprise,

And the dreadful noise I made!

Let us make a fairy ring,

Shadow children, hand in hand,

And our songs quite softly

That we learned in fairyland.

Shadow children, hin and small,

See, the day is far behind;

And I kiss you—on the wall—On the curtains—on the blind.

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Katherine Mansfield

Kathleen Mansfield Murry (née Beauchamp; 14 October 1888 – 9 January 1923) was a prominent modernist writer who was born and brought up in New Z…

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