• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Note
 Table of Contents
 The fairy book
 Angela's birth
 A midnight dance
 Batholomew
 A change wanted
 The busy father
 Tubbing
 The window-box
 The spider
 The first prayer
 Mustard and cress
 Out early
 Bessie
 Tim's foxglove
 The 'Logical Gardens
 The happy thrush
 The lost friend
 The makeshift
 Carrying Angela
 The bad boy
 The cradle song
 Diamonds
 The sleepless child
 Tim's grace
 The dew
 Lost labour
 Off to the sea
 Silverwig's sight
 Silver Sammy
 A thief
 Playing at Paradise
 To Sharp
 The thankful bird
 The lost lamb
 The rainbow
 A question
 Aunt Jan
 East and West
 The violin
 A lullaby
 Seraphina
 A protest
 Aladdin's Lamp
 Off to Africa
 Fairies in faces
 The walls of Jericho
 Innocency
 Late for tea
 Syddie
 Bedfordshire
 The stuffed magpies
 Father thrush
 The swan
 Thanks
 The offended snail
 In Arabia
 Auntie Nell
 Thank God
 Voyaging
 Before sleep
 Back Matter
 Advertising
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: Songs for little people
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00085065/00001
 Material Information
Title: Songs for little people
Physical Description: viii, 110, 2 p., 8 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 22 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Gale, Norman, 1862-1942
Stratton, Helen ( Illustrator )
Archibald Constable & Co ( Publisher )
T. and A. Constable ( Printer )
Publisher: Archibald Constable & Company
Place of Publication: Westminster Edinburgh
Manufacturer: T. and A. Constable
Publication Date: 1896
 Subjects
Subject: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1896   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1896   ( rbgenr )
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: Scotland -- Edinburgh
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by Norman Gale.
General Note: Spine title: Songs for little people / Norman Gale ; illustrations by Helen Stratton.
General Note: Illustrated title page printed in yellow and black.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00085065
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002230102
notis - ALH0445
oclc - 233699708

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Half Title
        Page i
    Title Page
        Page ii
    Dedication
        Page iii
    Note
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
    The fairy book
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Angela's birth
        Page 3
        Page 4
    A midnight dance
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 6a
        Page 7
    Batholomew
        Page 8
        Page 9
    A change wanted
        Page 10
        Page 11
    The busy father
        Page 12
    Tubbing
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 14a
    The window-box
        Page 15
        Page 16
    The spider
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
    The first prayer
        Page 20
    Mustard and cress
        Page 21
    Out early
        Page 22
        Page 23
    Bessie
        Page 24
        Page 24a
        Page 25
    Tim's foxglove
        Page 26
    The 'Logical Gardens
        Page 27
        Page 28
    The happy thrush
        Page 29
    The lost friend
        Page 30
        Page 31
    The makeshift
        Page 32
        Page 33
    Carrying Angela
        Page 34
    The bad boy
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
    The cradle song
        Page 38
        Page 39
    Diamonds
        Page 40
        Page 40a
        Page 41
    The sleepless child
        Page 42
    Tim's grace
        Page 43
    The dew
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Lost labour
        Page 46
        Page 47
    Off to the sea
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
    Silverwig's sight
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
    Silver Sammy
        Page 54
    A thief
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 56a
    Playing at Paradise
        Page 57
        Page 58
    To Sharp
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
    The thankful bird
        Page 62
        Page 63
    The lost lamb
        Page 64
        Page 65
    The rainbow
        Page 66
        Page 67
    A question
        Page 68
        Page 68a
    Aunt Jan
        Page 69
        Page 70
    East and West
        Page 71
        Page 72
    The violin
        Page 73
    A lullaby
        Page 74
    Seraphina
        Page 75
        Page 76
    A protest
        Page 77
        Page 78
    Aladdin's Lamp
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Off to Africa
        Page 81
        Page 82
    Fairies in faces
        Page 83
    The walls of Jericho
        Page 84
        Page 85
    Innocency
        Page 86
        Page 87
    Late for tea
        Page 88
        Page 88a
    Syddie
        Page 89
    Bedfordshire
        Page 90
        Page 91
    The stuffed magpies
        Page 92
        Page 93
    Father thrush
        Page 94
    The swan
        Page 95
        Page 96
    Thanks
        Page 97
        Page 98
    The offended snail
        Page 99
    In Arabia
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
    Auntie Nell
        Page 104
        Page 104a
        Page 105
    Thank God
        Page 106
    Voyaging
        Page 107
    Before sleep
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
    Back Matter
        Page 111
    Advertising
        Page 112
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text



























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SONGS FOR LITTLE PEOPLE





















SONGS

K^ LITTLE PEOPLE
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REMEMBERING HER UNCEASING INTEREST

AND ENCOURAGEMENT

I GRATEFULLY DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO

MRS. DENTON, OF RUGBY














NOTE


THIS book is designed for a position between
such extremes as the frankly babyish song-
books and Stevenson's exquisite and ever-
lasting memorials of a child by no means
typical. Considering the audience approached,
it must be admitted that a few rather difficult
words have been allowed entry into the verses;
but these have not come by chance, for the
author has endeavoured to attract children up
to the ages of fourteen and fifteen, as well
as those requiring, because of their tenderer
years, poems of the simplest sort. Mothers
and grown-up sisters or aunts will, it is hoped,
translate and explain whenever a young reader
appears to be perplexed.































