The sea is like a garden green,
The spray like daisies white;
And one full rose alone is seen,
The great red sun at night.
A-fluttering in their loveliness
The ships against the skies
Are just—as any one can guess—
The garden's butterflies!
Buds
The buds have come to town;
Demure and brown
Their coats; and under, see,
How can such fragile, fairy colors be?
The buds have come to us
All tremulous.
We're quite as glad as they.
Take off your cloaks, dear little buds, and stay!
The Flower Cart
The flower cart's coming down the street,
With tulips red and tulips sweet;
And from the wagon color spills
Of hyacinths and daffodils.
And purple rhododendrons grow
Beside the roses in a row.
Oh, let us hasten down to spend,
Before the flower cart rounds the bend!
Oh, let us bring our pennies and
Hold all of Spring within our hand.
Eavesdroppers
The stars lean down and listen,
At fairy-story time;
They twinkle and they glisten
To hear each happy rhyme;
To all our cheerful singing
The little stars beat time.
The stars lean down and hear us,
They know it's not polite,
But then, they cease to fear us,
About this time of night.
They creep and edge up near us,
Although it isn't right.
Eavesdroppers! But we love them,
We leave a little space,
And never crowd or shove them,
Because, in any case,
That stretch of blue above them
Is such a lonely place!