THE BUCKLE

I had a silver buckle,

I sewed it on my shoe,

And‘ neath a sprig of mistletoe

I danced the evening through.

I had a bunch of cowslips,

I hid them in a grot,

In case the elves should come by night

And me remember not.

I had a yellow riband,

I tied it in my hair,

That, walking in the garden,

The birds might see it there.

I had a secret laughter,

I laughed it near the wall:

Only the ivy and the wind

May tell of it at all.