• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Table of Contents
 Home and play
 Music
 Fancies & pictures
 Romance
 Post-scripts
 Back Matter
 Advertising
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: The child world
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00084133/00001
 Material Information
Title: The child world
Physical Description: 171, 11, 1 p. : ill. ; 20 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Setoun, Gabriel, 1861-1930
Robinson, Charles, 1870-1937 ( Illustrator )
Lane, John ( Publisher )
Ballantyne, Hanson and Co ( Printer )
Publisher: John Lane
Place of Publication: New York
Manufacturer: Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
Publication Date: 1896
Edition: 3rd ed.
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1896   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1896   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1896
Genre: Children's poetry
Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: Gabriel Setoun ; illustrated by Charles Robinson.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00084133
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002237320
notis - ALH7805
oclc - 232334732

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Front Matter
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Half Title
        Page 5
    Frontispiece
        Page 6
    Title Page
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Dedication
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Table of Contents
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    Home and play
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Baby's big world
            Page 19
            Page 20
            Page 21
            Page 22
        The stars
            Page 23
            Page 24
            Page 25
        From a bedroom window
            Page 26
        Morning song
            Page 27
            Page 28
            Page 29
            Page 30
            Page 31
            Page 32
        Hiding
            Page 33
            Page 34
            Page 35
        Wading
            Page 36
            Page 37
            Page 38
            Page 39
        A lost week
            Page 40
            Page 41
            Page 42
        Sailing
            Page 43
            Page 44
            Page 45
            Page 46
        Santa Claus
            Page 47
            Page 48
            Page 49
        Winter nights
            Page 50
            Page 51
        Story time
            Page 52
            Page 53
        Lullaby
            Page 54
            Page 55
            Page 56
    Music
        Page 57
        Page 58
        The world's music
            Page 59
            Page 60
            Page 61
        The music of the spheres
            Page 62
        The birds' songs
            Page 63
            Page 64
        The wind's song
            Page 65
            Page 66
            Page 67
        The song of the kettle
            Page 68
            Page 69
            Page 70
        The crows
            Page 71
            Page 72
            Page 73
            Page 74
        The sea-shell
            Page 75
            Page 76
            Page 77
        What the leaves say
            Page 78
            Page 79
            Page 80
            Page 81
            Page 82
    Fancies & pictures
        Page 83
        The eyes of God
            Page 84
            Page 85
        Jack Frost
            Page 86
            Page 87
            Page 88
        A queer thing
            Page 89
        How the flowers grow
            Page 90
            Page 91
            Page 92
            Page 93
        Sabbath days
            Page 94
            Page 95
        Springtime
            Page 96
            Page 97
            Page 98
            Page 99
        The coward nettle
            Page 100
            Page 101
        Rain in spring
            Page 102
        A mystery
            Page 103
            Page 104
            Page 105
        God's work
            Page 106
            Page 107
            Page 108
            Page 109
        Dreams
            Page 110
            Page 111
        In the harvest field
            Page 112
            Page 113
        On the beach
            Page 114
            Page 115
        City sparrows
            Page 116
            Page 117
            Page 118
            Page 119
        The sleeping world
            Page 120
            Page 121
        A portrait
            Page 122
            Page 123
        Caddie
            Page 124
            Page 125
            Page 126
    Romance
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Romance
            Page 129
            Page 130
            Page 131
        Chivalry
            Page 132
            Page 133
            Page 134
            Page 135
        Robinson Crusoe
            Page 136
            Page 137
            Page 138
            Page 139
        Time & tide
            Page 140
            Page 141
        Shipwreck
            Page 142
            Page 143
            Page 144
        Fairyland
            Page 145
            Page 146
            Page 147
            Page 148
        My valentine
            Page 149
            Page 150
            Page 151
            Page 152
    Post-scripts
        Page 153
        Page 154
        To Rob and May
            Page 155
            Page 156
        To Bessie
            Page 157
            Page 158
            Page 159
        To May and Mary
            Page 160
            Page 161
            Page 162
        To Auntie
            Page 163
            Page 164
        To the boys of Barncraig
            Page 165
            Page 166
            Page 167
            Page 168
            Page 169
        To all children
            Page 170
            Page 171
    Back Matter
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
    Advertising
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
    Back Cover
        Page 188
        Page 189
    Spine
        Page 190
Full Text









































The Baldwin Library
R Urivcrsity
Florida


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e CHILD e WORLD.


