For every child a gift, I hope.

The doll upon the topmost bough

Is mine. But all the rest are yours.

And I will light the candles now.

The Sun Says his Prayers

"The sun says his prayers," said the fairy,

Or else he would wither and die.

"The sun says his prayers," said the fairy,

"For strength to climb up through the sky.

He leans on invisible angels,

And Faith is his prop and his rod.

The sky is his crystal cathedral.

And dawn is his altar to God."

Popcorn, Glass Balls, and Cranberries (As it were)

I. The Lion

The Lion is a kingly beast.

He likes a Hindu for a feast.

And if no Hindu he can get,

The lion-family is upset.

He cuffs his wife and bites her ears

Till she is nearly moved to tears.

Then some explorer finds the den

And all is family peace again.

II. An Explanation of the Grasshopper

The Grasshopper, the grasshopper,

I will explain to you:--

He is the Brownies' racehorse,

The fairies' Kangaroo.

III. The Dangerous Little Boy Fairies

In fairyland the little boys

Would rather fight than eat their meals.

They like to chase a gauze-winged fly

And catch and beat him till he squeals.

Sometimes they come to sleeping men

Armed with the deadly red-rose thorn,

And those that feel its fearful wound

Repent the day that they were born.

IV. The Mouse that gnawed the Oak-tree Down

The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down

Began his task in early life.

He kept so busy with his teeth

He had no time to take a wife.

He gnawed and gnawed through sun and rain

When the ambitious fit was on,

Then rested in the sawdust till

A month of idleness had gone.

He did not move about to hunt

The coteries of mousie-men.

He was a snail-paced, stupid thing

Until he cared to gnaw again.

The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down,

When that tough foe was at his feet--

Found in the stump no angel-cake

Nor buttered bread, nor cheese, nor meat--

The forest-roof let in the sky.

"This light is worth the work," said he.

"I'll make this ancient swamp more light,"

And started on another tree.

V. Parvenu

Where does Cinderella sleep?

By far-off day-dream river.

A secret place her burning Prince

Decks, while his heart-strings quiver.

Homesick for our cinder world,

Her low-born shoulders shiver;

She longs for sleep in cinders curled--

We, for the day-dream river.

VI. The Spider and the Ghost of the Fly

Once I loved a spider

When I was born a fly,

A velvet-footed spider

With a gown of rainbow-dye.

She ate my wings and gloated.

She bound me with a hair.

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