And why is your little lamb over the brook?

It bleats for its dam, and dog Tray is not by,

So why do you stand with a tear in your eye?

“My dear little crook it was stolen away

Whilst I dreamt a dream on a morning in May;

It was all through the drone of a big bumblebee,

And a drum and a drummer-boy under a tree.”

W. B. Rands.


The Land of Dreams