Who knows the thoughts of a child? - Nora Perry

Some day, some day of days, threading the street,
With idle, heedless pace,
Unlooking for such grace,
I shall behold your face!
Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet.

So sweet, so sweet, the roses in their blowing,
So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see;
So blithe and gay the humming-bird a-going
From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee.

They sat and combed their beautiful hair, Their long, bright tresses, one by one,
As they laughed and talked in the chamber there, After the revel was done.