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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 136 ***
+
+**********************************************************************
+THIS EBOOK WAS ONE OF PROJECT GUTENBERG'S EARLY FILES PRODUCED AT A
+TIME WHEN PROOFING METHODS AND TOOLS WERE NOT WELL DEVELOPED. THERE IS
+AN IMPROVED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY BE VIEWED AT EBOOK (#28722)
+**********************************************************************
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A Child's Garden of Verses
+
+by
+
+Robert Louis Stevenson
+
+
+
+
+ To Alison Cunningham
+
+ From Her Boy
+
+
+ For the long nights you lay awake
+ And watched for my unworthy sake:
+ For your most comfortable hand
+ That led me through the uneven land:
+ For all the story-books you read:
+ For all the pains you comforted:
+
+ For all you pitied, all you bore,
+ In sad and happy days of yore:--
+ My second Mother, my first Wife,
+ The angel of my infant life--
+ From the sick child, now well and old,
+ Take, nurse, the little book you hold!
+
+ And grant it, Heaven, that all who read
+ May find as dear a nurse at need,
+ And every child who lists my rhyme,
+ In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
+ May hear it in as kind a voice
+ As made my childish days rejoice!
+
+ R. L. S.
+
+
+
+
+ Contents
+
+ To Alison Cunningham
+
+ I Bed in Summer
+ II A Thought
+ III At the Sea-Side
+ IV Young Night-Thought
+ V Whole Duty of Children
+ VI Rain
+ VII Pirate Story
+ VIII Foreign Lands
+ IX Windy Nights
+ X Travel
+ XI Singing
+ XII Looking Forward
+ XIII A Good Play
+ XIV Where Go the Boats?
+ XV Auntie's Skirts
+ XVI The Land of Counterpane
+ XVII The Land of Nod
+ XVIII My Shadow
+ XIX System
+ XX A Good Boy
+ XXI Escape at Bedtime
+ XXII Marching Song
+ XXIII The Cow
+ XXIV The Happy Thought
+ XXV The Wind
+ XXVI Keepsake Mill
+ XXVII Good and Bad Children
+ XXVIII Foreign Children
+ XXIX The Sun Travels
+ XXX The Lamplighter
+ XXXI My Bed is a Boat
+ XXXII The Moon
+ XXXIII The Swing
+ XXXIV Time to Rise
+ XXXV Looking-Glass River
+ XXXVI Fairy Bread
+ XXXVII From a Railway Carriage
+ XXXVIII Winter-Time
+ XXXIX The Hayloft
+ XL Farewell to the Farm
+ XLI North-West Passage
+ 1. Good-Night
+ 2. Shadow March
+ 3. In Port
+
+
+
+
+ The Child Alone
+
+ I The Unseen Playmate
+ II My Ship and I
+ III My Kingdom
+ IV Picture-Books in Winter
+ V My Treasures
+ VI Block City
+ VII The Land of Story-Books
+ VIII Armies in the Fire
+ IX The Little Land
+
+
+
+
+ Garden Days
+
+ I Night and Day
+ II Nest Eggs
+ III The Flowers
+ IV Summer Sun
+ V The Dumb Soldier
+ VI Autumn Fires
+ VII The Gardener
+ VIII Historical Associations
+
+
+ Envoys
+
+ I To Willie and Henrietta
+ II To My Mother
+ III To Auntie
+ IV To Minnie
+ V To My Name-Child
+ VI To Any Reader
+
+
+
+ A Child's Garden of Verses
+
+
+
+ I
+ Bed in Summer
+
+ In winter I get up at night
+ And dress by yellow candle-light.
+ In summer quite the other way,
+ I have to go to bed by day.
+
+ I have to go to bed and see
+ The birds still hopping on the tree,
+ Or hear the grown-up people's feet
+ Still going past me in the street.
+
+ And does it not seem hard to you,
+ When all the sky is clear and blue,
+ And I should like so much to play,
+ To have to go to bed by day?
+
+ II
+ A Thought
+
+ It is very nice to think
+ The world is full of meat and drink,
+ With little children saying grace
+ In every Christian kind of place.
+
+
+ III
+ At the Sea-Side
+
+ When I was down beside the sea
+ A wooden spade they gave to me
+ To dig the sandy shore.
+
+ My holes were empty like a cup.
+ In every hole the sea came up,
+ Till it could come no more.
+
+
+ IV
+ Young Night-Thought
+
+ All night long and every night,
+ When my mama puts out the light,
+ I see the people marching by,
+ As plain as day before my eye.
+
+ Armies and emperor and kings,
+ All carrying different kinds of things,
+ And marching in so grand a way,
+ You never saw the like by day.
+
+ So fine a show was never seen
+ At the great circus on the green;
+ For every kind of beast and man
+ Is marching in that caravan.
+
+ As first they move a little slow,
+ But still the faster on they go,
+ And still beside me close I keep
+ Until we reach the town of Sleep.
+
+
+ V
+ Whole Duty of Children
+
+ A child should always say what's true
+ And speak when he is spoken to,
+ And behave mannerly at table;
+ At least as far as he is able.
+
+
+ VI
+ Rain
+
+ The rain is falling all around,
+ It falls on field and tree,
+ It rains on the umbrellas here,
+ And on the ships at sea.
