Rose-Moss

Little Rose-moss beside the stone,

Are you lonely in the garden?

There are no friends of you,

And the birds are gone.

Shall I pick you?"

"Little girl up by the hollyhock,

I am not lonely.

I feel the sun burning,

I hold light in my cup,

I have all the rain I want,

I think things to myself that you don't know,

And I listen to the talk of crickets.

I am not lonely,

But you may pick me

And take me to your mother."