Uploaded on October 29, 2011
There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover,
There’s no rain left in heaven;
I’ve said my “seven times” over and over,
Seven times one are seven.
I am old, so old, I can write a letter;
My birthday lessons are done;
The lambs play always, they know no better;
They are only one times one.
O Moon! in the night I have seen you sailing
And shining so round and low;
You were bright! ah, bright! but your light is failing—
You are nothing now but a bow.
You Moon, have you done something wrong in heaven
That God has hidden your face?
I hope if you have you will soon be forgiven,
And shine again in your place.
O velvet Bee, you’re a dusty fellow,
You’ve powdered your legs with gold!
O brave Marsh Marybuds, rich and yellow,
Give me your money to hold!
O Columbine, open your folded wrapper,
Where two twin turtledoves dwell!
O Cuckoo pint, toll me the purple clapper
That hangs in your clear green bell!
And show me your nest with the young ones in it;
I will not steal them away;
I am old! you may trust me, Linnet, Linnet—
I am seven times one today.
—Jean Inglelow
Favorite Poems Old and New
edited by Helen Ferris
10.29.2023: This is a cute poem.