Cometh　like　a　fleeting　ghost
  From　some　distant　eerie　coast；
  Never　footfall　can　you　hear
  As　that　spirit　fareth　near　…
  Never　whisper；　never　word
  From　that　shadow…queen　is　heard。
  In　ethereal　raiment　dight；
  From　the　realm　of　fay　and　sprite
  In　the　depth　of　yonder　skies
  Cometh　Lady　Button…Eyes。
  Layeth　she　her　hands　upon
  My　dear　weary　little　one；
  And　those　white　hands　overspread
  Like　　　　a　veil　the　curly　head；
  Seem　to　fondle　and　caress
  Every　little　silken　tress；
  Then　she　smooths　the　eyelids　down
  Over　those　two　eyes　of　brown　…
  In　such　soothing；　tender　wise
  Cometh　Lady　Button…Eyes。
  Dearest；　feel　upon　your　brow
  That　caressing　magic　now；
  For　the　crickets　in　the　glen
  Chirp　and　chirp　and　chirp　again；
  While　upon　the　haunted　green
  Fairies　dance　around　their　queen；
  And　the　moonbeams　hover　o'er
  Playthings　sleeping　on　the　floor　…
  Hush；　my　sweet！　from　yonder　skies
  Cometh　Lady　Button…Eyes！
  THE　RIDE　TO　BUMPVILLE
  Play　that　my　knee　was　a　calico　mare
  Saddled　and　bridled　for　Bumpville；
  Leap　to　the　back　of　this　steed；　if　you　dare；
  And　gallop　away　to　Bumpville！
  I　hope　you'll　be　sure　to　sit　fast　in　your　seat；
  For　this　calico　mare　is　prodigiously　fleet；
  And　many　adventures　you're　likely　to　meet
  As　you　journey　along　to　Bumpville。
  This　calico　mare　both　gallops　and　trots
  While　whisking　you　off　to　Bumpville；
  She　paces；　she　shies；　and　she　stumbles；　in　spots；
  In　the　tortuous　road　to　Bumpville；
  And　sometimes　this　strangely　mercurial　steed
  Will　suddenly　stop　and　refuse　to　proceed；
  Which；　all　will　admit；　is　vexatious　indeed；
  When　one　is　en　route　to　Bumpville！
  She's　scared　of　the　cars　when　the　engine　goes　〃Toot！〃
  Down　by　the　crossing　at　Bumpville；
  You'd　better　look　out　for　that　treacherous　brute
  Bearing　you　off　to　Bumpville！
  With　a　snort　she　rears　up　on　her　hindermost　heels；
  And　executes　jigs　and　Virginia　reels　…
  Words　fail　to　explain　how　embarrassed　one　feels
  Dancing　so　wildly　to　Bumpville！
  It's　bumpytybump　and　it's　jiggytyjog；
  Journeying　on　to　Bumpville
  It's　over　the　hilltop　and　down　through　the　bog
  You　ride　on　your　way　to　Bumpville；
  It's　rattletybang　over　boulder　and　stump；
  There　are　rivers　to　ford；　there　are　fences　to　jump；
  And　the　corduroy　road　it　goes　bumpytybump；
  Mile　after　mile　to　bumpville！
  Perhaps　you'll　observe　it's　no　easy　thing
  Making　the　journey　to　Bumpville；
  So　I　think；　on　the　whole；　it　were　prudent　to　bring
  An　end　to　this　ride　to　Bumpville；
  For；　though　she　has　uttered　no　protest　or　plaint；
  The　calico　mare　must　be　blowing　and　faint　…
  What's　more　to　the　point；　I'm　blowed　if　I　ain't！
  So　play　we　have　got　to　Bumpville！
  THE　BROOK
  I　looked　in　the　brook　and　saw　a　face　…
  Heigh…ho；　but　a　child　was　I！
  There　were　rushes　and　willows　in　that　place；
  And　they　clutched　at　the　brook　as　the　brook　ran　by；
  And　the　brook　it　ran　its　own　sweet　way；
  As　a　child　doth　run　in　heedless　play；
  And　as　it　ran　I　heard　it　say：
