The top it hummeth a sweet, sweet song To my dear little boy at play-- Merrily singeth all day long, As it spinneth and spinneth away. And my dear little boy He laugheth with joy When he heareth the monotone Of that busy thing That loveth to sing The song that is all its own. Hold fast the string and wind it tight, That the song be loud and clear; Now hurl the top with all your might Upon the banquette here; And straight from the string The joyous thing Boundeth and spinneth along, And it whirrs and it chirrs And it birrs and it purrs Ever its pretty song. Will ever my dear little boy grow old, As some have grown before? Will ever his heart feel faint and cold, When he heareth the songs of yore? Will ever this toy Of my dear little boy, When the years have worn away, Sing sad and low Of the long ago, As it singeth to me to-day? LADY BUTTON-EYES When the busy day is done, And my weary little one Rocketh gently to and fro; When the night winds softly blow, And the crickets in the glen Chirp and chirp and chirp again; When upon the haunted green Fairies dance around their queen-- Then from yonder misty skies Cometh Lady Button-Eyes. Through the murk and mist and gloam To our quiet, cozy home, Where to singing, sweet and low, Rocks a cradle to and fro; Where the clock's dull monotone Telleth of the day that's done; Where the moonbeams hover o'er Playthings sleeping on the floor-- Where my weary wee one lies Cometh Lady Button-Eyes. Cometh like a fleeting ghost From some distant eerie coast; Never footfall can you hear As that spirit fareth near-- Never whisper, never word From that shadow-queen is heard. In ethereal raiment dight, From the realm of fay and sprite In the depth of yonder skies Cometh Lady Button-Eyes. Layeth she her hands upon My dear weary little one, And those white hands overspread Like a veil the curly head, Seem to fondle and caress Every little silken tress; Then she smooths the eyelids down Over those two eyes of brown-- In such soothing, tender wise Cometh Lady Button-Eyes. Dearest, feel upon your brow That caressing magic now; For the crickets in the glen Chirp and chirp and chirp again, While upon the haunted green Fairies dance around their queen, And the moonbeams hover o'er Playthings sleeping on the floor-- Hush, my sweet! from yonder skies Cometh Lady Button-Eyes! THE RIDE TO BUMPVILLE