Oh apples, come for the June!
Can you come, will you bloom?
Will you stay till the cold?

XI
I will sing you a song,
Sweets-of-my-heart,
With love in it,
(How I love you!)
And a rose to swing in the wind,
The wind that swings roses!

XII
Will you love me to-morrow after next,
As if I had a bird's way of singing?


FIVE TO SIX YEARS OLD

GARDEN OF THE WORLD

The butterfly swings over the violet
That stands by the water,
In the garden that sings
All day.
The sun goes up in the dawn,
The water waves softly.
In the trees are little breezes,
In the garden trees.
Blue hills and blue waters I