When she was but a little child, And only two feet high, She clapped her hands and cried, 'Shoo, Shoo!' To make the small birds fly; Till with her mouth as sweet as a bee's, Her laughter shook the old folks' knees. But no one laughs when this small child, Grown to a woman soon, Claps her two hands and tries to shoo Away the stars and moon; As though one star should leave its place, Even for her afflicted face. |