She digs in her garden
With a shovel and a spoon,
She weeds her lazy lettuce
By the light of the moon,

She walks up the walk
Like a woman in a dream,
She forgets she borrowed butter
And pays you back cream!

Her lawn looks like a meadow,
And if she mows the place
She leaves the clover standing
And the Queen Anne's lace!


Midnight Oil

Cut if you will, with Sleep's dull knife,
Each day to half its length, my friend,--
The years that Time takes off _my_ life,
He'll take from off the other end!


The Merry Maid

Oh, I am grown so free from care
Since my heart broke!
I set my throat against the air,