LTTLE Hugh is awake at the breaking of day,  

And out in the sunny fields beaded with dew; 

Wherever I wander, I soon hear him say 

From somewhere behind, "Here is Hugh! 

Now where are you going? I want to go, too." 

At noon, when no bird can be heard in the tree, 

And the air is still as if wind never blew, 

As brisk as a little red squirrel is he; 

On the doorstep he cries,—"Here is Hugh! 

Now where shall we go? I am going with you! " 

If I hide by the side of a tumble-down wall, 

Or under a sweet-brier clump, out of view, 

Or deep in the meadow, his laugh and his call 

Ring close to my ear, "Here is Hugh! 

Wherever you go, I am going with you!" 

On the warm pasture-ground all around us, there grow 

Wild grasses, and blossoms so sweet! not a few; 

He runs hither and thither, with brown cheeks aglow, 

And a flower in his hand, "Here is Hugh! 

And oh! Here is something so pretty, for you!" 

We look into the sky, Hugh and I, and we trace 

In the clouds every moment a fantasy new, 

An angel, a lamb, or a soft baby-face,— 

And he says, "Stay till sunset! For Hugh 

Likes to look at the clouds and make pictures, with you." 

The still, lonely hillside before me lies green; 

It holds in its shadow a little lake blue; 

And a small, sunburnt boy always slips in between,

"With a dance and a shout, "Here is Hugh! 

You can't get away! Am going with you!" 

And the wish that I send, little friend, far away, 

Where you rove here and there in the prairie-lands new, 

Is that they whom you follow may not lead astray, 

When you trustingly call, "Here is Hugh! 

Wherever you go, I am going with you!" 

—Lucy Larcom.