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nd, 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 a lissome ear, And she eyed the moon so bright, And she nibbled of the green; And I whispered "Wh-s-st! 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 waggon 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 whispering 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 darkling trees; O for a lovelorn taper! O For a lanthorn green! O for a frock of tartan! O for clear, wild grey eyes! For fingers light as violets, 'Neath branches that the blackbird frets; O for a thistly meadow! O For clear, wild grey eyes! O for a heart like almond boughs! O for sweet thoughts like rain! O for first-love like fields of grey Shut April-buds at break of day! O for a sleep like music! Dreams still as ra
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