A CHILD'S DAY
When I was a little child
It was always golden weather.
My days stretched out so long
From rise to set of sun,
I sang and danced and smiled—
My light heart like a feather—
From morn to even-song;
The child's days are done.
It was always golden weather.
My days stretched out so long
From rise to set of sun,
I sang and danced and smiled—
My light heart like a feather—
From morn to even-song;
The child's days are done.
I used to wake with the birds—
The little birds wake early,
For the sunshine leaps and plays
On the mother's head and wing—
And the clouds were white as curds,
The apple-trees stood pearly:
I always think of the child's days
As one unending Spring.
The little birds wake early,
For the sunshine leaps and plays
On the mother's head and wing—
And the clouds were white as curds,
The apple-trees stood pearly:
I always think of the child's days
As one unending Spring.
I knew where all flowers grew.
I used to lie in the meadow
Ere reaping-time and mowing-time
And carting home the hay.
And O the skies were blue!
O drifting light and shadow!
It was another time and clime—
The little child's sweet day.
I used to lie in the meadow
Ere reaping-time and mowing-time
And carting home the hay.
And O the skies were blue!
O drifting light and shadow!
It was another time and clime—
The little child's sweet day.
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