Screech, scratch heard she, at night,

when the last man had gone

and turned off the light

The tree, the tree! Cried baby, in fright,

it scratches the window

all every night!

I know, I like it, said mother, despite,

its comforting branches

assuage my blight

No mother! Come sleep, and to baby’s delight

mother held her child

and whispered goodnight.

Baby awoke in the morning, so bright,

but mother was gone,

was nowhere in sight

Til baby looked out, into morning light

and saw mother swing soundly