The baby in the looking-glass
Is smiling through at me;
She has her teaspoon in her hand,
Her feeder on for tea.
And if I look behind her I
Can see the table spread;
I wonder if she has to eat
The nasty crusts of bread.
Her doll, like mine, is sitting close
Beside her special chair,
She has a pussy on her lap;
It must be my cup there.
Her picture-book is on the floor,
The cover’s just the same;
And tidily upon the shelf
I see my Ninepin game.
O baby in the looking glass,
Come through and play with me,
And if you will, I promise, dear,
To eat your crusts at tea.
A FINE DAY
After all the rain, the sun
Shines on hill and grassy mead;
Fly into the garden, child,
You are very glad indeed.
For the days have been so dull,
Oh, so special dark and drear,
That you told me, “Mr. Sun
Has forgotten we live here.”
Dew upon the lily lawn,
Dew upon the garden beds;
Daintily from all the leaves
Pop the little primrose heads.