416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find— A long—long Yellow—on the Lawn— A Hubbub—as of feet— Not audible—as Ours—to Us— But dapperer—More Sweet— A Hurrying Home of little Men To Houses unperceived— All this—and more—if I should tell— Would never be believed— Of Robins in the Trundle bed How many I espy Whose Nightgowns could not hide the Wings— Although I heard them try— But then I promised ne'er to tell— How could I break My Word? So go your Way—and I'll go Mine— No fear you'll miss the Road.