Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v108.djvu/104



eople say to me,
 * "A penny tor your thought!"

And I can't remember thinking;
 * And I should think I ought.

I wasn't sleeping, either;
 * I know that, because

I saw things out of my two eyes:
 * I wonder where I was.

ow I'm back, I see them
 * Sitting all around;

And the noise together
 * Makes a purring sound.

But I know something more
 * Than just awhile ago;

I know something more!—
 * I wonder what I know.

like to lie and wait to see
 * My Mother braid her hair;

It is as long as it can be,
 * And yet she doesn't care.
 * I love Mothers hair.

nd then the way her fingers go;
 * They look so quick and white,—

In and out, and to and fro.
 * And braiding in the light.
 * And it is always right.

o then she winds, it, shiny brown, Around her head into a crown,
 * Just like the day before;

And then she looks, and pats it down,
 * And looks a minute more;

While I stay here, all still and cool: Oh, isn't morning beautiful?