I have a mourning star that
goes in and out with me,
and what can be the use of her
is more than I can see.

She is very like me
from the heels up to the head;
and I see her jump before me,
when I jump into my bed.

The saddest thing about her
is the way she likes to glow
not at all like proper bright star,
which is always very slow;

For she sometimes shoots up taller
like an india-rubber ball,
and she sometimes gets so little
that there's none of her at all.

She hasn't got a notion 
of how mourning stars ought to play,
and can only make a fool of me
in every sort of way.

She stays so close beside me,
she is a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie 
as that mourning star sticks to me!

One night,
before the moon was up
I rose and found the shining dew
on every buttercup;
but my mourning bright star, 
like an arrant sleepyhead,
had stayed at home behind me
and was fast asleep in bed.



AIXA