CABKIEL 5ETOVN.
AVTHOR OF BARNMCRAI,"G"SVNSHINE I HAAR"
ETC.
ILLV5TRATED BY
CHAKLES KOBIN5ON.


S[OHN L[ANE -
THE-B1ISonDiE- EAD
-LONDON NEW 'KK0:
1 0 CQ(.


THIRD EDITION












COPYRIGHTED IN AIMRICA

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ,




































DEAR MOTHER, THESE TO YOU I GIVE,
ALTHOUGH THE WORDS ALREADY LIVE
WITHIN YOUR HEART: FOR YOU HAVE HEARD
MY VERSES, EVERY LINE AND WORD-
YEA, EVEN BEFORE THE THOUGHTS HAD TIME
TO FEEL THEMSELVES AT HOME IN RHYME.
YET THERE IS SOMETHING IN THE LOOK
AND HANDLING OF A PRINTED BOOK
THAT SEEMS TO SAY, "LO, HERE IS CAUGHT
THE SPOKEN WORD OR PASSING THOUGHT
THAT, TOUCHING SOME MYSTERIOUS SPRING,
MAKES ALL TIE PAST A LIVING THING."

SO YOU MAY READ, WHO READ BETWEEN
THE LINES BECAUSE YOUR EYES HAVE SEEN
THE CHILD AND HIS CHILD-POEMS GROW.
A POEM OTHERS MAY NOT KNOW
IN GLIMPSES OF THAT JOYOUS LIFE
ALL ON THE SUNNY SHORES OF FIFE.
AND HEAR IN SONG, THOUGH FAINT AND DIM,
AN ECHO OF THE VOICE OF HIM
WHO PASSED AND LEFT US A.L BEFORE
HIS HEART SUMMED HALF THE YEARS HE WORE.

SO, MOTHER DEAR, TIIIS BOOK TO YOU!
IT MAY BUILD UP THE PAST ANEW
UNTIL AS IN A DREAM YOU SEE
YOUR CHILDREN GATHER ROUND YOUR KNEE
TO LISTEN WHILE A CHAPTER'S READ,
THEN LISP THEIR PRAYERS AND GO TO BED,
AND WHEN THEY'RE SOUND ASLEEP YOU'LL SIT
TO HEAR THE WHILE YOU SEW OR KNIT,
THEIR FATIIER'S VOICE SO RICH IN TONE
GIVE VERSE A CHARM NOT ALL ITS OWN;
OR FROM HIS BIG CIAIR READ AGAIN
SOME PASSAGII FROM IIIS LO\ ED MONTAIGNE.



























HOME AND PIAY.




Baby's Big World Page 19
The Stars 23
From a Bedroom Wiindow 26
Morning Song 27
Hiding 33
WI'ading 36
A Lost Week 40
Sailing 43
11







CONTENTS


The World's Music
The Music qf the Spheres
The Birds' Songs
The Wind's Song
The Song of the Kettle
The Crovs
The Sea Shell
What the Leaves Say


Santa Claus
Winter Nights
Story Time
Lullaby


Page 47
50
52
54







CONTENTS


The Eyes of God Page 85
Jack Frost 86
A Queer Thing 89
How the Flowers Grow 90
Sabbath Days 94
Springtime 97
The Coward Nettle 100
Rain in Spring 102
A Mystenj 103
God's Work 106
Dreams 110
In the Harvest Field 112
On the Beach 114
City Sparrows 116







CONTENTS


The Sleeping World
A Portrait
Caddie


Romance
Chivalry
Robinson Crusoe
Time and Tide
Shipwreck
Fairyland
My Valentine


Page 120
122
124







CONTE TS


To Rob and May
To Bessie
To May and Mary
To Auntie
To the Boys of Barneraig
To All Children


Page 155
157
160
163
165
170






E CHILD WORLD. J '',


AND
IL"AY
3k











IBkAY'S BIG WORLD.


