There's no dew left on the daisies and clover,
There's no rain left in heaven;
I've said my "seven times" over and over,
Seven times one are seven.
I am old! so old I can write a letter;
My birthday lessons are done;
The lambs play always, they know no better;
They are only one times one.
O Moon! in the night I have seen you sailing,
And shining so round and low;
You were bright! ah, bright! but your light is failing,—
You are nothing now but a bow.
You Moon! have you done something wrong in heaven,
That God has hidden your face?
I hope, if you have, you will soon be forgiven,
And shine again in your place.
O velvet Bee, you're a dusty fellow,
You've powdered your legs with gold!
O brave marsh Mary-buds, rich and yellow!
Give me your money to hold.
O Columbine! open your folded wrapper,
Where two twin turtle-doves dwell;
O Cuckoo-pint! toll me the purple clapper,
That hangs in your clear, green bell!
And show me your nest with the young ones in it—
I will not steal them away;
I am old! you may trust me, Linnet, Linnet—
I am seven times one to-day.