THE DEW

HARDLY any youngster knows
What the dew is on a rose.

If you children all are nice
I will teach you in a trice.

Long ago when men were sage,
(This was in the Golden Age,)

They were certain lovely-lipped,
Meadow-haunting fairies tripped

Night by night in starlit reels
Practising their fragile heels.

But to-day to hosts and hosts
Fairies are less real than ghosts.