At the Window
In and out, in and out,
Through the clouds heaped about,
Wanders the bright moon.
What she seeks, I do not know;
Where it is, I cannot show.
I am but a little child,
And the night is strange and wild.
In and out, in and out,
Wanders the bright moon;
In and out, in and out,
She will find it soon.
There she comes! as clear as day,—
Now the clouds are going away.
She is smiling, I can see,
And she’s looking straight at me.
Pretty moon, so bright and round,
Won’t you tell me what you found?