7 hen the day is nearly done
And the birds-
have gone to rest,
Baby likes to see the sun
beottig in the-
golden west.








BABY'S BIG WORLD


So she climbs upon a chair;
Gazes out with round, blue eyes,
While the sunlight on her hair
Makes it golden as the skies.



What a big, big world she sees!
Leafy lanes and winding rills,
Great, green fields and shady trees,
And far away, the silent hills.



Round about the setting Sun
Clouds are bidding him good-night;
Baby sees them, every one,
Glowing in his golden light.



When the clouds are growing dim
And their gold has changed to red,
Baby sings her evening hymn,
Lisps her prayer, and goes to bed.



Ere the stars begin to peep
In the heavens, east and west,
Baby will be sound asleep,
Like a birdie in its nest.












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.ouhnl about the scttinQ un :
Clouds are bidding him; .
OCood-night;


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BABY'S BIG WORLD

Still, perhaps, in dream she sees,
Leafy lanes, and.winding rills,
Great, green fields and shady trees;
Golden clouds and silent hills.


dilc.


























THE STARK.


'I


OPEN the shutters, put out the light;
Our gowns are on and our prayers are
said;
And now we must bid the stars good-night,
Ere mother haps us up in bed,
Around the window, one, two, three,
There's little May and Rob and me.


!,







THE STARS


Father opens the shutters a chink;
Then lowers the light to let us spy
The stars that stare, and the stars that blink,
A million lamps in the curtained sky.
Around the window, hand in hand,
Three children in their night-gowns stand.



"Yonder's the big one." Little May
Has seen him first, then Rob, then me.
For I am the oldest and that's the way
We should watch the stars across the sea.
Three little children in a row,
To watch the big one flash and glow.



Then Rob with his face to the window pressed
Picks out the red one among the white;
For that's the star that Rob likes best
Because it shines like the harbour light.
But I point out the row of three
That stand like May and Rob and me.



Then father, while we stand and gaze,
Talks of the sky and names the stars;
Mine is Orion's belt; and May's
Is Sirius; and Rob's is Mars.
Then into our cosy beds we creep;
For it's time that children were all asleep.






THE STARS


Good-night, you stars that glint and gleam.
The shutters are shut; the curtains drawn;
But we'll see you shining down in dream,
Till you all go out with the rosy dawn.
Father and mother, a kiss, good-night!
We'll wake when you let in the morning
light.


rl~ru

























AY by day the shadows grow
Shorter on the sleeping snow;
Day by day the sunbeams fall
Closer to our garden wall.

When the noon-day sun shall glint
On boxwood, balm, and peppermint,
I'll know that Spring has come, and then
Hurrah! I shall get out again.



























oys and girls get out of bi d;
Me sun is shining-
round and red
And wakening every-
sleepy head
To go to school-
in the morning.








MORNING SONG


HIS is the way we brush
our boots;
E Us OUR Po'o T Make them bright both
left and right.
This is the way we
brush our boots
To go to school in the
morning.




The dewy grass is growing green;
The face of every flower is clean,
And children also should be seen
As fair for school in the morning.







MORNING SONG


HIS is the way we wash
our face,
WASH IOUR FACE' Leave no speck on
F cheek or neck.
This is the way we
wash our face
To go to school in the
morning.




The birds have had their bath, and now
They preen their wings on twig and bough,
And, chirping, tell all children how
To wash and dress in the morning.







MORNING SONG


HIS is the way we comb
our hair.
wL co01B o AIRM. From the crown we
shade it down.
This is the way we
comb our hair
To go to school in the
morning.




The clouds that looked so black last night
Are sailing now all snowy white;
And boys and girls should be as bright
To go to school in the morning.







MORNING SONG


HIS is the way we brush-
our clothes.
't 'RUSni OU ri Children must beware
of dust,
This is the way we
brush our clothes
To go to school in the
morning.



We'll get our breakfast and away,
With half an hour to run and play,
And so begin a happy day
In time for school in the morning.







