Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/20

 But, as soon as I stooped in the dim moonlight
 * To put on my stocking and my shoe,

The sweet shrill singing echoed faintly away,
 * And the grey of the morning peeped through,

And instead of the gnomies there came a red robin
 * To sing of the buttercups and dew.