THE WOODSY ONES

Hear them creeping, creeping, creeping,

through the mosses and the brush,

The Woodsy Ones whom I can never see!

Now they snap a twig and falter,

now they laugh and whisper “Hush!”

As they dodge their little heads behind a tree.

Hear them dancing, dancing, dancing,

in the grass when I’m abed,

And singing at my window in the moon!

Oh, the fairy music bubbles

in my dizzy little head,

And I drift away to Nothing all too soon!

Heart of New England · 第 56 / 96 题