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MY NOOK6
OH, half way up the hill it was, where one might sit leaf-hidden,
And stare across the canyoned depths to distant miles of blue;
Upon the little path to it no foot might step unbidden.
It was my nook, and mine alone, and not another knew.
And when my doll was sawdust, or my little hopes were fated,
Or all my world was shaken by a little idol's fall,
Up to my dear retreat I'd climb, with grief or anger weighted,
And, hands behind fern-pillowed head, straightway forget it all.
With tears yet damp upon my cheeks I'd fall to castle-building
(The careless linnets fluttered near a little maid so still),
And all the gorgeous tints I knew, and all the wealth of gilding,
Were lavished on the future that I summoned there at will.
"When one is small the troubles come, and then the tears must follow;
When one is small one finds it good to run and cry alone,
But I shall laugh to think that once I found my world so hollow—
I shall not need this little nook," I thought, "when I am grown."
And stare across the canyoned depths to distant miles of blue;
Upon the little path to it no foot might step unbidden.
It was my nook, and mine alone, and not another knew.
And when my doll was sawdust, or my little hopes were fated,
Or all my world was shaken by a little idol's fall,
Up to my dear retreat I'd climb, with grief or anger weighted,
And, hands behind fern-pillowed head, straightway forget it all.
With tears yet damp upon my cheeks I'd fall to castle-building
(The careless linnets fluttered near a little maid so still),
And all the gorgeous tints I knew, and all the wealth of gilding,
Were lavished on the future that I summoned there at will.
"When one is small the troubles come, and then the tears must follow;
When one is small one finds it good to run and cry alone,
But I shall laugh to think that once I found my world so hollow—
I shall not need this little nook," I thought, "when I am grown."
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