  If you have been unhappy all the day, Wait patiently until the night: When in the sky the gentle stars are bright The Dream Coach comes to carry you away. To please the child who rides! Painted with funny men—see that one’s hose, How blue! How red and long is that one’s nose! And under this one’s arm a flapping cock! Great dandelions tell us what o’clock With silver globe much bigger than the moon—— Dream Coach, come soon! Come soon! And brown and lilac butterflies, and spray Of stars, and animals from far away, Grey elephants, a bright pink water bird; Things lovely and absurd. As the wheels turn, they wake to lovely sound, Musical boxes—as the wheels go round They play a little silver spray of notes: “Swift Runs the River”—“Bluebells in the Wood”—— “The Waterfall”—“The Child Who Has Been Good”—— Like splash of foam at keel of little boats. Under a sky of duck-egg green Have you not seen The hundred misty horses that delight To draw the coach all night, And the queer little Driver sitting high, And singing to the sky? His hair is as white as snow; His cheeks and his nose are as red as can be; He sings: “Come along! Come along with me!” Let us go! Let us go! His coat is speckledy red and black, His boots are as green as a beetle’s back, His beard has a fringe of silver bells And scarlet berries and small white shells, And as through the night the Dream Coach gleams, The song he sings like a banner streams: “Nothing is real in all the world, Nothing is real but dreams.” Through sound of rain the Dream Coach gallops fast. All those that we have loved are riding there: I hear their laughter on the misty air. I wait for you—I have been waiting long: Far off I hear the Driver’s tiny song—— Oh, Dream Coach! Come at last! (From Knee-High to a Grasshopper.) |
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