Silver Buttons

WHEN I was half asleep, and wholly dreaming,
Out in the maple grove the other day,
A woman on a swift horse passed me, riding
Far down the hill-side in a splendid way.

Oh, there was something very bright about her;
She went so swiftly that I do not know
What all that brightness was, but stars and sunshine
Gleamed down the shady road I saw her go.

She was no angel riding down from heaven,
For she had on a very mundane dress,
And all adown it two long rows of buttons
Threw back the light of heaven like worldliness.

All of the scene that I can well remember
Is the swift grace with which she dashed along,
And the two twinkling rows of starry buttons.
What matter, then, is this to make a song?

But it has done it. As the vision vanished
My heart set up a song. Oh, how it sings
Of stars and brightness! and her dashing motion
Gave me the time in which the music rings.

Those buttons! oh, those buttons! Why she wore them
I cannot think. Were they for use or show?
And why should I persist in thinking of them ?
These all are mysteries I cannot know.

Those buttons! oh, ’t was vanity to wear them.
I ’ve learned she sat up late to sew them strong,
Then slept to dream of me, and slyly saw me
The while she rode so loftily along.

'T was folly I beheld, and now I know it,
I long the more to see the sight, again.
She thought of me while setting all those buttons, —
Of me alone in this great world of men.