+
+
+ VII
+ Pirate Story
+
+ Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,
+ Three of us abroad in the basket on the lea.
+ Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
+ And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.
+
+ Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
+ Wary of the weather and steering by a star?
+ Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
+ To Providence, or Babylon or off to Malabar?
+
+ Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea--
+ Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!
+ Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,
+ The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.
+
+
+ VIII
+ Foreign Lands
+
+ Up into the cherry tree
+ Who should climb but little me?
+ I held the trunk with both my hands
+ And looked abroad in foreign lands.
+
+ I saw the next door garden lie,
+ Adorned with flowers, before my eye,
+ And many pleasant places more
+ That I had never seen before.
+
+ I saw the dimpling river pass
+ And be the sky's blue looking-glass;
+ The dusty roads go up and down
+ With people tramping in to town.
+
+ If I could find a higher tree
+ Farther and farther I should see,
+ To where the grown-up river slips
+ Into the sea among the ships,
+
+ To where the roads on either hand
+ Lead onward into fairy land,
+ Where all the children dine at five,
+ And all the playthings come alive.
+
+ IX
+ Windy Nights
+
+ Whenever the moon and stars are set,
+ Whenever the wind is high,
+ All night long in the dark and wet,
+ A man goes riding by.
+ Late in the night when the fires are out,
+ Why does he gallop and gallop about?
+
+ Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
+ And ships are tossed at sea,
+ By, on the highway, low and loud,
+ By at the gallop goes he.
+ By at the gallop he goes, and then
+ By he comes back at the gallop again.
+
+
+ X
+ Travel
+
+ I should like to rise and go
+ Where the golden apples grow;--
+ Where below another sky
+ Parrot islands anchored lie,
+ And, watched by cockatoos and goats,
+ Lonely Crusoes building boats;--
+ Where in sunshine reaching out
+ Eastern cities, miles about,
+ Are with mosque and minaret
+ Among sandy gardens set,
+ And the rich goods from near and far
+ Hang for sale in the bazaar;--
+ Where the Great Wall round China goes,
+ And on one side the desert blows,
+ And with the voice and bell and drum,
+ Cities on the other hum;--
+ Where are forests hot as fire,
+ Wide as England, tall as a spire,
+ Full of apes and cocoa-nuts
+ And the negro hunters' huts;--
+ Where the knotty crocodile
+ Lies and blinks in the Nile,
+ And the red flamingo flies
+ Hunting fish before his eyes;--
+ Where in jungles near and far,
+ Man-devouring tigers are,
+ Lying close and giving ear
+ Lest the hunt be drawing near,
+ Or a comer-by be seen
+ Swinging in the palanquin;--
+ Where among the desert sands
+ Some deserted city stands,
+ All its children, sweep and prince,
+ Grown to manhood ages since,
+ Not a foot in street or house,
+ Not a stir of child or mouse,
+ And when kindly falls the night,
+ In all the town no spark of light.
+ There I'll come when I'm a man
+ With a camel caravan;
+ Light a fire in the gloom
+ Of some dusty dining room;
+ See the pictures on the walls,
+ Heroes, fights and festivals;
+ And in a corner find the toys
+ Of the old Egyptian boys.
+
+
+ XI
+ Singing
+
+ Of speckled eggs the birdie sings
+ And nests among the trees;
+ The sailor sings of ropes and things
+ In ships upon the seas.
+
+ The children sing in far Japan,
+ The children sing in Spain;
+ The organ with the organ man
+ Is singing in the rain.
+
+
+ XII
+ Looking Forward
+
+ When I am grown to man's estate
+ I shall be very proud and great,
+ And tell the other girls and boys
+ Not to meddle with my toys.
+
+
+ XIII
+ A Good Play
+
+ We built a ship upon the stairs
+ All made of the back-bedroom chairs,
+ And filled it full of sofa pillows
+ To go a-sailing on the billows.
+
+ We took a saw and several nails,
+ And water in the nursery pails;
+ And Tom said, "Let us also take
+ An apple and a slice of cake;"--
+ Which was enough for Tom and me
+ To go a-sailing on, till tea.
+
+ We sailed along for days and days,
+ And had the very best of plays;
+ But Tom fell out and hurt his knee,
+ So there was no one left but me.
+
+ XIV
+ Where Go the Boats?
+
+ Dark brown is the river,
+ Golden is the sand.
+ It flows along for ever,
+ With trees on either hand.
+
+ Green leaves a-floating,
+ Castles of the foam,
+ Boats of mine a-boating--
+ Where will all come home?
+
+ On goes the river
+ And out past the mill,
+ Away down the valley,
+ Away down the hill.
+
+ Away down the river,
+ A hundred miles or more,
+ Other little children
+ Shall bring my boats ashore.
+
+
+ XV
+ Auntie's Skirts
+
+ Whenever Auntie moves around,
+ Her dresses make a curious sound,
+ They trail behind her up the floor,
+ And trundle after through the door.
+
+
+ XVI
+ The Land of Counterpane
+
+ When I was sick and lay a-bed,
+ I had two pillows at my head,
+ And all my toys beside me lay,
+ To keep me happy all the day.
+
+ And sometimes for an hour or so
+ I watched my leaden soldiers go,
+ With different uniforms and drills,
+ Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;
+
+ And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
+ All up and down among the sheets;
+ Or brought my trees and houses out,
+ And planted cities all about.