CONTENTS


PAGE

THE FAIRY BOOK, I

ANGELA'S BIRTH, 3

A MIDNIGHT DANCE, .

BARTHOLOMEW, 8

A CHANGE WANTED, IO

THE BUSY FATHER, 12

TUBBING, 13

THE WINDOW-BOX, 15

THE SPIDER, 17

HIS FIRST PRAYER, ..20

MUSTARD AND CRESS, 21

OUT EARLY, 22

BESSIE, 24













vi CONTENTS
PAGE
TIM'S FOXGLOVE, 26

THE 'LOGICAL GARDENS, 27

THE HAPPY THRUSH, 29

THE LOST FRIEND, 30

THE MAKESHIFT, 32

CARRYING ANGELA, 34

THE BAD BOY, 35

CRADLE SONG, 38

DIAMONDS, 40

THE SLEEPLESS CHILD, 42

TIM'S GRACE, 43

THE DEW, 44

LOST LABOUR, 46

OFF TO THE SEA, 48

SILVERWIG'S SIGHT, 51

SILVER SAMMY, 54

A THIEF,. 55

PLAYING AT PARADISE,. 57

TO SHARP, 59

THE THANKFUL BIRD, .62

THE LOST LAMB, 64















CONTENTS vii
PAGE
THE RAINBOW, 66

A QUESTION, 68

AUNT JAN, 69

EAST AND WEST, .. 71

THE VIOLIN, 73

A LULLABY, .. 74

SERAPHINA, 75

A PROTEST, 77

ALADDIN'S LAMP, 79

OFF TO AFRICA, I. .

FAIRIES IN FACES, 83

THE WALLS OF JERICHO, 84

INNOCENCY, 86

BEES, .87

LATE FOR TEA, 88

SYDDIE, 89

BEDFORDSHIRE, 90

THE STUFFED MAGPIES,. 92

FATHER THRUSH, 94

THE SWAN, 95

THANKS, 97















viii CONTENTS
PAGE

THE OFFENDED SNAIL, .99

IN ARABIA, 100

AUNTIE NELL, 104

THANK GOD, 106

VOYAGING, 107

BEFORE SLEEP, 108



























THE FAIRY BOOK


IN summer, when the grass is thick, if mother has the
time,
She shows me with her pencil how a poet makes a
rhyme,
And often she is sweet enough to choose a leafy nook,
Where I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-
book.

In winter, when the corn's asleep, and birds are not in
song,
And crocuses and violets have been away too long,
Dear mother puts her thimble by in answer to my look,
And I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-
book.
A











2 THE FAIRY BOOK

And mother tells the servants that of course they must
contrive
To manage all the household things from four till half-
past five,
For we really cannot suffer interruption from the cook,
When we cuddle close together with the happy Fairy-
book.





































ANGELA'S BIRTH


ANGELA came to us out of the flowers,
God's little blossom that changed into ours.


Cloves for her fingers, and cloves for her toes,
Eyes from the succory, mouth from the rose.











4 ANGELA'S BIRTH
Loveliness sprang from the sisterly stocks,
Daffodils gave her those yellowy locks.

Fairies that visit her constantly meet
Lilies and lavender making her sweet.


Cherry-pie, pansy, forget-me-not, musk,
Wake in her dawning and sleep in her dusk.


Angela came to us out of the flowers,
God's little blossom that changed into ours.



























A MIDNIGHT DANCE


THIS boy will tell you, I am sure,
How moon and mouse played on the floor ;
But he can tell a stranger thing
Of fairy fiddle and magic string.

Nurse says his eyes are far away,
He cannot play as others play;
And so, perhaps, the fairies came
To cheer him with a midnight game.

His room was full of friendly beams,
Ladders of fancy, light of dreams;
The moon had placed a shiny hand
On carpet, bed, and washing-stand.










A MIDNIGHT DANCE


The mouse within the silver lake
Was nibbling crumbs of currant cake,
When thirty fairies bright to see
Appeared in gauzy company.

The girls in sheeny petticoats,
Singing delicious treble notes,
With moving mazes charmed the eye,
Adepts in dance and minstrelsy.








And then came marching from the door,
With steady steps across the floor,
Fairies, made servants for their sins,
With tiny golden violins.

These formed a group beside the bed;
Each bent his small obedient head,
And then was scraped a dance so sweet
It captured all the hearers' feet.

Oh, how they flitted! how they leapt!
In magic undulations swept!













































































Atf. 6.











A MIDNIGHT DANCE 7

And how the fiddlers' fiery bows
Cried FASTER to the tripping toes !

