LITTLE BLUE HORSES
The little blue horses come prancing, Shaking their flying white manes;Hark to the silvery tinkle
Of shells that are strung on their reins-- Pink shells,Purple shells,
Chink-a-chink, like silver bells.
The little blue horses come pawing Their way up the yellow sand;On each is a merman a-riding,
His sea-weed switch in his hand.
Pink shells, Purple shells,
Chink-a-chink, like silver bells.
The little blue steeds with their riders Will gallop away and away:
And we only shall know by their footprints That they"ve ridden across the bay.
Pink shells, Purple shells,
Chink-a-chink, like silver bells.
-- CHARLOTTE DRUITT COLE
