BUTTERCUP, POPPY, FORGET-ME-NOT

Playing and dreaming—and that was all Till once a sleeper would not awake; Kissing the little face under the pall,

45

We thought of the words the third flower

spake;

And we found betimes in a hallowed spot

The solace and peace of Forget-me-not.

Buttercup shareth the joy of day,
Glinting with gold the hours of play;

Bringeth the poppy sweet repose,

When the hands would fold and the eyes would close;

And after it all-the play and the sleep

Of a little life-what cometh then?

To the hearts that ache and the eyes that

weep

A new flower bringeth God's peace again. Each one serveth its tender lot

Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not.

WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD

YNKEN, Blynken, and Nod one night

WYNK

Sailed off in a wooden shoe

Sailed on a river of crystal light,

Into a sea of dew.

"Where are you going, and what do you wish ?"

The old moon asked the three.

"We have come to fish for the herring fish That live in this beautiful sea;

Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,

And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.

WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD

The little stars were the herring fish

That lived in that beautiful sea

"Now cast your nets wherever you wish Never afeard are we";

47

So cried the stars to the fishermen three:

Wynken,

Blynken,
And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam-
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;

'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed

As if it could not be,

And some folks thought 't was a dream they'd dreamed

Of sailing that beautiful sea

But I shall name you the fishermen three:

Wynken,

Blynken,

And Nod.

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WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,

And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.

So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,

And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,

Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen

three:

Wynken,

Blynken,

And Nod.

GOLD AND LOVE FOR DEARIE

UT on the mountain over the town,
All night long, all night long,

The trolls go up and the trolls go down,
Bearing their packs and singing a song;
And this is the song the hill-folk croon,
As they trudge in the light of the misty

moon

This is ever their dolorous tune:

"Gold, gold! ever more goldBright red gold for dearie!"

Deep in the hill a father delves
All night long, all night long;
None but the peering, furtive elves
Sees his toil and hears his song;