Most rare and lovely was the view-
The twist of red, the flash of blue !
The mouse unfrightened, stared to see
The skipping hues of revelry.

Suddenly stopped the dancing din,
The fiddlers fled, the moon went in:
'Twas thus the kindly fairies came
To show this boy a midnight game.

































BARTHOLOMEW


BARTHOLOMEW
Is very sweet,
From sandy hair
To rosy feet.


Bartholomew
Is six months old,
And dearer far
Than pearls or gold.











BARTHOLOMEW 9

Bartholomew
Has deep blue eyes,
Round pieces dropped
From out the skies.


Bartholomew
Is hugged and kissed !
He loves a flower
In either fist.


Bartholomew's
My saucy son:
No mother has
A sweeter one!
























A CHANGE WANTED


SIT'S very common to be white.
I'm only just the usual sight.
I 'd like some fairy to employ
To change me into a little black
boy.


I'd have my bow and arrows then,
And shoot at stags like grown-up
men;
, I'd see the tall giraffe. What joy
To suddenly change to a little
black boy!


\I











A CHANGE WANTED I

I'd make a football from a gourd,
And get strange birds' eggs for my hoard;
Oh, marvellous must be the toys
That the negroes bring for their little
black boys!


But I am just the usual sight.
It's very common to be white.
I 'd like some fairy to employ
To change me into a little black boy.


























THE BUSY FATHER


MOTHER is dead,
Father is busy;
He never has time
For a frolic with Lizzie.


Often he comes,
Smiling and still,
To where she's asleep
Like the bud of a lily.


Working so hard,
Worried and busy,
He never has time
For a frolic with Lizzie.






























TUBBING


UNCLE Harry, hear the glee
Coming from the nursery !
Shall we just pop in to see
Thomas in his tub?



In a soapy pond of joy,
Water as his only toy,
Sits my golden sailor-boy
Thomas in his tub,











14 TUBBING

There he is, the little sweet,
Clutching at his rosy feet!
Make your toes and kisses meet,
Thomas in the tub!



Partly come of fairy line,
Partly human, part divine,
How I love this rogue of mine,
Thomas in the tub!















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THE WINDOW-BOX


O TIMOTHY TROT in the roses and cloves,
So cross if your peas are removed by my doves,
Remember the gift that your favourite loves-
A window-box full of geraniums.


The doctor has been with his brow full of cares,
And he says that the death in my back is past
prayers;
So bring me, dear Timothy, quickly upstairs
A window-box full of geraniums.


I leave you the heir to my rabbits and mice,
Give Tommy my skates for his fun on the ice,
And all I shall charge is a blossomy price-
A window-box full of geraniums.











16 THE WINDOW-BOX

Please tidy my garden for sweet Cousin Bess,
I've planted potatoes and pansies and cress;
She'll water and gather. I only possess
A window-box full of geraniums.

O freckled and faithful! 0 Timothy Trot!
No more we shall manage the pinks in the plot;
But keep in full bloom, just to brighten my lot,
A window-box full of geraniums.


I think you will cry to the roses and cloves,
I'm sure you will pardon the beaks of the doves,
I know you will bring what your favourite loves-
A window-box full of geraniums.





























THE SPIDER


Boy

SPIDER, spider, come to my call,
Spider, spider, come to my call,
Spider, spider, come to my call
When I bid you, you lazy old spider!



How many flies did you catch yesterday
With your delicate web and its silky display?
Come, tell me the state of your larder, I pray,
You shockingly gluttonous spider.
B











THE SPIDER


Spider

My web was in luck, for I caught twenty flies
Too near to the earth, but too far from the skies;
And I bundled them in with the other supplies,
Like a thrifty and long-headed spider.

Now some were fond lovers, who, buzzing of love,
Looked never around them, below or above,
But popped in my web as a hand to a glove,
In a manner approved by a spider.

And one is a maiden most lovely to see,
Whose colours betoken a splendid degree;
She will make a bonne bouche for the kind of High
Tea
That appeals to the taste of a spider.

But each of the other ones followed a trade,
One served with a needle, one dug with a spade;
And they're all of them greatly abased, and afraid
Of their keeper, and eater, the spider.

When feeding-time comes in the cool of the dew,
I shall sup on a plump but a truculent Jew,
Who, because he is caught, makes a pretty to-do
That provokes all the gorge of a spider.










THE SPIDER 19

When Morning arrives with his forehead of gold,
I may breakfast on hot or may breakfast on cold,
On a lad of last night, on a virgin too bold
Who has tattered the web of the spider.



Boy

Spider, spider, get you away,
Spider, spider, get you away,
Spider, spider, get you away
When I bid you, you nasty old spider!










HIS FIRST PRAYER


GOD bess Favver,


God bess Muvver,


God bess Sisser,


God bess Bruvver,


God bess Uncoo


Out at sea,


God bess all,


An' God bess me!