+
+ I was the giant great and still
+ That sits upon the pillow-hill,
+ And sees before him, dale and plain,
+ The pleasant land of counterpane.
+
+
+ XVII
+ The Land of Nod
+
+ From breakfast on through all the day
+ At home among my friends I stay,
+ But every night I go abroad
+ Afar into the land of Nod.
+
+ All by myself I have to go,
+ With none to tell me what to do--
+ All alone beside the streams
+ And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
+
+ The strangest things are these for me,
+ Both things to eat and things to see,
+ And many frightening sights abroad
+ Till morning in the land of Nod.
+
+ Try as I like to find the way,
+ I never can get back by day,
+ Nor can remember plain and clear
+ The curious music that I hear.
+
+
+ XVIII
+ 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 goes 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 behind 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 shining dew on every buttercup;
+ But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
+ Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
+
+
+ XIX
+ System
+
+ Every night my prayers I say,
+ And get my dinner every day;
+ And every day that I've been good,
+ I get an orange after food.
+
+ The child that is not clean and neat,
+ With lots of toys and things to eat,
+ He is a naughty child, I'm sure--
+ Or else his dear papa is poor.
+
+
+ XX
+ A Good Boy
+
+ I woke before the morning, I was happy all the day,
+ I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play.
+
+ And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood,
+ And I am very happy, for I know that I've been good.
+
+ My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen smooth and fair,
+ And I must be off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my prayer.
+
+ I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun arise,
+ No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly sight my eyes.
+
+ But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn,
+ And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn.
+
+
+ XXI
+ Escape at Bedtime
+
+ The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out
+ Through the blinds and the windows and bars;
+ And high overhead and all moving about,
+ There were thousands of millions of stars.
+ There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a tree,
+ Nor of people in church or the Park,
+ As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me,
+ And that glittered and winked in the dark.
+
+ The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all,
+ And the star of the sailor, and Mars,
+ These shown in the sky, and the pail by the wall
+ Would be half full of water and stars.
+ They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries,
+ And they soon had me packed into bed;
+ But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes,
+ And the stars going round in my head.
+
+
+ XXII
+ Marching Song
+
+ Bring the comb and play upon it!
+ Marching, here we come!
+ Willie cocks his highland bonnet,
+ Johnnie beats the drum.
+
+ Mary Jane commands the party,
+ Peter leads the rear;
+ Feet in time, alert and hearty,
+ Each a Grenadier!
+
+ All in the most martial manner
+ Marching double-quick;
+ While the napkin, like a banner,
+ Waves upon the stick!
+
+ Here's enough of fame and pillage,
+ Great commander Jane!
+ Now that we've been round the village,
+ Let's go home again.
+
+
+ XXIII
+ The Cow
+
+ The friendly cow all red and white,
+ I love with all my heart:
+ She gives me cream with all her might,
+ To eat with apple-tart.
+
+ She wanders lowing here and there,
+ And yet she cannot stray,
+ All in the pleasant open air,
+ The pleasant light of day;
+
+ And blown by all the winds that pass
+ And wet with all the showers,
+ She walks among the meadow grass
+ And eats the meadow flowers.
+
+
+ XXIV
+ Happy Thought
+
+ The world is so full of a number of things,
+ I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.
+
+
+ XXV
+ The Wind
+
+ I saw you toss the kites on high
+ And blow the birds about the sky;
+ And all around I heard you pass,
+ Like ladies' skirts across the grass--
+ O wind, a-blowing all day long,
+ O wind, that sings so loud a song!
+
+ I saw the different things you did,
+ But always you yourself you hid.
+ I felt you push, I heard you call,
+ I could not see yourself at all--
+ O wind, a-blowing all day long,
+ O wind, that sings so loud a song!
+
+ O you that are so strong and cold,
+ O blower, are you young or old?
+ Are you a beast of field and tree,
+ Or just a stronger child than me?
+ O wind, a-blowing all day long,
+ O wind, that sings so loud a song!
+
+
+ XXVI
+ Keepsake Mill
+
+ Over the borders, a sin without pardon,
+ Breaking the branches and crawling below,
+ Out through the breach in the wall of the garden,
+ Down by the banks of the river we go.
+
+ Here is a mill with the humming of thunder,
+ Here is the weir with the wonder of foam,
+ Here is the sluice with the race running under--
+ Marvellous places, though handy to home!
+
+ Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller,
+ Stiller the note of the birds on the hill;
+ Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller,
+ Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill.
+
+ Years may go by, and the wheel in the river
+ Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day,
+ Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever
+ Long after all of the boys are away.
+
+ Home for the Indies and home from the ocean,
+ Heroes and soldiers we all will come home;
+ Still we shall find the old mill wheel in motion,
+ Turning and churning that river to foam.
+
+ You with the bean that I gave when we quarrelled,
+ I with your marble of Saturday last,
+ Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled,
+ Here we shall meet and remember the past.
+
+
+ XXVII
+ Good and Bad Children
+
+ Children, you are very little,
+ And your bones are very brittle;
+ If you would grow great and stately,
+ You must try to walk sedately.
+
+ You must still be bright and quiet,
+ And content with simple diet;
+ And remain, through all bewild'ring,
+ Innocent and honest children.
