Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/111



H, listen, little Dear-My-Soul, To the fairy voices calling, For the moon is high in the misty sky And the honey dew is falling; To the midnight feast in the clover bloom The bluebells are a-ringing, And it's "Come away to the land of fay" That the katydid is singing.

Oh, slumber, little Dear-My-Soul, And hand in hand we'll wander— Hand in hand to the beautiful land Of Balow, away off yonder; Or we'll sail along in a lily leaf Into the white moon's halo— Over a stream of mist and dream Into the land of Balow.