I know a place that holds the Sky
A place where little white clouds lie;
The edge is all green as Grass,
The middle is as smooth as Glass;
And there the round sun makes his Bed;
And there a tree stands on its Head;
Sometimes a Bird sits on that Tree;
Sometimes it sings a song to me;
And always in that shining place
I see a little smiling Face;
She nods and smiles; but all the same
The Girl down there won’t tell her name.
