“I’d like to sing it to you,” she said, “because it’s such a pretty song, and it explains what they meant by the Ship’s growing lighter.”
The wind of the shower stirred the plumes of asters behind the Princess’s head while she sang; but even when the song was ended they weren’t obliged to scurry. So they waited a little longer for an excuse to scamper, because they wanted to.
THE SONG OF THE SHIP
“I’ll build you a palace of gold, my dear,
With diamond knobs for its doors;
With banqueting-halls,
And rooms to give balls,
And thistle-down rugs on the floors.
And other splendors untold, my dear,
Shall be yours. When I once begin