Oh, would I were little, to dance with the leaves That flittingly, trippingly frolic so gay; We'd roll down the roofs and we'd race through the eaves, And over the village we'd scamper away; Yes, over the village we'd rustle away. And would I were bigger, to dance with the trees That bend to each other, so stately and fine; I'd swing on their boughs with the rollicking breeze, And oh, for a partner the birch should be mine; The dainty and delicate birch should be mine. But stay! I believe I'll remain as I am, Just not very little and not very tall; For now I can frolic with Susie and Sam, And that is far better, far better than all; Far better than house-tops and tree-tops and all! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FONTAINEBLEAU (AUTUMN) by SARA TEASDALE HIDE AND SEEK by SARA TEASDALE THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 17. A LOVER'S PLEA by THOMAS CAMPION THE WORLD by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER 23RD STREET RUNS INTO HEAVEN by KENNETH PATCHEN E NIHILO NIHIL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LINES WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAD OF 'THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |