TREASURE CRAFT

UPON the brook, for treasure-craft, I sail some petals, red and white; They always go away from me— They float much faster in their flight, Than I can run along the bank. My precious wee bit things bear freight; Which very soon falls overboard, And sinks where miser-folk await To snatch my sparkling treasure-store. Perhaps the waters dash too high For such a little fleet of ships, And that may be the reason why My crafts do not return again. Still, I expect them any day. I've lost some things I love the best,— My flower-chains and ribbons gay— But, though I miss these pretty things, I love much more the sailing-fun, And launch new ships when morning sings, And rainbow mist floats in the sun.