I WISH the clever men who made
The whirly things with patents on,
The telephone and phonograph,
The watch that tells how far you've gone,
Would just invent some bottled sleep
That we could take at night,
And then again when it grows light.
It might keep little boys awake
When there is company.
All I should have to do, would be
To pour a glass of sleep to take.
The things I leave undone,
Because I haven't time enough,
The things I've only half begun—
My castle-house, my doll-queen's ruff—
I'd get quite finished in a day.
I'd have some time left over, too.
I'd have the chance to do new things.
And first of all, I'd learn to play
The games the flowers frolic through,
Each afternoon, and I'd find who
Has charge of yesterday.
I think that made-to-order dreams
Of rainbow-folk and orange-creams
Would be much nicer than the kind
Which on dark nights I always find.