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Gold between the poplars
An old moon shows;
Silver up the star-way
The full moon rose;
Silver down the star-way
The old moon crept . . .
And, one by another,
The grey fields slept.
An old moon shows;
Silver up the star-way
The full moon rose;
Silver down the star-way
The old moon crept . . .
And, one by another,
The grey fields slept.
Lords of the Nursery
Their still watch keep . . .
They hear from the sheep-fold
The rustle of sheep.
A young bird twitters
And hides its head;
A little wind suddenly
Breathes, and is dead.
Their still watch keep . . .
They hear from the sheep-fold
The rustle of sheep.
A young bird twitters
And hides its head;
A little wind suddenly
Breathes, and is dead.
Slowly and slowly
Dawns the new day . . .
What’s become of John boy?
Dawns the new day . . .
What’s become of John boy?
No one can say.
Some think that John boy
Is lost on the hill;
Some say he won’t come back,
Some say he will.
Some think that John boy
Is lost on the hill;
Some say he won’t come back,
Some say he will.
