Under the Tree | Page 6

was caught against the grassy side, And it was
tangled in the watery grasses where the branch is wide; I had it for my
little ark of rushes that must wait and hide.
I had it for my little Moses hidden where no one could see, The little
baby Moses that nobody knew about but me.
And I was hiding in the flags and I was waiting all the day, And
watching on the bank to see if Pharaoh's daughter came that way.
NUMBERS
When I can count the numbers far,
And know all the figures that there
are,
Then I'll know everything, and I
Can know about the ground and sky,

And all the little bugs I see,
And I'll count the leaves on the silver-leaf
tree,
And all the days that ever can be.
I'll know all the cows and sheep that pass,
And I'll know all the grass,
And all the places far away,
And I'll know everything some day.
IN THE NIGHT
The light was burning very dim,
The little blaze was brown and red,

And I waked just in time to see
A panther going under the bed.
I saw him crowd his body down
To make it fit the little space.
I saw
the streaks along his back,
And bloody bubbles on his face.
Long marks of light came out of my eyes
And went into the
lamp--and there
Was Something waiting in the room--
I saw it
sitting on a chair.
Its only eye was shining red,
Its face was very long and gray,
Its
two bent teeth were sticking out,
And all its jaw was torn away.
Its legs were flat against the chair,
Its arms were hanging like a swing.

It made its eye look into me,
But did not move or say a thing.
I tried to call and tried to scream,
But all my throat was shut and dry.

My little heart was jumping fast,
I couldn't talk or cry.
And when I'd look outside the bed
I'd see the panther going in.
The
streaks were moving on his back,
The bubbles on his chin.
I couldn't help it if they came,
I couldn't save myself at all,
And so I
only waited there
And turned my face against the wall.
THE PEOPLE

The ants are walking under the ground,
And the pigeons are flying
over the steeple,
And in between are the people.
THE GRANDMOTHER
When Grandmother comes to our house,
She sits in the chair and
sews away.
She cuts some pieces just alike
And makes a quilt all
day.
I watch her bite the little thread,
Or stick the needle in and out,
And
then she remembers her grandmother's house,
And what her
grandmother told about,
And how a very long ago--
She tells it while she cuts and strips--

We used to live in Mary-land,
And there was a water with ships.
But that was long before her day,
She says, and so I like to stand

Beside her chair, and then I ask,
"Please tell about in Mary-land."
IN MARYLAND
When it was Grandmother Barbara's day,
We lived on a hill, and
down below,
Beyond the pasture and the trees,
A river used to go.
The water was very wide and blue
And deep, and my! it was a sight

To see the ships go up and down,
And all the sails were white.
And Grandmother Barbara used to wait
Beside the window or the
door.
She never was too tired of it
To watch the river any more.
And we could hardly see across,
And the water was blue, as blue as
the sky,
And all day long and all day long
We watched the little
ships go by.
THE SUNDAY BONNET

It happened at Grandmother Polly's house,
And there was a bonnet
put away
For Polly to wear when she went to church.
She would
not wear it every day.
It had some little flowers on,
And it was standing on its head
In a
bonnet box where it was safe,
Away up stairs on the company's bed.
And Grandmother Polly was going to church,
And she sent her Alice
up the stair--
Alice was black--she was Evaline's child--
She waited
on Polly and combed her hair.
And Alice said, "Oh, lawsie me!"
And then she cried and came
running down.
And everyone went to see, and the cat
Had five little
cats in the bonnet crown.
THE SUN AND A BIRCH TREE
As I came home through Howard's lane,
The trees were bending
down with rain.
A still mist went across their tops,
And my coat was powdered gray
with drops.
Then I looked in the woods to see
The limbs of the white birch tree.
It made a bright spot in the air,
And I thought the sun was shining
there.
A LITTLE WIND
(A Song)
When I lay down
In a clover place,
With eyelids closed,
In a
clover place,
A little wind came to my face.
One gentle wind
Blew on my mouth,
And I said, "It will quiver by.

What little wind now can it be?"
And I lay still
Where the clovers

were.
But when I raised my lids to see,
Then it was a butterfly.
AUTUMN FIELDS
He said his legs