+
+ Happy hearts and happy faces,
+ Happy play in grassy places--
+ That was how in ancient ages,
+ Children grew to kings and sages.
+
+ But the unkind and the unruly,
+ And the sort who eat unduly,
+ They must never hope for glory--
+ Theirs is quite a different story!
+
+ Cruel children, crying babies,
+ All grow up as geese and gabies,
+ Hated, as their age increases,
+ By their nephews and their nieces.
+
+
+ XXVIII
+ Foreign Children
+
+ Little Indian, Sioux, or Crow,
+ Little frosty Eskimo,
+ Little Turk or Japanee,
+ Oh! don't you wish that you were me?
+
+ You have seen the scarlet trees
+ And the lions over seas;
+ You have eaten ostrich eggs,
+ And turned the turtles off their legs.
+
+ Such a life is very fine,
+ But it's not so nice as mine:
+ You must often as you trod,
+ Have wearied NOT to be abroad.
+
+ You have curious things to eat,
+ I am fed on proper meat;
+ You must dwell upon the foam,
+ But I am safe and live at home.
+ Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,
+ Little frosty Eskimo,
+ Little Turk or Japanee,
+ Oh! don't you wish that you were me?
+
+
+ XXIX
+ The Sun Travels
+
+ The sun is not a-bed, when I
+ At night upon my pillow lie;
+ Still round the earth his way he takes,
+ And morning after morning makes.
+
+ While here at home, in shining day,
+ We round the sunny garden play,
+ Each little Indian sleepy-head
+ Is being kissed and put to bed.
+
+ And when at eve I rise from tea,
+ Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea;
+ And all the children in the west
+ Are getting up and being dressed.
+
+
+ XXX
+ 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!
+
+
+ XXXI
+ My Bed is a Boat
+
+ My bed is like a little boat;
+ Nurse helps me in when I embark;
+ She girds me in my sailor's coat
+ And starts me in the dark.
+
+ At night I go on board and say
+ Good-night to all my friends on shore;
+ I shut my eyes and sail away
+ And see and hear no more.
+
+ And sometimes things to bed I take,
+ As prudent sailors have to do;
+ Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,
+ Perhaps a toy or two.
+
+ All night across the dark we steer;
+ But when the day returns at last,
+ Safe in my room beside the pier,
+ I find my vessel fast.
+
+
+ XXXII
+ The Moon
+
+ The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;
+ She shines on thieves on the garden wall,
+ On streets and fields and harbour quays,
+ And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.
+
+ The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,
+ The howling dog by the door of the house,
+ The bat that lies in bed at noon,
+ All love to be out by the light of the moon.
+
+ But all of the things that belong to the day
+ Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;
+ And flowers and children close their eyes
+ Till up in the morning the sun shall arise.
+
+
+ XXXIII
+ 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,
+ River 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!
+
+
+ XXXIV
+ Time to Rise
+
+ A birdie with a yellow bill
+ Hopped upon my window sill,
+ Cocked his shining eye and said:
+ "Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head!"
+
+
+ XXXV
+ Looking-Glass River
+
+ Smooth it glides 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 colored 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.
+
+
+ XXXVI
+ 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.
+
+
+ XXXVII
+ 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 of 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 here 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!
+
+ XXXVIII
+ 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 shivering 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.
+
+
+ XXXIX
+ The Hayloft
+
+ Through all the pleasant meadow-side
+ The grass grew shoulder-high,
+ Till the shining scythes went far and wide
+ And cut it down to dry.
+
+ Those 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!
+
+ Oh, what a joy to clamber there,
+ Oh, what a place for play,
+ With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air,
+ The happy hills of hay!
+
+
+ XL
+ Farewell to the Farm
+
+ The coach is at the door at last;
+ The eager children, mounting fast
+ And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
+ Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!
+
+ To house and garden, field and lawn,
+ The meadow-gates we swang upon,
+ To pump and stable, tree and swing,
+ Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!
+
+ And fare you well for evermore,
+ O ladder at the hayloft door,
+ O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,
+ Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!
+
+ Crack goes the whip, and off we go;
+ The trees and houses smaller grow;
+ Last, round the woody turn we sing:
+ Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!
+
+
+ XLI
+ North-West Passage
+
+ 1. Good-Night
+
+ When the bright lamp is carried in,
+ The sunless hours again begin;
+ O'er all without, in field and lane,
+ The haunted night returns again.
+
+ Now we behold the embers flee
+ About the firelit hearth; and see
+ Our faces painted as we pass,
+ Like pictures, on the window glass.
+
+ Must we to bed indeed? Well then,
+ Let us arise and go like men,
+ And face with an undaunted tread
+ The long black passage up to bed.
+
+ Farewell, O brother, sister, sire!
+ O pleasant party round the fire!
+ The songs you sing, the tales you tell,
+ Till far to-morrow, fare you well!
+
+
+ 2. Shadow March
+
+ All around the house is the jet-black night;
+ It stares through the window-pane;
+ It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,
+ And it moves with the moving flame.
+
+ Now my little heart goes a beating like a drum,
+ With the breath of the Bogies in my hair;
+ And all around the candle the crooked shadows come,
+ And go marching along up the stair.
+
+ The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,
+ The shadow of the child that goes to bed--
+ All the wicked shadows coming tramp, tramp, tramp,
+ With the black night overhead.
