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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 05:17:32 -0700
committerRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 05:17:32 -0700
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?>
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+<!DOCTYPE html
+ PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+ "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+ <head>
+ <title>
+ Songs for Parents, by John Farrar
+ </title>
+ <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+ body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+ P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+ H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+ hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+ .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+ blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+ .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+ .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+ .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;}
+ div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+ div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+ .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+ .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+ .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+ margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+ text-align: right;}
+ pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+ </head>
+ <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Songs for Parents
+
+Author: John Farrar
+
+Release Date: November 7, 2008 [EBook #1664]
+Last Updated: January 26, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS FOR PARENTS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Stewart A. Levin, Curtis Farrar, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h1>
+ SONGS FOR PARENTS
+ </h1>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ By John Farrar
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Dedication
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Here's a rhyme for Barbara,
+ Laughing white and pink,
+ Here's a rhyme for smiling Ted,
+ And one for Wink.
+
+ Now Dick's not much at reading rhymes,
+ He'd rather sit and fish.
+ Well here's a couple of verses, Dick,
+ Read them if you wish!
+ </pre>
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <blockquote>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> Dedication </a>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>SONGS OF DESIRE</b> </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#linksummer"> Summer Explorer </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> Spring Wish </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> Ambition </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> Dreams </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> Water-Lily </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> Humor </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> Independence </a>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> <b>SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS</b> </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> A Comparison </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> Speculation </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> Parade </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> Flower Preferences </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> Parental Advice </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> Song for a Child Watching Clouds </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> Problem </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> Garden Musings </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> My Garden </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> Tracks </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> Chanticleer </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> Rainbow </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> Windmill </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> Cat-Fish </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> Visiting </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> Castles </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> Parenthood </a>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> <b>SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE</b> </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> Moral Song </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> Serious Omission </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> Choice </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> Natural Fireworks </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> Conspiracy </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> Cuckoo Clock </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> The Sentinel </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> Royalty </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> Crackers </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> The Drum </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> Theatricals </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> Sally </a>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> <b>SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE</b> </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> Bundles </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> The Candy Santa Claus </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> The Tinsel Star </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> The Ambitious Mouse </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0045"> Prayer </a>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0046"> About the author: </a>
+ </p>
+ </blockquote>
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ SONGS OF DESIRE
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <a name="linksummer" id="linksummer"></a>
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ Summer Explorer
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I'd like to be a gypsy
+ With gold rings in my ears,
+ Along the road to sit and sing,
+ And not do another thing
+ For years and years;
+
+ A road to dream upon by day,
+ A fire for dreams at night,
+ Free to wander far away,
+ Free to shout and free to play,
+ Quite impolite.
+
+ I'd pitch my tent beside a wall,
+ All apple trees within,
+ And if the apples didn't fall,
+ I wouldn't hesitate at all.
+ I'd climb&mdash;and sin!
+
+ But if the weather wasn't fine,
+ If all the world were rain,
+ If there weren't anywhere to dine
+ And goose-flesh quivered up my spine&mdash;
+ I <i>might</i> come home again!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Spring Wish
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ A frog's a very happy thing,
+ Cool and green in early spring,
+ Quick and silver through the pool,
+ With no thought of books or school.
+
+ Oh, I want to be a frog,
+ Sunning, stretching on a log,
+ Blinking there in splendid ease,
+ Swimming naked when I please,
+ Nosing into magic nooks,
+ Quiet marshes, noisy brooks.
+
+ Free! And fit for anything!
+ Oh, to be a frog in spring!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Ambition
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If I were a rocket
+ Shot high across the night,
+ I'd rather burst in silver stars
+ Than green or purple light;
+
+ For then, perhaps, I'd fool the moon,
+ Although she's very wise,
+ And thinking me a baby star
+ She'd keep me in the skies.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Dreams
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I'd like to dream my own dreams,
+ Instead of dreaming those
+ The silly sandman brings along
+ Like moving picture shows.
+
+ I'd like to dream of palaces,
+ Of magic meadowlands,
+ Of silver gates and golden thrones
+ And chanting fairy bands;
+
+ Of seas of spraying jewels,
+ Of dancing crystal ships,
+ Of the queen of all the elves herself&mdash;
+ Two rubies for her lips;
+
+ But, alas! I never dream such things,
+ And when I jump and wake
+ As an oozy ogre clutches me&mdash;
+ It's just a stomach ache!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Water-Lily
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I'd like to be a water-lily sleeping on the river,
+ Where solemn rushes whisper, and funny ripples quiver.
+ All day I'd watch the blue sky&mdash;all night I'd watch the black,
+ Floating in the soft waves, dreaming on my back,
+ And when I'd tired of dreaming, I'd call a passing fish,
+ "I want to find the sea!" I'd shout, "Come! You can grant my wish!"
+
+ He'd bite me from my moorings, and softly I would slip
+ To the center of the river like an ocean-going ship.
+ The waves would laugh upon me. The wind would blow me fast,
+ And oh, what shores and wonders would greet me as I passed!
+ Yes, if I were a water-lily, I'd sail to sea in state&mdash;
+ A green frog for my captain&mdash;and a dragon-fly for mate!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Humor
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Have you ever watched the clowns at play,
+ White, red and black on circus day?
