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Show THE LITTLE VOYAGER. Oh, the ways are many to Drowsy Land. Some one, I know, would try them all. 'T is hey. tonight, for a his balloon, Bif? and round like a silver ball. Up through the dark it swings alons, Blown by the night wind's rustling song. Slowly it sways and swings this way, Poising, at last, just overhead, When down drops a glimmering rope of lipht. And climbing the ladder of silver beams. Some one embarks for the land of dreams. ' All through the night, in the shining shin-ing thing, Silent they float through the cool, sweet dark. Reeds they dip in the for. my clouds. Where the summer lightnings glint and spark And east and west, o'er the wind-swept sky. The twinkling, golden bubbles fly. i Do you ask me how Some One comes home again? When deep in the west dips the silver sphere? Oh. never a thought do I give to that, Perhaps the sun is ihe charioteer. I only know that the tiny bed, Pillows each morning a golden heat'. New England Magazine. |