MUSTARD AND CRESS

ELIZABETH, my cousin, is the sweetest little girl,
From her eyes like dark blue pansies, to her tiniest
golden curl;
I do not use her great long name, but simply call her
Bess,
And yesterday I planted her in mustard and in cress.


My garden is so narrow that there's very little room,
But I'd rather have her name than get a hollyhock to
bloom;
And before she comes to visit us with Charley and with
Jess,
She'll pop up green and bonny out of mustard and of
cress.
























OUT EARLY


I 'M up in the morning, and over the hill,
Searching the hedges that lead to the mill,
With cook's wicker basket (the small one) to fill,
Gathering roses for Auntie.


She's dressing just now, but, of course, little knows
That Tommy, her nephew, is up with the crows,
And, wetting his stockings with dewy drops, goes
Gathering roses for Auntie.


She's sweeter than honey; I love her to come;
She sings in the passages, brightens the home!
It's jolly to jump out of bed and to roam
Gathering roses for Auntie.










OUT EARLY 23

As soon as I 'm back at the cottage, I mean
To sweeten her plate with these buds cool and clean,
For then she will guess that her nephew has been
Gathering roses for Auntie.




























I 'VE a dove for my cote,
You can hear her soft note;
She sits on the slate
And considers her fate.

And I think she agrees
That a life in the trees
With a spouse rather cross
Is no very great loss.

With corn and with bread
She is tenderly fed;
And only her crop
Need compel her to stop.

















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BESSIE 25

I know she is wise,
And there's love in. her eyes
When I fill up her pan
Or replenish her can.

She's softer than silk,
With a breast white as milk;
And mother declares
She would like to go shares.

So next Christmas Day
I shall kiss her, and say
That Bessie (the dove)
Is for her, with my love.


















TIM'S FOXGLOVE


THERE 'S a foxglove, foxglove, foxglove in my garden-
plot,
Home of yellow-belted bees humming round the spot,
Honey-merchants flying fast from out their dumpy
cottages
Crowded in companionship by six elm-trees.

There's a foxglove, foxglove, -foxglove in my pansy-
patch,
Decked so brightly by the rain, there never was its
match;
Made of petals velvety and russet blots and lovely
smells,
Shaking dewy clappers in its peal of bells.

There's a foxglove, foxglove, foxglove in my garden-
ground,
Never mortal listener shall hear its tinkling sound;
When the stars are tired of dancing, when the elves to
dreamland creep,
Why, ev'ry bell's a bedroom where the fairies sleep.


























THE 'LOGICAL GARDENS

OH, look from the window, watch the door;
If he comes round the corner, scream and roar!
For Daddy's going to take us four
On a 'bus to the 'Logical Gardens.

And there the chimpanzee will scratch,
The lions grumble in their patch;
And only fancy! vultures hatch
Their young in the 'Logical Gardens!

We all shall hear the leopards swear
When keepers feed them in their lair-
Let's buy a bun for the frosty bear
On his pole in the 'Logical Gardens.










THE 'LOGICAL GARDENS


Won't baby have to look up high
When elephants go pounding by
With backs right up against the sky
In the beautiful 'Logical Gardens?

And there we're all to have our tea,
Not fifty yards from the chimpanzee,
And boa constrictors close will be
To our cups in the 'Logical Gardens!

And Daddy's promised me and Jake
To stop a keeper and to make
Him show the snake that ate the snake
For his lunch in the 'Logical Gardens.

Apes captured on the Guinea Coast,
And crested parrots in a host-
There's Daddy by the pillar-post!
Hurrah for the 'Logical Gardens!



























THE HAPPY THRUSH

WHEN Spring, with its sunshine and beauty of bud,
Woke a love in his heart and desire in his voice,
A comrade he found,
Of a velvety round,
Whom he courted and won as the bird of his choice.


There's joy and there's pride in the house in the hedge,
For the eggs of last night are a golden-throat clan;
Five children are born
In the thick of the thorn,
And the voluble thrush is a Family Man !






























THE LOST FRIEND


ALL underneath the restless sea
Grief ran along a wire to me:
Children, your tender friend is gone-
Dear Robert Louis Stevenson.



With radiant smiles he reached his hands
To stroke the young of many lands;
Himself a man and boy in one-
Dear Robert Louis Stevenson.











THE LOST FRIEND 31

Since he shall live on children's lips
In tales of treasure and of ships,
What need to raise a tower of stone
For Robert Louis Stevenson ?


Samoa nurses him in flowers,
For ever hers, for ever ours;
Incarnate tune, undying tone,
Dear Robert Louis Stevenson.











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THE MAKESHIFT
TIRED, darling?
Come and rest
That tangled mop
On Auntie's breast!
She does not know
I have, at best,
A make-believe
For mother's breast.
Oh, never was
So sweet a guest
To touch the heart
In Auntie's breast!


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THE MAKESHIFT

My precious bird,
Be this thy nest;
And fall asleep
On Auntie's breast.


