A Child's Garden Of Verses - LightNovelsOnl.com
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HOW do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall, Till I can see so wide, Rivers and trees and cattle and all Over the countryside--
Till I look down on the garden green, Down on the roof so brown-- Up in the air I go flying again, Up in the air and down!
x.x.xIV
TIME TO RISE
A BIRDIE with a yellow bill Hopped upon the window sill, c.o.c.ked his s.h.i.+ning eye and said: 'Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head?'
x.x.xV
LOOKING-GLa.s.s RIVER
SMOOTH it slides upon its travel, Here a wimple, there a gleam-- O the clean gravel!
O the smooth stream!
Sailing blossoms, silver fishes, Paven pools as clear as air-- How a child wishes To live down there!
We can see our coloured faces Floating on the shaken pool Down in cool places, Dim and very cool;
Till a wind or water wrinkle, Dipping marten, plumping trout, Spreads in a twinkle And blots all out.
See the rings pursue each other; All below grows black as night, Just as if mother Had blown out the light!
Patience, children, just a minute-- See the spreading circles die; The stream and all in it Will clear by-and-by.
x.x.xVI
FAIRY BREAD
COME up here, O dusty feet!
Here is fairy bread to eat.
Here in my retiring room, Children, you may dine On the golden smell of broom And the shade of pine; And when you have eaten well, Fairy stories hear and tell.
x.x.xVII
FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE
FASTER than fairies, faster than witches, Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; And charging along like troops in a battle, All through the meadows the horses and cattle: All the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, All by himself and gathering brambles; Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone forever!
x.x.xVIII
WINTER-TIME
LATE lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the dark I rise; And s.h.i.+vering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit To warm my frozen bones a bit; Or with a reindeer-sled, explore The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap Me in my comforter and cap: The cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding-cake.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HAYLOFT
The mice that in these mountains dwell No happier are than I]
x.x.xIX
THE HAYLOFT
THROUGH all the pleasant meadow-side The gra.s.s grew shoulder-high, Till the s.h.i.+ning scythes went far and wide And cut it down to dry.
These green and sweetly smelling crops They led in waggons home; And they piled them here in mountain tops For mountaineers to roam.
Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail, Mount Eagle and Mount High;-- The mice that in these mountains dwell, No happier are than I!