A murmur in the trees to note

VIII.

AMURMUR in the trees to note,

      Not loud enough for wind;

A star not far enough to seek,

      Nor near enough to find;

A long, long yellow on the lawn,

      A hubbub as of feet;

Not audible, as ours to us,

      But dapperer, more sweet;

A hurrying home of little men

      To houses unperceived,—

All this, and more, if I should tell,

      Would never be believed.

Of robins in the trundle bed

      How many I espy

Whose nightgowns could not hide the wings,

      Although I heard them try!

But then I promised ne'er to tell;

      How could I break my word?

So go your way and I'll go mine,—

      No fear you'll miss the road.