MORNING SONG


ND that is the way that
boys and girls
Who would be seen
both neat- and clean.
This is the way that
boys and girls
Prepare for school in
the morning.


TFL END
OFrTH 50NG





































HEN the table-cloth is laid
And the cups are on the table;
When the tea and toast are made,
That's a happy time for Mabel.
Stealing to her mother's side,
In her ear she whispers low,
"When papa comes in I'll hide;
Do not tell him where I go."



33 c







HIDING


On her knees upon the floor;
In below the sofa creeping;
When she hears him at the door
She pretends that she is sleeping.
"Where is Mabel?" father cries,
Looking round and round about.
Then he murmurs in surprise,
"Surely Mabel can't be out."
















First he looks behind his chair,
Then he peers below the table,
Seeking, searching everywhere,
All in vain for little Mabel.
But at last he thinks he knows;
And he laughs and shakes his head;
Says to mother, "I suppose
Mabel has been put to bed."







HIDING


But when he sits down to tea,
From beneath the sofa creeping,
Mabel climbs upon his knee,
Claps her hands: "I was not sleeping."
Father whispers, "Where's my girl's
Very secret hiding place?"
But she only shakes her curls,
Laughing, smiling in his face







































S UMMER'S sunny days have come;
Soft and sweet the wind is blowing;
Bees across the meadow hum
Where the golden flowers are growing;
Fields and trees are green and fair,
And sunshine's sleeping everywhere.
36







WADING


O, the sunny summer days,
When the ripples dance and quiver;
And the sun at noontide lays
Star-like jewels on the river!
Take your shoes off; wade in here
Where the water's warm and clear.


Listen to the song it sings,
Ever rippling, ever flowing;
Telling of a thousand things;
Whence it comes, and whither going;
Singing, like the birds and bees,
Of the wondrous world it sees.
37








WADING


"Come and I shall bathe your feet,
Little boys, so warm with playing
In the summer's sultry heat."
That is what the stream is saying.
Off go jacket, socks, and shoes.
How could any boy refuse?
















See the fishes dart about,
Where a thousand lights are dancing;
Here a minnow, there a trout,
Like a sword of silver glancing.
Is it hide-and-seek they play
Through the sunny summer day ?








WADING


All the wood is filled with sound,
And the very air is ringing,
Up and down and all around,
With the songs the birds are singing.
0, the golden summer hours,
When earth's a paradise of flowers !





















A LOST WEEK.


woke one day with wrecks
and ships
SAll topsy-turvy in my head;
And I learned ifis from
mother's lips,
That I had been a week in bed.







A LOST WEEK


I'd slept so sound though I was ill,
I had not felt the slightest pain;
Yet mother said I must lie still
And try to fall asleep again.


To sleep a week was long enough;
And not to wake, and not to know
That I'd been drinking nasty stuff
From bottles standing in a row.



Yet still my eyes would not keep wide,
Even though I heard the shouts of boys
And happy girls at play outside,
And knew the sound of every voice.








A LOST.WEEK


The voices died to a drowsy hum;
And in the distance, low and deep,
I heard the roll of the engine drum,
And then-I must have fallen asleep.








C--
















5IMLING


ITTLE waves, I've brought the boat
Father made to me;
For I want to see it float
On the sunny sea.
Take it in your little hands;
Bear it o'er the golden sands.








SAILING


What a pretty boat it is,
Sail and mast and all!
Father made it just like his,
Only very small.
And I'm going to call it "Sun,"
For that's the name of father's one.


Little waves, come up and creep
Round my little boat;
Where the water's ankle-deep
I shall see it float;
And you'll sing your sweetest song
As it sails and sails along.







SAILING

See, my boatie mounts and dips
Where you break in foam.
Tell it how the big, big ships
Sail so far from home;
What they bring, and where they go;
And the thousand things you know.


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9 tjk


What is it you sing about?
Tell me what you say,
Coming in and going out,
All the summner day.
Whisper to my boat and me
Of the ships far out at sea.
45


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^^/







SAILING


Now we're sailing, brave and bold,
With the gentle breeze;
Seeing islands laid with gold
Far in foreign seas,
Where the skies are bright and clear,
And it's summer all the year.