  〃Hasten　with　me
  To　the　roistering　sea
  That　is　wroth　with　the　flame　of　the　morning　sky！〃
  I　look　in　the　brook　and　see　a　face　…
  Heigh…ho；　but　the　years　go　by！
  The　rushes　are　dead　in　the　old…time　place；
  And　the　willows　I　knew　when　a　child　was　I。
  And　the　brook　it　seemeth　to　me　to　say；
  As　ever　it　stealeth　on　its　way　…
  Solemnly　now；　and　not　in　play：
  〃Oh；　come　with　me
  To　the　slumbrous　sea
  That　is　gray　with　the　peace　of　the　evening　sky！〃
  Heigh…ho；　but　the　years　go　by　…
  I　would　to　God　that　a　child　were　I！
  PICNIC…TIME
  It's　June　ag'in；　an'　in　my　soul　I　feel　the　fillin'　joy
  That's　sure　to　come　this　time　o'　year　to　every　little　boy；
  For；　every　June；　the　Sunday…schools　at　picnics　may　be　seen；
  Where　〃fields　beyont　the　swellin'　floods　stand　dressed　in　livin'　green〃；
  Where　little　girls　are　skeered　to　death　with　spiders；　bugs；　and　ants；
  An'　little　boys　get　grass…stains　on　their　go…to　meetin'　pants。
  It's　June　ag'in；　an'　with　it　all　what　happiness　is　mine　…
  There's　goin'　to　be　a　picnic；　an'　I'm　goin'　to　jine！
  One　year　I　jined　the　Baptists；　an'　goodness！　how　it　rained！
  （But　grampa　says　that　that's　the　way　〃baptizo〃　is　explained。）
  And　once　I　jined　the　'Piscopils　an'　had　a　heap　o'　fun　…
  But　the　boss　of　all　the　picnics　was　the　Presbyteriun！
  They　had　so　many　puddin's；　sallids；　sandwidges；　an'　pies；
  That　a　feller　wisht　his　stummick　was　as　hungry　as　his　eyes！
  Oh；　yes；　the　eatin'　Presbyteriuns　give　yer　is　so　fine
  That　when　they　have　a　picnic；　you　bet　I'm　goin'　to　jine！
  But　at　this　time　the　Methodists　have　special　claims　on　me；
  For　they're　goin'　to　give　a　picnic　on　the　21st；　D。　V。；
  Why　should　a　liberal　universalist　like　me　object
  To　share　the　joys　of　fellowship　with　every　friendly　sect？
  However　het'rodox　their　articles　of　faith　elsewise　may　be；
  Their　doctrine　of　fried　chick'n　is　a　savin'　grace　to　me！
  So　on　the　21st　of　June；　the　weather　bein'　fine；
  They're　goin'　to　give　a　picnic；　and　I'm　goin'　to　jine！
  SHUFFLE…SHOON　AND　AMBER…LOCKS
  Shuffle…shoon　and　Amber…Locks
  Sit　together；　building　blocks；
  Shuffle…Shoon　is　old　and　gray；
  Amber…Locks　a　little　child；
  But　together　at　their　play
  Age　and　Youth　are　reconciled；
  And　with　sympathetic　glee
  Build　their　castles　fair　to　see。
  〃When　I　grow　to　be　a　man〃
  （So　the　wee　one's　prattle　ran）；
  〃I　shall　build　a　castle　so　…
  With　a　gateway　broad　and　grand；
  Here　a　pretty　vine　shall　grow；
  There　a　soldier　guard　shall　stand；
  And　the　tower　shall　be　so　high；
  Folks　will　wonder；　by　and　by！〃
  Shuffle…Shoon　quoth：　〃Yes；　I　know；
  Thus　I　builded　long　ago！
  Here　a　gate　and　there　a　wall；
  Here　a　window；　there　a　door；
  Here　a　steeple　wondrous　tall
  Riseth　ever　more　and　more！
  But　the　years　have　leveled　low
  What　I　builded　long　ago！〃
  So　they　gossip　at　their　play；
  Heedless　of　the　fleeting　day；
  One　speaks　of　the　Long　Ago
  Where　his　dead　hopes　buried　lie；
  One　with　chubby　cheeks　aglow
