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 Now, up in the boughs, like blossoms or bell-birds, Some of the Little-Ones sway; Some of them down on the grass, like blossoms Strewn by the breezes stay. First, a shower of green leaves, Just for fun.... then, Pitter-patter, drip-drop, Fruit in a rich rain.— And nobody ever was bruis’d, Nobody miss’d his catch, Nobody caught too much or too little, Nobody tried to snatch. But each, of the dainties delicate, Enjoyingly, all that he wanted, ate.

Then, out from the garden, in glad carouse, They set a siege to the silent house; In at the dusty windows pried, Loose old latches rattled and tried— Aha! and presently flicker’d inside! Warm breath sweeten’d each musty room, Laughter and dances lit the gloom; Hunters lurk’d behind every door, Housekeeping homes divided the floor, And travelling merchants spread their store. But soon, these Sunbeams, they miss’d the Sun. Out! and back to the garden they run; And out of the garden, and on to the track, Follow the water, and run along back— Every step a new pleasure, At every turn a new treasure, Till, like the tide, with laughter and glee, Back they flock to the shore and the Sea.