Little waves, now must you bring
My boatie safe to land.
We've listened to the songs you sing
Creeping o'er the sand.
When I grow older I'll find out
The lovely lands you talk about.





























"1ANTA CLAI2x


N Spring the sun shines clear and
bright
And calls us out to run and play,
For, though the winds are cold at night,
The steaming ground is warm all day.







SANTA CLAUS


When Summer brings the birds and bees,
And flowers wave o'er all the land,
We want to play among the trees
Or dig for sand-eels in the sand.


In Autumn, when the golden sheaves
Are ranked about the fields in scores,
And ruddy tints are on the leaves,
You do not wish to stay indoors.







SANTA CLAUS


But when the birds and bees are dumb
And Jack Frost stills the bubbling brooks,
It's then that Santa Claus will come
And bring you lots of toys and books.



Is it not kind of Santa Claus,
To think of little girls and boys
When winter nights are long, because
That's just the time they wish for toys?































S HEN winter hangs the hedge with haws
And whitens hemlocks round the
park,
We can't get out to play, because,
As soon as tea is done, it's dark.


It's hard to have to stay at home
When haws are ripe for hemlock guns;
And so through foreign lands we roam
To seek the fruits of tropic suns,



50







WINTER NIGHTS


Rob folds the screen; and in a nook
Of dates and figs sits down to feast,
And fills it from his picture book
With bears and every kind of beast.














I turn the stool up; take my seat
And sail away to Sinbad-shore,
Where, setting it upon its feet,
I ride a thousand miles and more.

And to her dolls May's humming low
The songs that all dolls understand,
While mother knits and doesn't know
Her chair's the harbour where we'll land.













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aly'-,, TIM
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W get our books when play is
done ;
And May with Bunyan from the shelf
Reads through the pictures one by one
And makes a story up herself.








STORY TIME


And Rob slays giants tall as trees
And witches that infest the land;
Their prisoned princesses he frees
And fights with dragons hand to hand.


While round the world with Drake I sail,
And drive the great Armada back;
Or toil through seas of ice, and nail
Against the Pole the Union Jack.


{A .




































H USH-A-BYE, baby, hush-a-bye, ba!
Gooing one, cooing one, rest.
The round sun's already asleep in his beddie
And dreaming a dream of the West.
Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, ba!
Comfy and cosy,
Backie and bosie,
Till morning, sweet morning, ta ta!
54








LULLABY


Hush-a-bye, baby, hush-a-bye, ba!
Blinking one, winking one, rest.
The gloaming is falling and curfew is calling
The little birds home to their nest,
Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, ba!
Comfy and cosy,
Feetie and toesie,
Till morning, bright morning, ta ta!














Hush-a-bye, baby, hush-a-bye, ba!
Smile you now, while you now sleep.
55







LULLABY

The starnies are twinkling above you, and sprinkling
Baby stars down on the deep.
Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, ba!
Comfy and cosy,
Eyesey and nosey,
Till morning awake thee, ta ta!
















MVN'C.
























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happr place."















THE WORLDS MU5IC.


T HE world's a very happy place,
Where every child should dance and sing,
And always have a smiling face,
And never sulk for anything.


I waken when the morning's come,
And feel the air and light alive
With strange sweet music like the hum
Of bees about their busy hive.


The linnets play among the leaves
At hide-and-seek, and chirp and sing;
While, flashing to and from the eaves,
The swallows twitter on the wing.







THE WORLD'S MUSIC


And twigs that shake, and boughs that sway;
And tall old trees you could not climb;
And winds that come, but cannot stay,
Are singing gaily all the time.



From dawn to dark the old mill-wheel
Makes music, going round and round;
And dusty-white with flour and meal,
The miller whistles to its sound.













The brook that flows beside the mill,
As happy as a brook can be,
Goes singing its own song until
It learns the singing of the sea.


For every wave upon the sands
Sings songs you never tire to hear,
Of laden ships from sunny lands
Where it is summer all the year.
60








THE WORLD'S MUSIC

And if you listen to the rain
When leaves and birds and bees are dumb,
You hear it pattering on the pane
Like Andrew beating on his drum.


