Evolution of Expression Volume I Part 7

III.

I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles.

IV.

With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow.

V.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the br.i.m.m.i.n.g river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on for ever.

VI.

I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a l.u.s.ty trout, And here and there a grayling.

VII.

And here and there a foamy flake Upon me as I travel, With many a silvery water-break Above the golden gravel.

VIII.

I steal by lawns and gra.s.sy plots, I slide by hazel covers, I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers.

IX.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows.

X.

I murmur, under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses, I linger by my s.h.i.+ngly bars, I loiter round my cresses.

XI.

And out again I curve and flow To join the br.i.m.m.i.n.g river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

OLD AUNT MARY'S.

Wasn't it pleasant, O, brother mine, In those old days of the lost suns.h.i.+ne Of youth--when the Sat.u.r.day's ch.o.r.es were through, And the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen, too, And we went visiting, "me and you,"

Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

It all comes back so clear to-day!

Though I am as bald as you are gray-- Out by the barn-lot, and down the lane, We patter along in the dust again, As light as the tips of the drops of the rain, Out to Old Aunt Mary's!

We cross the pasture, and through the wood Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood, Where the hammering "red-heads" hopped awry, And the buzzard "raised" in the "clearing" sky, And lolled and circled, as we went by Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

And then in the dust of the road again; And the teams we met, and the countrymen; And the long highway, with suns.h.i.+ne spread As thick as b.u.t.ter on country bread, Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

Why, I see her now in the open door, Where the little gourds grew up the sides and o'er

The clapboard roof!--And her face--ah, me!

Wasn't it good for a boy to see Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

And, O, my brother, so far away, This is to tell you she waits to-day To welcome us:--Aunt Mary fell Asleep this morning, whispering, "Tell The boys to come!" And all is well Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY.

CHILD VERSE.

MY SHADOW.

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-- Not at all like proper children which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the s.h.i.+ning dew on every b.u.t.tercup; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me, and was fast asleep in bed.

THE SWING.

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 country side.

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!

THE LAMPLIGHTER.

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky; It's time to take the window to see Leerie going by; For every night at teatime and before you take your seat, With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.

Now Tom would be a driver, and Maria go to sea, And my papa's a banker and as rich as he can be; But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I'm to do, O Leerie, I'll go round at night and light the lamps with you!

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door, And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more; And Oh, before you hurry by with ladder and with light, O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

WAITING.

Serene, I fold my hands and wait, Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea; I rave no more 'gainst time or fate, For lo! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays, For what avails this eager pace?

I stand amid the eternal ways, And what is mine shall know my face,

Asleep, awake, by night or day, The friends I seek are seeking me; No wind can drive my bark astray, Nor change the tide of destiny.