Poems (Bacon)/The secret playmate
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II. THE SECRET PLAYMATE
When I am playing underneath the tree,
I look around—and there he is with me!
I look around—and there he is with me!
Among the shadows of the boughs he stands,
And shakes the leaves at me with both his hands.
And shakes the leaves at me with both his hands.
And then upon the mossy roots we lie,
And watch the leaves make pictures on the sky.
And watch the leaves make pictures on the sky.
And then we swing and float from bough to bough—
And never fall? I can't remember now.
And never fall? I can't remember now.
The games I play with him are always best,
And yet we cannot teach them to the rest.
And yet we cannot teach them to the rest.
For when the others come to join our play,
I look around—and he has slipped away!
I look around—and he has slipped away!
They ask me if he speaks—I cannot tell;
But no one else can play with me so well.
But no one else can play with me so well.