He's peeping in the door now,
And first of all he spies,
As he has done before now,
The little children's eyes!
Then quickly does he throw it,
His golden sleepy-sand,
And all, before they know it,
Are off for sleepy-land!
DANDELION CURLS
Ah, ha, ha, now! who comes here
Wreathed in flowers of gold and queer
Tiny tangled curls of green
Gayly bobbing in between?
Pretty token of the spring!
Hark! we hear the bluebirds sing
When we thus see little girls
Decked in dandelion curls.