So, when daylight broke, he was dark, dark green,
And prickly as before!—
The other trees mocked, “Such a sight to be seen!
To be near him makes one sore!”
The south wind whispered his leaves between,
“Be thankful, and change no more!
“The thing you are is always the thing
That you had better be”—
But the north wind said, with a gallant fling,
“The foolish, weak yew-tree!
“What if he blundered twice or thrice?
There’s a turn to the longest lane;
And everything must have its price—
Poor faulterer, try again!”
THE LITTLE BROTHER
LITTLE brother in a cot,
Baby, baby!
Shall he have a pleasant lot?
Maybe, maybe!
Little brother in a nap,
Baby, baby!
Bless his tiny little cap,
Noise far away be!
With a rattle in his hand,
Baby, baby!
Dreaming—who can understand
Dreams like this, what they be?