The World - Poem by Ruth Manning-Sanders
Hobbling, hobbling, hobbling,
I am hobbling after you.
Up the sunny little street
Where your merry morning feet
Heed not what others do.
For a fairy dress of light
Hangs about your shoulders bright.
Darling, darling, darling,
Come into my little shop !
Here the light with dust is dim.
Here your winged thoughts we'll trim
To crawl and crouch and hop ;
In my mirror you shall see
Every soul walks crookedly.
Deary, deary, deary.
Here's a better cloak for you;
You may hide your wants away
And wrap your heart from beams of day
In folds of solemn blue.
And the fairy dress we'll leave
In the chest of make-believe.
Weary, weary, weary.
When I bow you out to-night—
Oh the puckered line of care
Set between your eyebrows there.
Oh mouth pulled sour and tight !-
None shall know the little one
When my wizardry is done.
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