Read it through once

His next visit was to the little girl from Akashi. He found her maids and page-boys playing New Year games on the mound in front of her windows, and pulling up the dwarf pine-trees, an occupation in which they seemed to take a boundless delight. The little princess’s rooms were full of sweetmeat boxes and hampers, all of them presents from her mother. To one toy, a little nightingale perched upon a sprig of the five-leafed pine, was fastened a plaintive message: ‘In _my_ home the nightingale’s voice I never hear, ...’[121] and with it the poem:—