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by
To Alison Cunningham
From Her Boy
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
Garden Days
Envoys
I
Bed in Summer
II
A Thought
III
At the Sea-Side
IV
Young Night-Thought
V
Whole Duty of Children
VII
Pirate Story
VIII
Foreign Lands
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
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.
XXI
Escape at Bedtime
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
XXIII
The Cow
XXIV
Happy Thought
XXV
The Wind
XXVI
Keepsake Mill
XXVII
Good and Bad Children
XXVIII
Foreign Children
XXIX
The Sun Travels
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!
XXXI
My Bed is a Boat
XXXII
The Moon
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!
XXXIV
Time to Rise
XXXV
Looking-Glass River
XXXVII
From a Railway Carriage
XXXVIII
Winter-Time
XXXIX
The Hayloft
XL
Farewell to the Farm
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.
2. Shadow March
3. In Port
I
The Unseen Playmate
II
My Ship and I
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.
IV
Picture-Books in Winter
V
My Treasures
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.
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
When the grass was closely mown,
Walking on the lawn alone,
In the turf a hole I found,
And hid a soldier underground.
VI
Autumn Fires
VII
The Gardener
VIII
Historical Associations
ENVOYS
I
To Willie and Henrietta
II
To My Mother
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?"
V
To My Name-Child
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?
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.
VI
To Any Reader