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On such a night, or such a night
Would anybody care
If such a little figure
Slipped quiet from its chair

So quiet—Oh how quiet
That nobody might know
But that the little figure
Rocked softer—to and fro

On such a dawn, or such a dawn
Would anybody sigh
That such a little figure
Too sound asleep did lie

For Chanticleer to wake it
Or stirring house below
Or giddy bird in orchard
Or early task to do?

There was a little figure plump
For every little knoll
Busy needles, and spools of thread
And trudging feet from school
Playmates, and holidays, and nuts
And visions vast and small
Strange that the feet so precious charged
Should reach so small a goal!