C

























CARRYING ANGELA


LEAVING our lodging, I have for a task
The prettiest, surely, an idler could ask-
Carrying Angela down to the beach,
A bundle of prattle, and soft as a peach.

Lazily watching the children, I find
Content for my heart and refreshment of mind,
Making a door in a sandy abode,
Or draining a ditch, or devising a road.

Home then to dinner all laden with shells,
With curious pebbles and flowering bells;
Angela rides me, a mistress most fair,
Her heels at my chest and her fist in my hair,


















ONCE a little round-eyed lad
Determined to be very bad.


He called his porridge nasty pap,
And threw it all in nurse's lap.


His gentle sister's cheek he hurt,
He smudged his pinny in the dirt.


He found the bellows, and he blew
The pet canary right in two!


And when he went to bed at night
He would not say his prayers aright.


This pained a lovely twinkling star
That watched the trouble from afar.


She told her bright-faced friends, and soon
The dreadful rumour reached the moon.










THE BAD BOY


The moon, a gossiping old dame,
Told Father Sun the bad boy's shame.

And then the giant sun began
A very satisfactory plan.

Upon the naughty rebel's face
He would not pour his beamy grace.


He would not stroke the dark-brown strands
With entertaining shiny hands.

The little garden of the boy
Seemed desert, missing heaven's joy.


But all his sister's tulips grew
Magnificent with shine and dew.

Where'er he went he found a shade,
But light was poured upon the maid.

He also lost, by his disgrace,
That indoors sun, his mother's face.

His father sent him up to bed
With neither kiss nor pat for head.











THE BAD BOY


And in his sleep he had such foes,
Bad fairies pinched his curling toes-


They bit his ears, they pulled his hairs,
They threw him three times down the stairs.


O little boys who would not miss
A father's and a mother's kiss,


Who would not cause a sister pain,
Who want the sun to shine again,


Who want sweet beams to tend the plot
Where grows the pet forget-me-not,

Who hate a life of streaming eyes,
Be good, be merry, and be wise.

























CRADLE SONG

BEES are resting sugary thighs,
Stars awake in the evening skies,
Timothy, Timothy, close your eyes,
King of the cradle, sleep.

Sleep, my honey; O sleep, my star,
Dream where the rainbow ribbons are,
Ride with the Queen in the Fairies' car,
King of the cradle, sleep.

Father is tossing upon the sea,
Timothy rocks at home with me;
Weary of trumpet, cannon, and knee,
King of the cradle, sleep.











CRADLE SONG 39

God, whose babes are many and far,
Keep him from craft, and save from war;
Give to my rose from a golden star,
Honey and innocent sleep.



























YOU know when mother came just now to kiss us all
good-night,
She had a lovely necklace on made out of sudden
light;
It's just a string of diamonds, and I lie awake to think
What makes each little creature give that blue and
scarlet wink.


Dick calls them prisoned sunlight, but the sunlight isn't
blue!
I think him very ignorant to talk like that, don't you ?
0 Tommy, wait a moment, for I'm sure I 've really
guessed
What has puzzled all the sages in the east and in the
west.






























































































Atp. 41.


\\~\~~~











DIAMONDS 41

Now listen. Very long ago the fairies told the stones
The gossip of the rivers, and the chat of mountain-
cones;
'But man was never trusted; so a million gems to-
night
Are remembering their secrets, and keep winking with
delight.


























THE SLEEPLESS CHILD


I OFTEN cannot sleep at night,
And have the blind up for the light;
And on the carpet crumbs I put
To tempt the mouse's silky foot.

And then I love to lie and watch
Her feasting in the moonlight patch;
And if I speak she does not stir,
Because she knows I'm fond of her.

When sleep outside my bedroom waits,
The mouse and moon are friendly mates,
And if they come they both are sure
To kiss and frolic on the floor.



























TIM'S GRACE


WHEN Baby Tim, who's very small,
Says grace for me, and Nurse, and Paul,
He asks the Lord to make us all
'Ter-looly fankful.'


And if we laugh till we are red,
Nurse strokes his sandy-coloured head,
And loves him more because he said
'Ter-looly fankful.'


For when he's older, Nursie says,
And grown from all his pretty ways,
She'll often miss his funny phrase,
'Ter-looly fankful.'


o
e
























THE DEW

HARDLY any youngster knows
What the dew is on a rose.

If you children all are nice
I will teach you in a trice.

Long ago when men were sage,
(This was in the Golden Age,)

They were certain lovely-lipped,
Meadow-haunting fairies tripped

Night by night in starlit reels
Practising their fragile heels.

But to-day to hosts and hosts
Fairies are less real than ghosts.









THE DEW


So at night the fairies weep
While the unbelievers sleep;

And, while grieving out of view,
Change their sorrow into dew.

Whence, my children, it appears
There's no salt in fairies' tears !


0































THERE's a gentleman out yonder
Who is sowing early peas;
He puts a line across the ground,
And makes a little trench;
And already in his folly
He is feeling very jolly
As he dreams, of coming dinners,
On his knobby rustic bench.


