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.
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