But now an old-time song she is crooning,
Nestle your heads again,
While I dream on through the golden nooning,
Or look for the first red stain
On some round cheek that the sunshine dapples,
Near me where I lie curled
Under green trees athrong with green apples,
In a grass-green, apple-green world.
Beginning and End
ONCE it was in my life’s beginning,
Roses were tall in their summer beds,
Dandelions within my fingers
Thrust their confident golden heads;
Wading waist-deep ’mid the daisies,
Feeling the grasses about me climb—
Thus it was in my life’s beginning;
What have you done to me, Father Time?
So shall it be when life has ended:
Roses shall bloom above my head,
Dandelions will know I am lying
Hidden in grass from foot to head.
Hidden in grass and hidden in daisies,
Over my breast I shall feel them climb,
Thus it will be when life has ended;
This will you do to me, Father Time.
Not at Home
THE Weariness of Idleness,
She waited all the day
In the parlor of her neighbor,
The Weariness of Labor—
A visit she had long meant to pay.