A Child's Fancy

O little flowers, you love me so,

You could not do without me;

O little birds that come and go,

ou sing sweet songs about me;

O little moss, observed by few,

That round the tree is creeping,

You like my head to rest on you,

When I am idly sleeping.

O rushes by the river side,

You bow when I come near you;

O fish, you leap about with pride,

Because you think I hear you;

O river, you shine clear and bright,

To tempt me to look in you;

O water-lilies, pure and white,

You hope that I shall win you.

O pretty things, you love me so,

I see I must not leave you;

You'd find it very dull, I know,

I should not like to grieve you.

Don't wrinkle up, you silly moss;

My flowers, you need not shiver;

My little buds, don't look so cross;

Don't talk so loud, my river.

And I will make a promise, dears,

That will content you, maybe;

I'll love you through the happy years,

Till I'm a nice old lady!

True love (like yours and mine) they say

Can never think of ceasing,

But year by year, and day by day,

Keeps steadily increasing.