+
+
+ 3. In Port
+
+ Last, to the chamber where I lie
+ My fearful footsteps patter nigh,
+ And come out from the cold and gloom
+ Into my warm and cheerful room.
+
+ There, safe arrived, we turn about
+ To keep the coming shadows out,
+ And close the happy door at last
+ On all the perils that we past.
+
+ Then, when mamma goes by to bed,
+ She shall come in with tip-toe tread,
+ And see me lying warm and fast
+ And in the land of Nod at last.
+
+
+
+
+ THE CHILD ALONE
+
+
+ I
+ The Unseen Playmate
+
+ When children are playing alone on the green,
+ In comes the playmate that never was seen.
+ When children are happy and lonely and good,
+ The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.
+
+ Nobody heard him, and nobody saw,
+ His is a picture you never could draw,
+ But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,
+ When children are happy and playing alone.
+
+ He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,
+ He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;
+ Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why,
+ The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!
+
+ He loves to be little, he hates to be big,
+ 'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig;
+ 'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of tin
+ That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.
+
+ 'Tis he, when at night you go off to your bed,
+ Bids you go to sleep and not trouble your head;
+ For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf,
+ 'Tis he will take care of your playthings himself!
+
+
+ II
+ My Ship and I
+
+ O it's I that am the captain of a tidy little ship,
+ Of a ship that goes a sailing on the pond;
+ And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all about;
+ But when I'm a little older, I shall find the secret out
+ How to send my vessel sailing on beyond.
+
+ For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at the helm,
+ And the dolly I intend to come alive;
+ And with him beside to help me, it's a-sailing I shall go,
+ It's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes blow
+ And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive.
+
+ O it's then you'll see me sailing through the rushes and the reeds,
+ And you'll hear the water singing at the prow;
+ For beside the dolly sailor, I'm to voyage and explore,
+ To land upon the island where no dolly was before,
+ And to fire the penny cannon in the bow.
+
+
+ III
+ My Kingdom
+
+ Down by a shining water well
+ I found a very little dell,
+ No higher than my head.
+ The heather and the gorse about
+ In summer bloom were coming out,
+ Some yellow and some red.
+
+ I called the little pool a sea;
+ The little hills were big to me;
+ For I am very small.
+ I made a boat, I made a town,
+ I searched the caverns up and down,
+ And named them one and all.
+
+ And all about was mine, I said,
+ The little sparrows overhead,
+ The little minnows too.
+ This was the world and I was king;
+ For me the bees came by to sing,
+ For me the swallows flew.
+
+ I played there were no deeper seas,
+ Nor any wider plains than these,
+ Nor other kings than me.
+ At last I heard my mother call
+ Out from the house at evenfall,
+ To call me home to tea.
+
+ And I must rise and leave my dell,
+ And leave my dimpled water well,
+ And leave my heather blooms.
+ Alas! and as my home I neared,
+ How very big my nurse appeared.
+ How great and cool the rooms!
+
+
+ IV
+ Picture-Books in Winter
+
+ Summer fading, winter comes--
+ Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
+ Window robins, winter rooks,
+ And the picture story-books.
+
+ Water now is turned to stone
+ Nurse and I can walk upon;
+ Still we find the flowing brooks
+ In the picture story-books.
+
+ All the pretty things put by,
+ Wait upon the children's eye,
+ Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
+ In the picture story-books.
+
+ We may see how all things are
+ Seas and cities, near and far,
+ And the flying fairies' looks,
+ In the picture story-books.
+
+ How am I to sing your praise,
+ Happy chimney-corner days,
+ Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
+ Reading picture story-books?
+
+
+ V
+ My Treasures
+
+ These nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest,
+ Where all my tin soldiers are lying at rest,
+ Were gathered in Autumn by nursie and me
+ In a wood with a well by the side of the sea.
+
+ This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds!)
+ By the side of a field at the end of the grounds.
+ Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my own,
+ It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone!
+
+ The stone, with the white and the yellow and grey,
+ We discovered I cannot tell HOW far away;
+ And I carried it back although weary and cold,
+ For though father denies it, I'm sure it is gold.
+
+ But of all my treasures the last is the king,
+ For there's very few children possess such a thing;
+ And that is a chisel, both handle and blade,
+ Which a man who was really a carpenter made.
+
+
+ VI
+ Block City
+
+ What are you able to build with your blocks?
+ Castles and palaces, temples and docks.
+ Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,
+ But I can be happy and building at home.
+
+ Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea,
+ There I'll establish a city for me:
+ A kirk and a mill and a palace beside,
+ And a harbour as well where my vessels may ride.
+
+ Great is the palace with pillar and wall,
+ A sort of a tower on the top of it all,
+ And steps coming down in an orderly way
+ To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay.
+
+ This one is sailing and that one is moored:
+ Hark to the song of the sailors aboard!
+ And see, on the steps of my palace, the kings
+ Coming and going with presents and things!
+
+ Now I have done with it, down let it go!
+ All in a moment the town is laid low.
+ Block upon block lying scattered and free,
+ What is there left of my town by the sea?
+
+ Yet as I saw it, I see it again,
+ The kirk and the palace, the ships and the men,
+ And as long as I live and where'er I may be,
+ I'll always remember my town by the sea.
