The Poetry Corner

The Gnomies

By Walter De La Mare

As I lay awake in the white moonlight, I heard a sweet singing in the wood - 'Out of bed, Sleepyhead, Put your white foot now, Here are we, 'Neath the tree, Singing round the root now!' I looked out of window in the white moonlight, The trees were like snow in the wood - 'Come away Child and play, Light wi' the gnomies; In a mound, Green and round, That's where their home is! 'Honey sweet, Curds to eat, Cream and frumnty, Shells and beads, Poppy seeds, You shall have plenty.' But soon as I stooped in the dim moonlight To put on my stocking and my shoe, The sweet, sweet singing died sadly away, And the light of the morning peep'd through: Then instead of the gnomies there came a red robin To sing of the buttercups and dew.