Somewhere or other, may be near or far; Past land and sea, clean out of sight; Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star That tracks her night by night. Somewhere or other, may be far or near; With just a wall, a hedge, between; 10 With just the last leaves of the dying year Fallen on a turf grown green. A CHILL What can lambkins do All the keen night through? Nestle by their woolly mother The careful ewe. What can nestlings do In the nightly dew? Sleep beneath their mother's wing Till day breaks anew. If in a field or tree There might only be 10 Such a warm soft sleeping-place Found for me! CHILD'S TALK IN APRIL I wish you were a pleasant wren, And I your small accepted mate; How we'd look down on toilsome men! We'd rise and go to bed at eight Or it may be not quite so late. Then you should see the nest I'd build, The wondrous nest for you and me; The outside rough perhaps, but filled With wool and down; ah, you should see The cosy nest that it would be. 10 We'd have our change of hope and fear, Small quarrels, reconcilements sweet: I'd perch by you to chirp and cheer, Or hop about on active feet, And fetch you dainty bits to eat. We'd be so happy by the day, So safe and happy through the night, We both should feel, and I should say, It's all one season of delight, And we'll make merry whilst we may. 20 Perhaps some day there'd be an egg When spring had blossomed from the snow: I'd stand triumphant on one leg; Like chanticleer I'd almost crow To let our little neighbours know. Next you should sit and I would sing Through lengthening days of sunny spring; Till, if you wearied of the task, I'd sit; and you should spread your wing From bough to bough; I'd sit and bask. 30 Fancy the breaking of the shell, The chirp, the chickens wet and bare, The untried proud paternal swell; And you with housewife-matron air Enacting choicer bills of fare. Fancy the embryo coats of down, The gradual feathers soft and sleek; Till clothed and strong from tail to crown, With virgin warblings in their beak, They too go forth to soar and seek. 40 So would it last an April through And early summer fresh with dew: Then should we part and live as twain, Love-time would bring me back to you And build our happy nest again. GONE FOR EVER O happy rose-bud blooming Upon thy parent tree, Nay, thou art too presuming; For soon the earth entombing Thy faded charms shall be, And the chill damp consuming. O happy skylark springing Up to the broad blue sky, Too fearless in thy winging, Too gladsome in thy singing, 10 Thou also soon shalt lie Where no sweet notes are ringing.