Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/126

 And when the morn wakes up to see

le bright, my soul's delight!

The partridge shall come calling thee,

My jar of milk-and-honey!

Yes, thou shalt know what mystery lies

In the amethyst deep of the curtained skies,

If thou wilt fold thy onyx eyes,

You wakeful one, you naughty son,

You cooing little turtle!