Sleepy-hoods

There's an old man in the woods, Swift as summer, tall as smoke. When the last leaf's left the oak And the north wind cries and searches All among the shivering birches,— Wraps him in a tattered cloak, Goes a-selling of his goods Up and down the long white woods,— Selling little sleepy-hoods.

O, his hoods. Laid with fur and lined with feather, Very warm for winter weather, Hoods for squirrels, hoods for bears, Hoods for little lady-hares. O, his hoods, Sewn with down along the seams, Bright with little beaded gleams, Woven out of sleep and dreams.

Hear the old man calling, crying, "Come a-trying, come a-buying. Here's a little hood shall bring To its wearer dreams of spring, Woven all of brier dew With a thrush-song running through. Here's a hood shall send some crow Smiling thoughts along the snow. Here's a furry hood shall make Summer for a rabbit's sake, Warm with down of fronds unfurled In the daytime of the world."

O, his hoods. Search among his shining goods, Quills of scarlet, golden gleams, Find the hood that has no dreams. Find the white hood, soft and deep, Made of sleep, Lined with petals of white roses Fallen when the moon uncloses, Flowerlike stars around her still, O'er the hemlocks on some hill, Some far hill we shall not find Down the highways of the wind.

Hear the old man wandering, crying, "Who's a-seeking? Who's a-buying? Wear it, and you shall not fear All the changes of the year— Iris-moon and April night Hold for you the same delight, Cedar-scented rains and clear Frost of stars alike be dear. Safely, safely shall you lie, Idle while the hunt goes by Singing through the windy woods. Soft as summer it shall hold you, Sweet as silence it shall fold you,— Sleepiest of sleepy-hoods."