A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson - HTML preview

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A Child's Garden of Verses

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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.

 

 

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 peoples' 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?

 

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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 emperors 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.

 

At first they move a little slow,

But still the faster on they go,

And still beside them close I keep

Until we reach the town of Sleep.

 

 

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.

 

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PIRATE STORY

 

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,

Three of us aboard 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 harbor and the garden is the shore.

 

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FOREIGN LANDS

 

Up into the cherry tree

Who should climb but little me?

I held the trunk with both my hands

And looked abroad on 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.

 

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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.

 

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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 bell and voice 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,

 

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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 a 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.

 

 

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.

 

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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.

 

 

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.

 

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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.

 

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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.

 

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RAIN

 

The rain is raining all around,

It falls on field and tree,

It rains on the umbrellas here,

And on the ships at sea.

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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 there 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.

 

 

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.

 

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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.

 

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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 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.

 

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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.

 

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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 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.

 

 

ESCAPE AT BEDTIME

 

The lights from the parlor 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 shone 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.

 

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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.

 

 

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.

 

 

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.

 

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HAPPY THOUGHT

 

The world is so full of a number of things,

I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.

 

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