 | A Flight of Fancies |  |
137
GRANNIE
The west is faded, like a stubble-field,
The sun no longer keeps the meadow hot;
The darkened brook is glad to lull
To rest the young forget-me-not.
Albreda! Ellen! Margaret!
The dew is busy, and the grass is wet,
And dreams are running to the violet.
Lambs of my heart, come in!
(She waits)
The sun no longer keeps the meadow hot;
The darkened brook is glad to lull
To rest the young forget-me-not.
Albreda! Ellen! Margaret!
The dew is busy, and the grass is wet,
And dreams are running to the violet.
Lambs of my heart, come in!
The Earth has turned her back upon the sun
To find the covey of the milk-white stars;
The thrush is tuning in the pear,
At intervals, his bedtime bars.
Albreda! Ellen! Margaret!
A dream is flowering in the violet,
The wind is chilly, and the turf is wet.
Lambs of my heart, come in!
(She waits)
To find the covey of the milk-white stars;
The thrush is tuning in the pear,
At intervals, his bedtime bars.
Albreda! Ellen! Margaret!
A dream is flowering in the violet,
The wind is chilly, and the turf is wet.
Lambs of my heart, come in!
Listen! Your quiet Uncle now begins
To tell the keyboard all that Fancy floats
From heart and brain, and makes it sound
Along the ivory street of notes.
Albreda! Ellen! Margaret!
Since honest Dew has now to pay her debt
In liquid pearls, the grass is very wet.
Lambs of my love, run in!
(They run to her)
To tell the keyboard all that Fancy floats
138
Along the ivory street of notes.
Albreda! Ellen! Margaret!
Since honest Dew has now to pay her debt
In liquid pearls, the grass is very wet.
Lambs of my love, run in!
| A Flight of Fancies | |