+
+
+ VII
+ The Land of Story-Books
+
+ At evening when the lamp is lit,
+ Around the fire my parents sit;
+ They sit at home and talk and sing,
+ And do not play at anything.
+
+ Now, with my little gun, I crawl
+ All in the dark along the wall,
+ And follow round the forest track
+ Away behind the sofa back.
+
+ There, in the night, where none can spy,
+ All in my hunter's camp I lie,
+ And play at books that I have read
+ Till it is time to go to bed.
+
+ These are the hills, these are the woods,
+ These are my starry solitudes;
+ And there the river by whose brink
+ The roaring lions come to drink.
+
+ I see the others far away
+ As if in firelit camp they lay,
+ And I, like to an Indian scout,
+ Around their party prowled about.
+
+ So when my nurse comes in for me,
+ Home I return across the sea,
+ And go to bed with backward looks
+ At my dear land of Story-books.
+
+
+ VIII
+ Armies in the Fire
+
+ The lamps now glitter down the street;
+ Faintly sound the falling feet;
+ And the blue even slowly falls
+ About the garden trees and walls.
+
+ Now in the falling of the gloom
+ The red fire paints the empty room:
+ And warmly on the roof it looks,
+ And flickers on the back of books.
+
+ Armies march by tower and spire
+ Of cities blazing, in the fire;--
+ Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
+ The armies fade, the lustre dies.
+
+ Then once again the glow returns;
+ Again the phantom city burns;
+ And down the red-hot valley, lo!
+ The phantom armies marching go!
+
+ Blinking embers, tell me true
+ Where are those armies marching to,
+ And what the burning city is
+ That crumbles in your furnaces!
+
+
+ IX
+ The Little Land
+
+ When at home alone I sit
+ And am very tired of it,
+ I have just to shut my eyes
+ To go sailing through the skies--
+ To go sailing far away
+ To the pleasant Land of Play;
+ To the fairy land afar
+ Where the Little People are;
+ Where the clover-tops are trees,
+ And the rain-pools are the seas,
+ And the leaves, like little ships,
+ Sail about on tiny trips;
+ And above the Daisy tree
+ Through the grasses,
+ High o'erhead the Bumble Bee
+ Hums and passes.
+
+ In that forest to and fro
+ I can wander, I can go;
+ See the spider and the fly,
+ And the ants go marching by,
+ Carrying parcels with their feet
+ Down the green and grassy street.
+ I can in the sorrel sit
+ Where the ladybird alit.
+ I can climb the jointed grass
+ And on high
+ See the greater swallows pass
+ In the sky,
+ And the round sun rolling by
+ Heeding no such things as I.
+
+ Through that forest I can pass
+ Till, as in a looking-glass,
+ Humming fly and daisy tree
+ And my tiny self I see,
+ Painted very clear and neat
+ On the rain-pool at my feet.
+ Should a leaflet come to land
+ Drifting near to where I stand,
+ Straight I'll board that tiny boat
+ Round the rain-pool sea to float.
+
+ Little thoughtful creatures sit
+ On the grassy coasts of it;
+ Little things with lovely eyes
+ See me sailing with surprise.
+ Some are clad in armour green--
+ (These have sure to battle been!)--
+ Some are pied with ev'ry hue,
+ Black and crimson, gold and blue;
+ Some have wings and swift are gone;--
+ But they all look kindly on.
+
+ When my eyes I once again
+ Open, and see all things plain:
+ High bare walls, great bare floor;
+ Great big knobs on drawer and door;
+ Great big people perched on chairs,
+ Stitching tucks and mending tears,
+ Each a hill that I could climb,
+ And talking nonsense all the time--
+ O dear me,
+ That I could be
+ A sailor on a the rain-pool sea,
+ A climber in the clover tree,
+ And just come back a sleepy-head,
+ Late at night to go to bed.
+
+
+
+
+ Garden Days
+
+
+ I
+ Night and Day
+
+ When the golden day is done,
+ Through the closing portal,
+ Child and garden, flower and sun,
+ Vanish all things mortal.
+
+ As the building shadows fall
+ As the rays diminish,
+ Under evening's cloak they all
+ Roll away and vanish.
+
+ Garden darkened, daisy shut,
+ Child in bed, they slumber--
+ Glow-worm in the hallway rut,
+ Mice among the lumber.
+
+ In the darkness houses shine,
+ Parents move the candles;
+ Till on all the night divine
+ Turns the bedroom handles.
+
+ Till at last the day begins
+ In the east a-breaking,
+ In the hedges and the whins
+ Sleeping birds a-waking.
+
+ In the darkness shapes of things,
+ Houses, trees and hedges,
+ Clearer grow; and sparrow's wings
+ Beat on window ledges.
+
+ These shall wake the yawning maid;
+ She the door shall open--
+ Finding dew on garden glade
+ And the morning broken.
+
+ There my garden grows again
+ Green and rosy painted,
+ As at eve behind the pane
+ From my eyes it fainted.
+
+ Just as it was shut away,
+ Toy-like, in the even,
+ Here I see it glow with day
+ Under glowing heaven.
+
+ Every path and every plot,
+ Every blush of roses,
+ Every blue forget-me-not
+ Where the dew reposes,
+
+ "Up!" they cry, "the day is come
+ On the smiling valleys:
+ We have beat the morning drum;
+ Playmate, join your allies!"
