IHoops2Blue and pink sashes,Criss-cross shoes,Minna and Stella run out into the gardenTo play at hoop1.Up and down the garden-paths they race,In the yellow sunshine,Each with a big round hoopWhite as a stripped willow3-wand.Round and round turn the hoops,Their diamond whiteness cleaving4 the yellow sunshine.The gravel5 crunches6 and squeaks7 beneath them,And a large pebble8 springs them into the airTo go whirling for a foot or twoBefore they touch the earth againIn a series of little jumps.Spring, Hoops!Spit out a shower of blue and white brightness.The little criss-cross shoes twinkle behind you,The pink and blue sashes flutter like flags,The hoop-sticks are ready to beat you.Turn, turn, Hoops! In the yellow sunshine.Turn your stripped willow whitenessAlong the smooth paths.Stella sings:"Round and round, rolls my hoop,Scarcely touching9 the ground,With a swoop,And a bound,Round and round.With a bumpety, crunching10, scattering11 sound,Down the garden it flies;In our eyesThe sun lies.See it spinOut and in;Through the paths it goes whirling,About the beds curling.Sway now to the loop,Faster, faster, my hoop.Round you come,Up you come,Quick and straight as before.Run, run, my hoop, run,Away from the sun."And the great hoop bounds along the path,Leaping into the wind-bright air.Minna sings:"Turn, hoop,Burn hoop,Twist and twineHoop of mine.Flash along,Leap along,Right at the sun.Run, hoop, run.Faster and faster,Whirl, twirl.Wheel like fire,And spin like glass;Fire's no whiterGlass is no brighter.Dance,Prance,Over and over,About and about,With the top of you under,And the bottom at top,But never a stop.Turn about, hoop, to the tap of my stick,I follow behind youTo touch and remind you.Burn and glitter, so white and quick,Round and round, to the tap of a stick."The hoop flies along between the flower-beds,Swaying the flowers with the wind of its passing.Beside the foxglove-border roll the hoops,And the little pink and white bells shake and jingleUp and down their tall spires;They roll under the snow-ball bush,And the ground behind them is strewn with white petals12;They swirl13 round a corner,And jar a bee out of a Canterbury bell;They cast their shadows for an instantOver a bed of pansies,Catch against the spurs of a columbine,Jostle the quietness from a cluster of monk's-hood.Pat! Pat! behind them come the little criss-cross shoes,And the blue and pink sashes stream out in flappings of colour.Stella sings:"Hoop, hoop,Roll along,Faster bowl along,Hoop.Slow, to the turning,Now go! -- Go!Quick!Here's the stick.Rat-a-tap-tap it,Pat it, flap it.Fly like a bird or a yellow-backed bee,See how soon you can reach th