The coals beneath the kettle croon,
And clap their hands and dance in glee;
And even the kettle hums a tune
To tell you when it's time for tea.


The world is such a happy place
That children, whether big or small,
Should always have a smiling face
And never, never sulk at all.


- /



























IU51C OF
'5PERE


W HEN we are fast asleep
V in bed,
And hear in dream the
sound of song,
The moon and stars high over-
head
Are making music all night
long.


62























THE BIRDS' SONGS.


W HAT do the birds all sing about
Through the livelong summer day ?
The swallows call, "Come out; come out,"
And the blackbirds whistle, "To play."


The mavis sings to the rosy dawn
Till the sun comes into the sky,
And flings his gold about the lawn
Where the dewy diamonds lie.


The lark leaps from the broomy links,
And shakes from his wings the dew;
And soaring sings, until he blinks
A speck in the azure blue.







THE BIRDS' SONGS


Then every bower finds a voice;
And linnets and finches sing;
The grasses dance; the whins rejoice;
And the bells of the blue-bell ring.

Thus all the day do birdies sing
Until the light grows dim;
And then the lark on soaring wing
Towards heaven again must hymn.

The mavis tunes his throat anew,
And, piping to the west,
He bids the dying day adieu
And sings a song of rest.

" 0 what a happy world is ours
In summer and in spring,
With fields and trees and grass and flowers !
That's what the birdies sing.























THE WIND'5 SONG.


O WINDS that blow across the sea,
What is the story that you bring?
Leaves clap their hands on every tree
And birds about their branches sing.

You sing to flowers and trees and birds
Your sea-songs over all the land.
Could you not stay and whisper words
A little child might understand?








THE WIND'S SONG


The roses nod to hear you sing;
But though I listen all the day,
You never tell me anything
Of father's ship so far away.



Its masts are taller than the trees;
Its sails are silver in the sun;
There's not a ship upon the seas
So beautiful as father's one.













With wings spread out it flies so fast
It leaves the waves all white with foam
Just whisper to me, blowing past,
If you have seen it sailing home.



I feel your breath upon my cheek,
And in my hair, and on my brow.
Dear winds, if you could only speak,
I know what you would tell me now.
66







THE WIND'S SONG


My father's coming home, you'd say,
With precious presents, one, two, three;
A shawl for mother, beads for May,
And eggs and shells for Rob and me.

The winds sing songs where'er they roam;
The leaves all clap their little hands;
For father's ship is coming home
With wondrous things from foreign lands.
































THE SONG OF THE KETTLE.


W HEN I come hungry home from school,
I like to hear the kettle sing;
And, seated on the kitchen stool,
I watch it hanging from the swing.
68







THE SONG OF THE KETTLE

At first it does not say a word;
And then it tries a chirp or two,
And cheeps a bit, just like a bird
That wonders what he'll sing to you.



But when its throat is cleared it sings
Of honey gathered by the bee;
Of cream and jam and all the things
That you would like to have at tea.



And then I shut my eyes and hear
The bees hum sweetly as they pass;
And see the lazy cows quite clear
Go wading ankle deep in grass;



And harvest fields and hill and sky;
The river and the old mill-wheel,
Where horse and cart go rumbling by
With swelling sacks of flour and meal.


----, \








THE SONG OF THE KETTLE

That's what the kettle sings about;
I see them like the things you dream;
When all at once its crooked spout
Sends out a gush of hissing steam.


The lid goes rattling up and down
And won't keep quiet till mother's come.
And soon the teapot, fat and brown,
Is singing, and the kettle's dumb.
















THE CROW'


W HAT a famous noise there was
In the morning when I rose!
All the air was hoarse with "caws,"
And the sky was black with crows.

Hundreds circling round the trees
Swooped down on a last year's nest;
Rose and scattered, then, like bees,
Swarmed again and could not rest;




T"^^





























WK i~
; (>.'







THE, CROWS


Cawing, cawing all the time;
Till it grew to one great voice,
And you could not hear the chime
Of the school-clock for the noise.



Every garden bush has heard,
Through its tiny twigs and shoots;
And the trees have all been stirred
Right down to their very roots.



Buds of green on branch and stem
Glisten in the morning sun;
For the crows have wakened them,
And they open one by one.



On the hill, last night, there lay
One white patch from winter-snows.
Now it's melted clean away
With the cawing of the crows.



And a primrose, too, has heard,
Peeping out to nod and talk,
From the hedge-roots to a bird,
Hopping down the garden walk.







THE CROWS


What a famous noise it was!
To make the trees and bushes hear,
And fields and flowers and leaves, because
The merry time of spring is near.








THEL 5SLA- 'ELL.



II
Ll-- A-v
VV ;41
'i~P -j
-# 311~II~
-:i .-

U l"1~~


OLD this buckie to your ear-
What a pleasant sound you hear
75







THE SEA-SHELL


All the happy sounds you've heard;
Hum of bee and song of bird;
What the gentle breezes sing
When they wake the flowers in spring;
Songs of trees and running brooks;
Songs you never read in books,
Of the waves and of the tides,
And a thousand more besides;
Songs you've heard the whole year through.
Has this buckie heard them too?



For it's here the breezes bring,
Songs the fields and forests sing.
Here the tides tell twice a day,
Of the wonders far away.
And the buckie drinks its fill
Of their music, lying still,
Listening with open mouth,
To the songs of north and south.



Through its winding whorls they creep,
Where they're singing now in sleep,
A thousand voices never done;
And you hear them all in one.







THE SEA-SHELL


When its song is sad and low,
The tide is going out, you know;
But it shouts with joy and pride,
To welcome in the rising tide.




























WHAT THE
LEAVEI' cA.


I HAVE heard the leaves, and know
What they speak of, whispering low,
As the breezes come and go.
78







WHAT THE LEAVES SAY


To the South they whisper, "Please
Tell us tales of other trees,
You have seen across the seas."



And the wind, which understands,
Speaks of far off foreign lands,
Till the leaves all clap their hands.



For they hear about the vine,
Growing by the castled Rhine,
Flowing through a land of wine;



Orange groves and olive trees,
Hanging o'er enchanted seas,
And of fairer things than these;



Giant palm-leaves waving fair;
Fragrant figs that fill the air
With an odour rich and rare.



Thus the balmy South winds blow,
Telling, as they come and go,
Of the thousand trees they know.







WHAT THE LEAVES SAY


But the angry East has tales
All of storms and ships in gales;
Broken masts and tattered sails.



And it swirls and shrieks, and breaks
Frightened twigs away, and shakes
Branches till the great trunk quakes.



But the North wind, when it blows,
Tells of ice in bergs and floes;
Bears and seals and Esquimaux.



And it speaks of wondrous sights,
When the magic northern lights
Flare across its Arctic nights.



To the green leaves as they hear,
Shivering with a boding fear
Of the winter drawing near,



Comes the West, and whispers low,
"Leaves and flowers shall not know
Anything of frost and snow."








WHAT THE LEAVES SAY


And it calls the birds to sing
Songs of summer, songs of spring,
Till the widest woodlands ring.



Then the leaves all dance and play;
Every branch and twig and spray,
Calling to the West wind, "Stay!"



I have listened and I've heard
What the leaves say, every word
Like the chirping of a bird.






i

t',






















ii




-, ~i- a-r -~h


p / ,







/~i~


-Iz


/,- 5-~J


THH EYES Of GOD.


ii



























GOD watches o'er us all the day,
At home, at school, and at our play;
And when the sun has left the skies
He watches with a million eyes.














85
















"---.- -- i -l,',t

I














THE door was shut, as doors should be,
Before you went to bed last night;
Yet Jack Frost has got in you see,
And left your window silver white.


He must have waited till you slept;
And not a single word he spoke,
But pencilled o'er the panes and crept
Away again before you woke.
86







JACK FROST


And now you cannot see the trees
Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;
But there are fairer things than these
His fingers traced on everyI pane.













Rocks and castles towering high;
Hills and dales and streams and fields;
And knights in armour riding by,
With nodding plumes and shining shields.



And here are little boats, and there
Big ships with sails spread to the breeze;
And yonder, palm trees waving fair
On islands set in silver seas.



And butterflies with gauzy wings;
And herds of cows and flocks of sheep;
And fruit and flowers and all the things
You see when you are sound asleep.







JACK FROST


For, creeping softly underneath
The door when all the lights are out,
Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe
And knows the things you think about.












He paints them on the the window pane
In fairy lines with frozen steam;
And when you wake you see again
The lovely things you saw in dream.


















SAQLI rLF. f I11.





W HEN I go to bed, if the night is fine,
'I should like to sit up late;
But in the morning I'd lie till nine
When mother calls me at eight.





































HIS is how the flowers grow:
I have watched them and I know.




s ....^~^,9 -0...

90








HOW THE FLOWERS GROW

First, above the ground is seen
A tiny blade of purest green,
Reaching up and peeping forth
East and West, and South and North.













North, towards the hills it looks,
To see the silver flash of brooks;
And it questions of the East
the winter winds have ceased.



Turning South, it asks the sun
If the springtime has begun;
From the West it seeks to know
When its warmer winds will blow



Then it shoots Lup day by day,
Curling in a curious way
Round a blossom, which it keeps
Warm and cosy while it sleeps.
91







HOW THE FLOWERS GROW

For, although the sun be bright,
Jack Frost walks abroad at night;
And tender buds would surely die
If they were out when Jack went by.


But when birds begin to sing
Of the balmy breath of spring;
And the clouds in summer's quest
All come sailing from the West;


Then the sunbeams find their way
To the sleeping bud and say,
"We are children of the sun
Sent to wake thee, little one."


And the leaflet opening wide
Shows the tiny bud inside,
Peeping with half-opened eye
On the bright and sunny sky.








HOW THE FLOWERS GROW

Breezes from the West and South
Lay their kisses on its mouth;
Till the petals all are grown,
And the bud's a flower full-blown.



That is how the flowers grow:
I have watched them and I know.



























5ADBATH DkAYW5


ILIKE the Summer Sabbath days;
For father takes us out a walk
Along the Banks or East the Braes;
And always of the flowers we talk.



We find a snug and cosy nook,
Where you might sit for hours and hours;
And father reads us from a book,
What poets write about the flowers.

94







SABBATH DAYS


We hear the gowan's poet make
A song about his bonny gem;
They smile around, and for his sake
We stay our hands from pulling them.


And flowers that grow in wood and wold;
On hill and heath, on bank and bent;
We hear one call them, "Blue and gold,
Stars shining in earth's firmament."


He shuts the book; and then we hear
How fays and fairies sleep all day
In cradle blooms; till, tinkling clear,
The dew-drops call them out to play.


Of rounds and fairy rings, he tells,
When beetles drone and glow-worms glow;
Till we hear the chime of the heather bells
And a thousand bind-weed bugles blow.






































































jrr '-C-,


* Y 1~i


c"Th























.I'


SING a song of springtime;
Sing of March and May
When the sun is climbing
Higher every day;
Wakening and warming
All the icy earth;
From the clay clods charming
Flowers into birth;






SPRINGTIME


Hanging hawthorn hedges
With a bloom of snow;
Kissing woodland edges;
'Bidding violets grow.
Wheresoe'er he lays his
Light in golden bars,
Buttercups and daisies
Gleam like suns and stars;





.-- i- .-. ...


/ 1"



Tender-eyed primroses
From their clustering leaves
Leap to life in posies,
Ranked around like sheaves.
And where gorse is gilding
Bushes bare and brown,
Birds are busy building
Quite a little town.
Now it's wool theyh'e bringing;
Moss and straw and hay;
Songs of gladness singing
All the happy day.
98







SPR I NG TIME


Sing a song of springtime;
Sing of April showers;
Sing of golden butterflies
And birds and bees and flowers.









































ISAW a bumble bee to-day
Alight on a nettle leaf;
And when he had rested and buzzed away
He was not buzzing in grief.



100




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