A BALLAD OF THE KIND LITTLE CREATURES

I had no where to go,

I had no money to spend:

“O come with me,” the Beaver said,

“I live at the world's end.”

“Does the world ever end!”

To the Beaver then said I:

“O yes! the green world ends,” he said,

“Up there in the blue sky.”

I walked along with him to home,

At the edge of a singing stream —

The little faces in the town

Seemed made out of a dream.

I sat down in the little house,

And ate with the kind things —

Then suddenly a bird comes out

Of the bushes, and he sings:

“Have you no home? O take my nest,

It almost is the sky;”

And then there came along the creek

A purple dragon-fly.

“Have you no home?” he said;

“O come along with me,

Get on my wings — the moon's my home” —

The dragon-fly said he.

The Bee was told by a young Bat

A man had need of home;

He flew away at once, and said

“Come to my honeycomb!”

Even the butterfly,

A painted hour;

Said to the homeless one:

“I know a flower.”

The Ant came slowly,

Late, of course, but still

Bringing the tiny welcome

Of his hill.

The tired turtle,

Fumbling through the wood,

Came, asking hospitably

“If I would?”

Even a hornet came,

With sheathed sting,—

He never yet had seen

So lost a thing!

There was his nest

Up in the singing boughs,

Among the pears,

A fragrant humming house.

And even little

Stupid things that crawl

Among the reeds, deeming

That that is all,

Came a long weary way

To bid me home.

A snake said:

“In the world there is a place

Where you can lie

And dream of her white face.”

The moss said: “Your blue eyes

Need my green sleep”;

The willow said: “Ah! when

You weep I weep.”

Wonderful earth

Of little kindly things,

That buzz and beam

And flitter little wings!

Over the sexton's grave

The growing grass

Cried out: “Come home!

I am alive, alas!”