We bear velvet cream
Green and babyish
Small leaves seem; each stream
Horses' tails that swish
And the chimes remind
Us of sweet birds singing
Like the jangling bells
On rose trees ringing
Man must say farewell
To parents now
And to William Tell
And Mrs. Cow
Man must say farewells
To storks and Bettes
And to roses' bells
And statuettes
Forests white and black
In spring are blue
With forget-me-nots
And to lovers true
Still the sweet bird begs
And tries to cozen
Them: “Buy angels' eggs
Sold by the dozen.”
Gone are clouds like inns
On the gardens' brinks
And the mountain djinns—
Ganymede sells drinks;
While the days seem gray
And his heart of ice
Gray as chamois, or
The edelweiss
And the mountain streams
Like cowbells sound—
Tirra lirra, drowned
In the waiter's dreams
Who has gone beyond
The forest waves
While his true and fond
Ones seek their graves.’