Chapter I: DO not like to say good-night,

I hate to shut my eyes,
When fringe-beams of the stars and moon
Make day-things play surprise.

The night is such a wonder-world,
I love it more than day.
The Dark comes close and calls. That's why
My prayers are hard to say.

HOVER-TIME

IT is the hover-time
That comes between the light and dark.
The little squirrels climb
Into their nests in trees and hark
To rustly leaves about.
Far off, I hear new insect cries--
From things which never dare call out
In daytime: they're afraid of _Eyes_.

Out from the purply wood
The first bat circles on the fly.
Far things draw on a hood
And shadows hide the place where sky
And earth make dim their line.
The trees change shape, and soon the gray
Blurs into black; and that's the hour
When dark comes down to stay.

TREASURE CRAFT

UPON the brook, for treasure-craft,
I sail some petals, red and white;
They always go away from me--
They float much faster in their flight,
Than I can run along the bank.
My precious wee bit things bear freight;

Which very soon falls overboard,
And sinks where miser-folk await
To snatch my sparkling treasure-store.
Perhaps the waters dash too high
For such a little fleet of ships,
And that may be the reason why
My crafts do not return again.

Still, I expect them any day.
I've lost some things I love the best,--
My flower-chains and ribbons gay--
But, though I miss these pretty things,
I love much more the sailing-fun,
And launch new ships when morning sings,
And rainbow mist floats in the sun.

THE MOON PATH

IF I could walk along the path
The moonlight makes upon the sea,
I know that I should find the one
Who sings the Silver Song to me.

THE RING CHARM