SEVEN TIMES ONE.

There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover, There’s no rain left in heaven; I’ve said my “seven times” over and over— Seven times one are seven. I am old! so old I can write a letter; My birthday lessons are done; The lambs play always, they know no better; They are only one time one. Oh, moon! in the night I have seen you sailing, And shining so round and low; You were bright! Ah, bright! but your light is failing; You are nothing now but a bow. You Moon! have you done something wrong in heaven, That God has hidden your face? I hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place. O, velvet Bee! you’re a dusty fellow, You’ve powdered your legs with gold; O, brave marsh Mary-buds, rich and yellow! Give me your money to hold. O, Columbine! open your folded wrapper Where two twin turtle-doves dwell; O, Cuckoo-pint! toll me the purple clapper, That hangs in your clear green bell. And show me your nest with the young ones in it— I will not steal them away; I am old! you must trust me, Linnet, Linnet— I am seven times one to-day.