FIRE-FLIES

Over the meadow they’re flying low, Bright little runaway stars, And I sit by the window and watch them glow Over the pasture bars; They’re almost afraid to burn very bright For fear they’ll be hurried back tonight; So they shine out a minute,—then hide their light, Wise little runaway stars! Far up above them the other stars (Poor little patient things!) Sit in the sky and study the clouds Folding their sad little wings; With the stern moon to watch them they sit and sigh: “Won’t lessons be over, by and by? We want to go down to the earth and fly!” Runaway, runaway stars!