When the moon shines o'er the corn And the beetle drones his horn, And the flittermice swift fly, And the nightjars swooping cry, And the young hares run and leap, We waken from our sleep. And we climb with tiny feet And we munch the green corn sweet With startled eyes for fear The white owl should fly near, Or long slim weasel spring Upon us where we swing. We do no hurt at all: Is there not room for all Within the happy world? All day we lie close curled In drowsy sleep, nor rise Till through the dusky skies The moon shines o'er the corn, And the beetle drones his horn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DOUBLE STANDARD by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 11 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING VERSES, SPOKEN EXTEMPORE AT THE MEETING OF A CLUB by JOHN BYROM IF LIFE WERE A BANQUET by JOSEPHINE AUGUSTA CASS |