Home from the daisied meadows, where you linger yet -Home, golden-headed playmate, ere the sun is set;
For the dews are falling
And the night has come at last
Home with you, home and lay your little head at rest,
Over the borders, a sin without pardon,
Breaking the branches and crawling below,
Out through the breach in the wall of the garden,
Down by the banks of the river we go
ME, my little children, here are songs for you;
Some are short and some are long, and all, all are new
You must learn to sing them very small and clear,
Very true to time and tune and pleasing to the ear
Children, you are very little,
And your bones are very brittle;
If you would grow great and stately,
You must try to walk sedately
VE - what is love
A great and aching heart;
Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair
Life - what is life
ME, my beloved, hear from
Tales of the woods or open sea
Let our aspiring fancy riseA wren's flight higher toward the skies;
Or far from cities, brown and bare,
I
HO all the winter
Cherished other loves than you,
And kept hands with hoary policy in marriage-bed and pew;
What are you able to build with your blocks
Castles and palaces, temples and docks
Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,
But I can be happy and building at home
Come up here,
O dusty feet
Here is fairy ready to eat
Here in my retiring room,
I woke before the morning,
I was happy all the day,
I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play
And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood,
The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things ...
Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a
All through the meadows the horses and cattle: