33
Miss Lintlocks.
Miss Lintlocks sits where the morning sun
Has woven a golden mesh,
And the airs that pass across the grass
Are tender, and sweet, and fresh.
Has woven a golden mesh,
And the airs that pass across the grass
Are tender, and sweet, and fresh.
Miss Lintlocks sings in a crooning voice,
Like a wind through the water-reeds,
Of the strangest things, of flowers with wings,
And wonderful dancing weeds,
Like a wind through the water-reeds,
Of the strangest things, of flowers with wings,
And wonderful dancing weeds,
Of birds that talk, of clouds that make
Soft pillows for little ones,
And of sailing high thro' a purple sky
All sprinkled with silver suns.
Soft pillows for little ones,
And of sailing high thro' a purple sky
All sprinkled with silver suns.
Miss Lintlocks smiles at her dimpled foot
And nods at her tinted toes,
Then slips the tips 'tween her parted lips
And the point of her little nose,
And nods at her tinted toes,
Then slips the tips 'tween her parted lips
And the point of her little nose,
For her knitted socks in the grass are hid
And her shoes are, she knows not where;
I fear, in sooth, to tell the truth
That Miss Lintlocks does not care.
And her shoes are, she knows not where;
I fear, in sooth, to tell the truth
That Miss Lintlocks does not care.