+
+
+ II
+ Nest Eggs
+
+ Birds all the sunny day
+ Flutter and quarrel
+ Here in the arbour-like
+ Tent of the laurel.
+
+ Here in the fork
+ The brown nest is seated;
+ Four little blue eggs
+ The mother keeps heated.
+
+ While we stand watching her
+ Staring like gabies,
+ Safe in each egg are the
+ Bird's little babies.
+
+ Soon the frail eggs they shall
+ Chip, and upspringing
+ Make all the April woods
+ Merry with singing.
+
+ Younger than we are,
+ O children, and frailer,
+ Soon in the blue air they'll be,
+ Singer and sailor.
+
+ We, so much older,
+ Taller and stronger,
+ We shall look down on the
+ Birdies no longer.
+
+ They shall go flying
+ With musical speeches
+ High overhead in the
+ Tops of the beeches.
+
+ In spite of our wisdom
+ And sensible talking,
+ We on our feet must go
+ Plodding and walking.
+
+ III
+ The Flowers
+
+ All the names I know from nurse:
+ Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,
+ Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,
+ And the Lady Hollyhock.
+
+ Fairy places, fairy things,
+ Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,
+ Tiny trees for tiny dames--
+ These must all be fairy names!
+
+ Tiny woods below whose boughs
+ Shady fairies weave a house;
+ Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,
+ Where the braver fairies climb!
+
+ Fair are grown-up people's trees,
+ But the fairest woods are these;
+ Where, if I were not so tall,
+ I should live for good and all.
+
+
+ IV
+ Summer Sun
+
+ Great is the sun, and wide he goes
+ Through empty heaven with repose;
+ And in the blue and glowing days
+ More thick than rain he showers his rays.
+
+ Though closer still the blinds we pull
+ To keep the shady parlour cool,
+ Yet he will find a chink or two
+ To slip his golden fingers through.
+
+ The dusty attic spider-clad
+ He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
+ And through the broken edge of tiles
+ Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
+
+ Meantime his golden face around
+ He bares to all the garden ground,
+ And sheds a warm and glittering look
+ Among the ivy's inmost nook.
+
+ Above the hills, along the blue,
+ Round the bright air with footing true,
+ To please the child, to paint the rose,
+ The gardener of the World, he goes.
+
+
+ V
+ The Dumb Soldier
+ When the grass was closely mown,
+ Walking on the lawn alone,
+ In the turf a hole I found,
+ And hid a soldier underground.
+
+ Spring and daisies came apace;
+ Grasses hide my hiding place;
+ Grasses run like a green sea
+ O'er the lawn up to my knee.
+
+ Under grass alone he lies,
+ Looking up with leaden eyes,
+ Scarlet coat and pointed gun,
+ To the stars and to the sun.
+
+ When the grass is ripe like grain,
+ When the scythe is stoned again,
+ When the lawn is shaven clear,
+ Then my hole shall reappear.
+
+ I shall find him, never fear,
+ I shall find my grenadier;
+ But for all that's gone and come,
+ I shall find my soldier dumb.
+
+ He has lived, a little thing,
+ In the grassy woods of spring;
+ Done, if he could tell me true,
+ Just as I should like to do.
+
+ He has seen the starry hours
+ And the springing of the flowers;
+ And the fairy things that pass
+ In the forests of the grass.
+
+ In the silence he has heard
+ Talking bee and ladybird,
+ And the butterfly has flown
+ O'er him as he lay alone.
+
+ Not a word will he disclose,
+ Not a word of all he knows.
+ I must lay him on the shelf,
+ And make up the tale myself.
+
+
+ VI
+ Autumn Fires
+
+ In the other gardens
+ And all up the vale,
+ From the autumn bonfires
+ See the smoke trail!
+
+ Pleasant summer over
+ And all the summer flowers,
+ The red fire blazes,
+ The grey smoke towers.
+
+ Sing a song of seasons!
+ Something bright in all!
+ Flowers in the summer,
+ Fires in the fall!
+
+
+ VII
+ The Gardener
+
+ The gardener does not love to talk.
+ He makes me keep the gravel walk;
+ And when he puts his tools away,
+ He locks the door and takes the key.
+
+ Away behind the currant row,
+ Where no one else but cook may go,
+ Far in the plots, I see him dig,
+ Old and serious, brown and big.
+
+ He digs the flowers, green, red, and blue,
+ Nor wishes to be spoken to.
+ He digs the flowers and cuts the hay,
+ And never seems to want to play.
+
+ Silly gardener! summer goes,
+ And winter comes with pinching toes,
+ When in the garden bare and brown
+ You must lay your barrow down.
+
+ Well now, and while the summer stays,
+ To profit by these garden days
+ O how much wiser you would be
+ To play at Indian wars with me!
+
+
+ VIII
+ Historical Associations
+
+ Dear Uncle Jim, this garden ground
+ That now you smoke your pipe around,
+ Has seen immortal actions done
+ And valiant battles lost and won.
+
+ Here we had best on tip-toe tread,
+ While I for safety march ahead,
+ For this is that enchanted ground
+ Where all who loiter slumber sound.