  Prattleth　of　the　By　and　By；
  Side　by　side；　they　build　their　blocks　…
  Shuffle…Shoon　and　Amber…Locks。
  THE　SHUT…EYE　TRAIN
  Come；　my　little　one；　with　me！
  There　are　wondrous　sights　to　see
  As　the　evening　shadows　fall；
  In　your　pretty　cap　and　gown；
  Don't　detain
  The　Shut…Eye　train　…
  〃Ting…a…ling！〃　the　bell　it　goeth；
  〃Toot…toot！〃　the　whistle　bloweth；
  And　we　hear　the　warning　call：
  〃All　aboard　for　Shut…Eye　Town！〃
  Over　hill　and　over　plain
  Soon　will　speed　the　Shut…Eye　train！
  Through　the　blue　where　bloom　the　stars
  And　the　Mother　Moon　looks　down
  We'll　away
  To　land　of　Fay　…
  Oh；　the　sights　that　we　shall　see　there！
  Come；　my　little　one；　with　me　there　…
  'T　is　a　goodly　train　of　cars　…
  All　aboard　for　Shut…Eye　Town！
  Swifter　than　a　wild　bird's　flight；
  Through　the　realms　of　fleecy　light
  We　shall　speed　and　speed　away！
  Let　the　Night　in　envy　frown　…
  What　care　we
  How　wroth　she　be！
  To　the　Balow…land　above　us；
  To　the　Balow…folk　who　love　us；
  Let　us　hasten　while　we　may　…
  All　aboard　for　Shut…Eye　Town！
  Shut…Eye　Town　is　passing　fair　…
  Golden　dreams　await　us　there；
  We　shall　dream　those　dreams；　my　dear；
  Till　the　Mother　Moon　goes　down　…
  See　unfold
  Delights　untold！
  And　in　those　mysterious　places
  We　shall　see　beloved　faces
  And　beloved　voices　hear
  In　the　grace　of　Shut…Eye　Town。
  Heavy　are　your　eyes；　my　sweet；
  Weary　are　your　little　feet　…
  Nestle　closer　up　to　me
  In　your　pretty　cap　and　gown；
  Don't　detain
  The　Shut…Eye　train！
  〃Ting…a…ling！〃　the　bell　it　goeth；
  〃Toot…toot！〃　the　whistle　bloweth
  Oh；　the　sights　that　we　shall　see！
  All　aboard　for　Shut…Eye　Town！
  LITTLE…OH　DEAR
  See；　what　a　wonderful　garden　is　here；
  Planted　and　trimmed　for　my　Little…Oh…Dear！
  Posies　so　gaudy　and　grass　of　such　brown　…
  Search　ye　the　country　and　hunt　ye　the　town
  And　never　ye'll　meet　with　a　garden　so　queer
  As　this　one　I've　made　for　my　Little…Oh…Dear！
  Marigolds　white　and　buttercups　blue；
  Lilies　all　dabbled　with　honey　and　dew；
  The　cactus　that　trails　over　trellis　and　wall；
  Roses　and　pansies　and　violets　…　all
  Make　proper　obeisance　and　reverent　cheer
  When　into　her　garden　steps　Little…Oh…Dear。
  And　up　at　the　top　of　that　lavender…tree
  A　silver…bird　singeth　as　only　can　she；
  For；　ever　and　only；　she　singeth　the　song
  〃I　love　you　…　I　love　you！〃　the　happy　day　long；　…
  Then　the　echo　…　the　echo　that　smiteth　me　here！
  〃I　love　you；　I　love　you；〃　my　Little…Oh…Dear！
  The　garden　may　wither；　the　silver…bird　fly　…
  But　what　careth　my　little　precious；　or　I？
  From　her　pathway　of　flowers　that　in　spring　time　upstart
  She　walketh　the　tenderer　way　in　my　heart
  And；　oh；　it　is　always　the　summer…time　here
  With　that　song　of　〃I　love　you；〃　my　Little…Oh…Dear！
  THE　FLY…AWAY　HORSE
  Oh；　a　wonderful　horse　is　the　Fly…Away　Horse　…
  Perhaps　you　have　seen　him　before；
  Perhaps；　while　you　slept；　his　shadow　has　swept
  Through　the　moonlight　that　floats　on　the　floor。
  For　it's　only　at　night；