But my artful pouter pigeons
Take great interest in peas,










LOST LABOUR 47

And they sit devising measures
Which will give that planter pain;
For I'm sure he will be nettled,
When he hears that they have settled,
And are carefully collecting
All those early peas again.

























OFF TO THE SEA


HERE comes the train! Good-bye, Papa! Good-bye,
good-bye to all!
We '11 watch you from the window till your bodies grow
quite small.
They say the engine flies along much faster than a
bee-
We're going down to Sherringham to paddle in the
sea!


Dear Auntie Nell and Nursie, as well as Cousin Mat,
And Noel, grave and chubby, in his ribboned sailor hat,
And Baby, with her merry eyes that sparkle in their
glee-
We're going down to Sherringham to paddle in the
sea!











OFF TO THE SEA 49

O run along, dear Puff-puff, just as hard as you can run,
And eat some coal for luncheon while we have our
currant bun,
For Auntie says if you are fed you'll get us there by
three-
We're going down to Sherringham to paddle in the
sea!




At Cromer we shall find a man to drive a wagonette
Past succory and poppies-how we hope it won't be
wet!
And when we reach our lodgings we shall quickly have
our tea-
We're going down to Sherringham to paddle in the
sea!




I mean to build a castle just as tall as Auntie's head
For the waves to knock to pieces when I'm dreaming
in my bed;
And Noel .says he'll make a house that's taller than a
tree-
We're going down to Sherringham to paddle in the
sea!











50 OFF TO THE SEA

Just see the goosey-gander and the moo-cows by the
brook,
Their sides are marked like those I have at Thetford in
my book.
O Noel, see the piggies, and the coffee-coloured gee!-
We're going down to Sherringham to paddle in the
sea!



And Auntie hopes we'll freckle on our faces, and be
brave,
And not cry when Nursie dips us for a minute in the
wave;
So I mean to be courageous, as a little girl should be-
We're going down to Sherringham to paddle in the
sea!



















SILVERWIG'S SIGHT


THERE'S often a rustling by pansy and
pink,
But what it is rustles I never can
think ;
I hear it and hear it and hear it all day,
And Silverwig says it's the fairies at
play.


r1 _


I-C~h


^>











SILVERWIG'S SIGHT


Now Silverwig's really a very wise boy,
He kisses and strokes the carnations with joy,
And says he can hear all the fairy folks sing
At Puss-in-the-Corner or Kiss-in-the Ring.


. 1


They lurk in Sweet-Williams, they crouch in
the cloves,
They giggle in blooms looking strangely like
gloves;
They bend behind pansies, scarce daring to
wink,
While He searches fuschia and violet and
pink.















In hues of the rainbow they seek and
they hide,
Some peeping from lilies, some curling
inside;
So Silverwig says, and perhaps he is
right,
For never were eyes so enchanted and
bright !






























How you toddle, sweet and willing,
Hair the colour of a shilling,
Here to Mammy!
Running in your crumpled pinny,
Have you just escaped from Jenny,
Silver Sammy?


Now that budded mouth uncloses,
Asking do I want' sum woses,'
Do 'oo, Mammy?'
Never mind. I know some letters
That are worries to your betters,
Silver Sammy !























A THIEF


You naughty, naughty, naughty rogue,
To steal those pretty eggs !
I'm glad to see you pricked your hands
And scratched your wicked legs.
I never thought my chubby son
Would like to join those thieves
Who rob the houses of the birds
Among the thorns and leaves.

These lovely ovals all belong
To nightingales, not you;
Suppose thieves robbed your nursery
Of Rose and Dick and Sue-
Suppose they came when Dad was out,
And found my cosy nest,
Just think of Mother's streaming eyes
And Father's aching breast!











A THIEF


You left the parent birds one egg?
That's little comfort, Mick.
Do you imagine nightingales
Can't do arithmetic?
When robbers steal both you and Rose,
And take you far from here,
Because they leave me Dick and Sue
Shall I not notice, dear ?


We '11 find the cup that held the eggs,
And pop them in again:
Come, darling, let us run with them
To save the birds from pain.
If they are out this afternoon,
I'm sure they soon will come
With eager wings, with sparkling eyes,
To do their evening sum.



































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Atf. 57.

























PLAYING AT PARADISE


SHE called to me with dancing eyes,
'We're both turned out of Paradise;
The Tree of Knowledge was the pear,
That's over in the corner there.


'And, mother dearest, Cousin Jake
Was simply splendid as the snake;
He curved about the trunk ; to hiss
He shot his tongue out, just like this.


'He kicked the branches with his feet,
To knock us down some pears to eat,
And when we tasted them there came
An angel with a sword of flame.











PLAYING AT PARADISE


' Bob was the angel; and he said
We must dig thistles for our bread.
And though we digged with toil and pain,
He'd make the thistles grow again.


'But can he, mother? And he says
The orchard's shut to us for days.
Do come, and make him let us in,
Because we're sorry for our sin.'


