The shop-girl in my fingers laid The Yellow Duckling, Mother paid A silver coin to set him free And so he came to live with me.
I kissed his baby feathers sweet, His callow bill and parchment feet; And so his love for me began— My Yellow Duckling from Japan.
And he forgot his native nest, Forgot the way his plumy breast Parted the waters as they ran Amid strange weeds in far Japan.
And he forgot the yellow child Whose narrow eye-lids on him smiled:— I kissed him, and he settled down To live with me in London town.
THE PRIVET HEDGE
The common pavement dull and grey Is strewn with leafy wands to-day, And sceptres green to the curb’s edge— For they have cut the privet hedge.
My Baby gathers, bending down, The branches swept by Mother’s gown And carries home into the house Those magical and royal boughs.
But O the milky blossoms sweet That scented all the sunny street— Crushed by the Baby’s sandalled tread They lie behind her, brown and dead.