+
+ Here is the sea, here is the sand,
+ Here is simple Shepherd's Land,
+ Here are the fairy hollyhocks,
+ And there are Ali Baba's rocks.
+
+ But yonder, see! apart and high,
+ Frozen Siberia lies; where I,
+ With Robert Bruce and William Tell,
+ Was bound by an enchanter's spell.
+
+
+
+
+ ENVOYS
+
+
+ I
+ To Willie and Henrietta
+
+ If two may read aright
+ These rhymes of old delight
+ And house and garden play,
+ You two, my cousins, and you only, may.
+
+ You in a garden green
+ With me were king and queen,
+ Were hunter, soldier, tar,
+ And all the thousand things that children are.
+
+ Now in the elders' seat
+ We rest with quiet feet,
+ And from the window-bay
+ We watch the children, our successors, play.
+
+ "Time was," the golden head
+ Irrevocably said;
+ But time which one can bind,
+ While flowing fast away, leaves love behind.
+
+
+ II
+ To My Mother
+
+ You too, my mother, read my rhymes
+ For love of unforgotten times,
+ And you may chance to hear once more
+ The little feet along the floor.
+
+
+ III
+ To Auntie
+
+ "Chief of our aunts"--not only I,
+ But all your dozen of nurselings cry--
+ "What did the other children do?
+ And what were childhood, wanting you?"
+
+
+ IV
+ To Minnie
+ The red room with the giant bed
+ Where none but elders laid their head;
+ The little room where you and I
+ Did for awhile together lie
+ And, simple suitor, I your hand
+ In decent marriage did demand;
+ The great day nursery, best of all,
+ With pictures pasted on the wall
+ And leaves upon the blind--
+ A pleasant room wherein to wake
+ And hear the leafy garden shake
+ And rustle in the wind--
+ And pleasant there to lie in bed
+ And see the pictures overhead--
+ The wars about Sebastopol,
+ The grinning guns along the wall,
+ The daring escalade,
+ The plunging ships, the bleating sheep,
+ The happy children ankle-deep
+ And laughing as they wade:
+ All these are vanished clean away,
+ And the old manse is changed to-day;
+ It wears an altered face
+ And shields a stranger race.
+ The river, on from mill to mill,
+ Flows past our childhood's garden still;
+ But ah! we children never more
+ Shall watch it from the water-door!
+ Below the yew--it still is there--
+ Our phantom voices haunt the air
+ As we were still at play,
+ And I can hear them call and say:
+ "How far is it to Babylon?"
+
+ Ah, far enough, my dear,
+ Far, far enough from here--
+ Yet you have farther gone!
+ "Can I get there by candlelight?"
+ So goes the old refrain.
+ I do not know--perchance you might--
+ But only, children, hear it right,
+ Ah, never to return again!
+ The eternal dawn, beyond a doubt,
+ Shall break on hill and plain,
+ And put all stars and candles out
+ Ere we be young again.
+
+ To you in distant India, these
+ I send across the seas,
+ Nor count it far across.
+ For which of us forgets
+ The Indian cabinets,
+ The bones of antelope, the wings of albatross,
+ The pied and painted birds and beans,
+ The junks and bangles, beads and screens,
+ The gods and sacred bells,
+ And the loud-humming, twisted shells!
+ The level of the parlour floor
+ Was honest, homely, Scottish shore;
+ But when we climbed upon a chair,
+ Behold the gorgeous East was there!
+ Be this a fable; and behold
+ Me in the parlour as of old,
+ And Minnie just above me set
+ In the quaint Indian cabinet!
+ Smiling and kind, you grace a shelf
+ Too high for me to reach myself.
+ Reach down a hand, my dear, and take
+ These rhymes for old acquaintance' sake!
+
+
+
+ V
+ To My Name-Child
+
+ 1
+
+ Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed,
+ Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read.
+ Then you shall discover, that your name was printed down
+ By the English printers, long before, in London town.
+
+ In the great and busy city where the East and West are met,
+ All the little letters did the English printer set;
+ While you thought of nothing, and were still too young to play,
+ Foreign people thought of you in places far away.
+
+ Ay, and when you slept, a baby, over all the English lands
+ Other little children took the volume in their hands;
+ Other children questioned, in their homes across the seas:
+ Who was little Louis, won't you tell us, mother, please?
+
+
+ 2
+
+ Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it down and go and play,
+ Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of Monterey,
+ Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying buried by the breeze,
+ Tiny sandy-pipers, and the huge Pacific seas.
+
+ And remember in your playing, as the sea-fog rolls to you,
+ Long ere you could read it, how I told you what to do;
+ And that while you thought of no one, nearly half the world away
+ Some one thought of Louis on the beach of Monterey!
+
+
+ VI
+ To Any Reader
+
+ As from the house your mother sees
+ You playing round the garden trees,
+ So you may see, if you will look
+ Through the windows of this book,
+ Another child, far, far away,
+ And in another garden, play.
+ But do not think you can at all,
+ By knocking on the window, call
+ That child to hear you. He intent
+ Is all on his play-business bent.
+ He does not hear, he will not look,
+ Nor yet be lured out of this book.
+ For, long ago, the truth to say,
+ He has grown up and gone away,
+ And it is but a child of air
+ That lingers in the garden there.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Child's Garden of Verses, by
+Robert Louis Stevenson
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 136 ***