I went; and whirling by the gate
A wooden sword about his pate
I found our Bob in angel-wise
Guarding his orchard-paradise.


' Beware the flaming sword !' he cried,
'It turns all ways! Don't come inside!'
'Now, Bob, run in,' I laughing said,
'It's time all angels went to bed.'
















TO SHARP


Now, Sharp, I admit that those troublesome geese
Were the very worst foes for my,
early Spring peas,.,
But I must say I grieve for this '
gander's decease,
You remarkably truculent lurcher.


If dogs have a Prophet, a possible
fact,
He surely prescribes how your kin-
Sdred should act,
S And I feel very certain he advo-
cates tact,
SYou remarkably truculent lurcher.


To pull out a feather or so from behind
Would teach even goslings their manners ,)
to mind;
And a goose to such warnings is never
quite blind,
You remarkably truculent lurcher.











TO SHARP


But chasing a goose to the
shed by the stack,
And killing him there in
that dark cul de sac,
Displays of forgiveness a
terrible lack,
You remarkably trucu-
lent lurcher.



I whistled and shouted till, growing
quite hoarse, C -
I thumped with my stick as a final \ \
resource
But I cannot admit that you showed
much remorse,
You remarkably truculent lurcher.


I ,


Now Farmer Treherne, in a note
cold as frost,
Has sent me a bill for the bird he
has lost;
Nine shillings and sixpence your
butchery cost,
You remarkably truculent
lurcher.











TO SHARP

When honoured next time by a visit from geese,
Allow me to say, and to emphasize, please,
That I really prefer them to damage my peas,
You remarkably truculent lurcher.
















THE THANKFUL BIRD


Now I-yellowhammer-
Desire to give praise
For plentiful orchards
And sunshiny days:
The Spring gave me many
A bud for my bill,
And sent me a sweetheart
From over the hill.

She lent me a rose-bush
Along by the quick,
And there I was minstrel
To mother and chick;
The leaves were our shutters,
The thorns were our bars,
When nested in blossoms
We slept under stars.

Though winter that changes
My music and gold
Is big on the hillside
And brave on the wold,









THE THANKFUL BIRD 63
By Mercy remembered,
By Tenderness fed,
The hedge is my larder,
The hip is my bread.


- i

















THE LOST LAMB

YOUR mother, lamb,
Will not forsake you;
No leering wolf
Shall overtake you.


With other lambs
You frisked, forgetting
Your woolly mother's
Voice and petting.


So now your heart
With fear is beating;
You fill the air
With constant bleating.










THE LOST LAMB
And I am sure
Your mother's crying;
She thinks you lost,
Or dead, or dying.

So stay, my dear,
Both fond and steady,
Where milk and love
Are always ready.


VIRZI
I
n7.)N)




























THREE fairies climbed a rainbow hill;
And two were Jacks, and one a Jill.

Each clambered up a coloured lane,
In pleasure dreaming not of pain.

At last the heavenly beamy belt
Began in lessening love to melt;

Whereat the fairies through the arch
Fell headlong in a wood of larch.

Each, being hurt in leg and arm,
Was carried to a fairies' farm,











THE RAINBOW


Where comrades gave them creamy milk,
And dressed their wounds in softest silk.

A doctor came, who smiled and said,
A rainbow was less safe than bed.

So this the moral you must scan-
Not where you wish, but where you can.


























A QUESTION


HERE on the down where the sea-wind is bleak,
Blowing our voices away as we speak,
Stands the grey shepherd with collie and crook,
Reading the sky as a page from a book.



Sheep to the westward and sheep to the east,
Spindle-legged, shivering, recently fleeced !
Shepherd of ewes looking shameful and sad,
Have you as many as Abraham had ?



































Vi..









~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ t 6g~as &~ll!



























WHEN Aunt Jan's coming there's such romping in the
house,
She's sweeter than a daffodil and softer than a mouse!
She sings about the passages, and never wants to
rest,
And father says it's all because a bird is in her breast.



When Aunt Jan's kissing there's such crowding round
her knees,
Such clambers to her bosom, and such battles for a
squeeze!
We dirty both her snowy cuffs, we trample on her gown,
And sometimes all her yellow hair comes tumbling,
tumbling down.










70 AUNT JAN

When Aunt Jan's dancing we all watch her as she goes,
With in-and-out and round-about upon her shiny toes;
And when her merry breath is tired she stops the fun
and stands
To curtsy saucily to us, or kiss her pretty hands.



When Aunt Jan's playing, the piano seems alive,
With all the notes as busy as the bees are in a hive;
And when it's time for Bedfordshire, as sweetly as a lark
She sings that God is waiting to protect us in the dark.



When Aunt Jan's leaving we are not ashamed to cry,
A-kissing at the station and a-waving her good-bye;
But springtime brings the crocus after winter rain and
frost,
So dear Aunt Jan will come again. She isn't really lost.
























ALL the men of the West are here
With gauntlet, pipeclay, horse, and spear;
All the men of the East are come
With bugle, standard, fife, and drum.



