Stockings or Scales

If I were asked of all things what I most would like to be, I’d choose to be a mermaid and live below the sea. How nice, instead of walking, to swim around like little whales, And to wear, instead of stockings, many shiny pairs of scales, Which don’t need changing every time that nurse says they are wet. And then to have no shoes that always come untied!—and yet—

And yet, although it must be nice to swim around in scales, To attend a school of porpoises and play at tag with whales, To be on friendly speaking terms with jellyfish and eels, And never to be sent to bed or told I’m late for meals; Still, when I think of Christmas Eve my resolution fails, How could I hang my stockings up if I had only scales?

They were three robbers; aye, And they robbed a red, red rose; And they came from out the sky, And they went where no man knows.

One came when the day was young, And rent the curtain gray Of mist that round her hung, And he stole her pearls away;

One came when the day was old, And a sable coat he wore, And a belt of dusty gold, And he robbed her treasure-store.

One came when the day was dead, And no man saw him pass; And he caught her petals red And threw them upon the grass.

Three robbers bold were they, And they robbed a red, red rose; And they came and went away, And whither— no man knows.