Though each may bluster like a foe,
I do not think much blood will flow;
But every man of the West, at least,
Will stare very hard at the men from the East.



You all remember father's looks
When you have inked his pretty books;
Such stares will pierce each scarlet breast,
And stab the hearts of the men from the West.










72 EAST AND WEST

If they are wise they will delight
In peace, for only sillies fight:
'Tis best that they should take the train
For home and mother's kiss again.

























THE VIOLIN


VIOLET, Mary, Dick, come in !
Daddy's taken the violin;
And he's going to play for you and me
The tune of the Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee !


He's tucked the fiddle under his chin,
He says he's ready to begin;
And when Dundee has ridden away
He '11 fiddle us over the Emerald Bay!

He'll trip us into County Clare,
And dance us over the Bridge of the Air.
Violet, Mary, Dick, come in !
Daddy's taken the violin !
















A LULLABY


SLEEP, my angels, side by side
Till the morrow's coming,
Till the rosebuds open wide
At the brown bees' humming;


Angel rosebuds, dream and wait
Till the sun is peeping
At my maid and at her mate,
Rosebud angels, sleeping.


!1:! I\M \



























Now the babies are in bed,
Seraphina, you can rest;
You can lick that furry fist,
Wash that snowy breast.




Little time those cherubs give
For a cleanly habit's scope,
S'Kitten using neither sponge,
: Water-jug, nor soap.


~8-~0~~











SERAPHINA


When you want refreshment,
puss,
Run along with tabby face,
Dip moustaches in the milk,
Softly purring grace.



'
I,'\


Singing then melodious lo
Voice your satisfaction dee
Till the friendly food and I
Make you go to sleep























WHY, Mother, it surely is time
That Timothy here was transplanted
To a sheety and blanket clime,
Where his presence is, more or less, wanted.

I admit he's an angel, of course,
But I wish that your rules were more drastic;
I object, as a fatherly horse,
To a bit of uncleanly elastic.

He has fashioned and fixed at my ears
Ridiculous papery blinkers,
And I 'm sure my condition appears
Sufficiently foolish to thinkers.

As another inducement, I urge
That his driving's distinctly immoral,
All affectionate feeling I merge
When he thumps on my head with his coral.











A PROTEST


Moreover, my study's too small
To allow of superb demivolting,
So I think (there will be a great squall!)
Of unseating my rider, and bolting !

To be spurred by a pin is too bad;
I prefer to be driver, not driven-
Yes, dearest, I know that the lad
Is a cherub levanted from Heaven,

But since he intends to remain
In our semi-detached little mansion,
I think, to avoid future pain,
We should govern his moral expansion.

So ring for the nursemaid, my dear,
(Tim, Tim, make an end of that screaming !)
For the cherub must now disappear
To his tub, to his blankets and dreaming.




























OVER all the world I '11 tramp
Till I find Aladdin's Lamp :
When I have it, I shall keep
In my rabbit-hutch, asleep,

Black of hair and bright of eye,
Willing at my slightest cry,
Quick to vanish, big and brave,
Such a Genie for my slave!

Then if any robbers come,
Searching in our sleepy home,
Tho' the silver spoons they take,
I shan't worry when I wake.










80 ALADDIN'S LAMP

Anything that mother wants
Must be fetched from farthest haunts,
Sinbad's valley, plain or hill,
For the Genie has the skill.


Mother says that Persia's rose
Sweetens more than Europe knows,
So, of course, my slave will run
Picking out the finest one !






















OFF TO AFRICA

THE cuckoos of the neighbourhood are meeting in the
park,
They mean to journey leagues away before the day falls
dark.
Oh, sweet their stay in England, and the music from their
beak,
But now they flit to Africa, because their chests are weak.

In counties such as Warwick, if they wintered they
would die,
Speckled children of the sunbeam in a bluer, brighter
sky;
But they visit us in springtime just to fly about and
speak,
Ere they point away, to Africa, because their chests are
weak.
F


&4 :-! 4 2 --











82 OFF TO AFRICA

Though they treat the hedge-birds badly, we forgive
them for their note,
For their mellow bar of beauty, for their finely feathered
coat;
They are parents of an order not affectionate, nor
meek,
These cuckoos bound for Africa, because their chests
are weak.

Though they fly away from England over many a weary
mile,
They love our caterpillars and they like our cosy isle.
These gentlemen in feathers, with their ladies fair and
fleet,
When Spring is green, will travel here to call across the
wheat.

So at parting we God-speed them with no reprehend-
ing word,
Dear guests for our civility-there goes the pilot bird !
Farewell till wood-anemones are friendly by the creek-
We spare you all for Africa, because your chests are
weak.









'AIRIES iifIN' FACES


I LIKE to sit on Daddy's knee,
And watch the fairy in his face,
That always has a smile for me,
And never wanders from her place.

And mother says the eyes of Joy
Will make a thousand faces shine,
When Love can spare each little boy
A father half as sweet as mine.


-Tfiif


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