+ They're always very, very gay.
+ I wonder how they stay that way!
+
+ I'd like to be a clown,
+ Playing tricks around the town,
+ Turning somersaults and springs,
+ As if they were easy things,
+ Laughing morning, noon and night,
+ Being such a funny sight!
+
+ Do you think, then, I'd grow tired of fun,
+ Laughing so from sun to sun?
+ Or, when performances are done,
+ Do clown-folk cry like anyone?
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Independence
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I like to go out in the night
+ When there's neither a sound nor a light,
+ With my hands and feet bare,
+ And the wind in my hair,
+ Not a nurse nor a parent in sight;
+
+ But only the night, moon and me
+ As I dance in the dew joyfully,
+ Quite daring and bold
+ For there's no one to scold,
+ Because there is no one to see.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ A Comparison
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Apple blossoms look like snow,
+ They're different, though.
+ Snow falls softly, but it brings
+ Noisy things:
+ Sleighs and bells, forts and fights,
+ Cosy nights.
+
+ But apple blossoms when they go,
+ White and slow,
+ Quiet all the orchard space,
+ Till the place
+ Hushed with falling sweetness seems
+ Filled with dreams.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Speculation
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I wonder if God sits alone
+ Upon the highest mountain stone
+ To stir the clouds and drop the rain,
+ And then to pick it up again.
+
+ I wonder if he sends the brooks
+ Foaming from their distant nooks,
+ And, sitting there in robes of gray,
+ Turns rivers on at break of day.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Parade
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The scarlet trumpet flowers are gay
+ And yet they never seem to play,
+ They never trumpet up the dawn
+ Nor blow retreat across the lawn.
+
+ But oh, to-day I heard a strain,
+ A happy, martial, quick refrain,
+ As down across the garden grass
+ I saw the marching flowers pass:
+
+ Gaudy phlox and flaunting rose,
+ Stiff and straight and on their toes,
+ And, blaring from the garden wall,
+ The trumpet flower led them all.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Flower Preferences
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If I were a tiny fairy
+ With nothing else to do
+ But to wriggle into flowers
+ All the long day through,
+
+ I'd dance among the roses,
+ I'd take a stately walk,
+ Balancing precisely
+ On an Easter-lily stalk.
+
+ For play I'd choose the jonquils,
+ For swimming, poppy cups,
+ For jokes and tricks and tiny naps,
+ The Johnny-jump-ups!
+
+ But on some quiet evening,
+ I'd leave my fairy band,
+ And on a star-flower through the sky
+ I'd sail to fairyland.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Parental Advice
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Who laid the egg that hatched the moon?
+ Was it the earth, I wonder,
+ Was it the sun, the clouds, or rain,
+ Was it night or thunder?
+
+ If I were mother to the moon
+ I'd spank her every day
+ Until she learned to stay at home
+ And <i>never</i> run away!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Song for a Child Watching Clouds
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I've watched the clouds by day and night,
+ Great fleecy ones all filled with light,
+ Gray beasts that steal across the sky,
+ And little fellows slipping by.
+
+ Sometimes they seem like sheep at play,
+ Sometimes when they are dull and gray
+ The pale sun seems a ship to me,
+ Sailing through a rolling sea;
+
+ And I've seen faces in them too,
+ Funny white men on the blue,
+ They look so many different ways,
+ And not one single cloudlet stays;
+
+ But on across the heavens they blow,
+ I often wonder where they go,
+ Now sometime, maybe when I die,
+ I, too, will wander through the sky.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Problem
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If I were a violet I'd think it a shame
+ To be always so simple and modest and tame,
+ To be hidden away like a hermit or nun
+ While the hare-brained pink roses can dance in the sun!
+ But consider the naughty wild ways of the rose&mdash;
+ There <i>must</i> be <i>respectable</i> flowers, I suppose!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Garden Musings
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Why is the lily so stately and still?
+ Why doesn't she dance like the gay daffodil?
+ Why doesn't she blush like the rose or the pink,
+ Or, like mischievous pansy, indulge in a wink?
+ Do you think it's because she is holier than they,
+ Or did God just decide he would make her that way?
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ My Garden
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ My garden was silly and stubborn;
+ I worked, but the weeds worked, too;
+ I dug and scraped and scrambled&mdash;
+ They hustled themselves and grew;
+
+ Now Ted's garden's fine and cleanly,
+ He has lettuce and roses and peas&mdash;
+ Oh, most probably plants are like children&mdash;
+ They only behave when they please!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Tracks
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I wonder where the rabbits go
+ Who leave their tracks across the snow;
+ For when I follow to their den
+ The tracks always start out again.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Chanticleer
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ High and proud on the barnyard fence
+ Walks rooster in the morning.
+ He shakes his comb, he shakes his tail
+ And gives his daily warning.
+
+ "Get up, you lazy boys and girls,
+ It's time you should be dressing!"
+ I wonder if he keeps a clock,
+ Or if he's only guessing.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Rainbow
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The rainbow comes across the hill,
+ It shines upon the sky, until
+ It frightens all the tears from rain,
+ And then it hides itself again.
+
+ Now when I'm very tired of play
+ I'll cross that rainbow bridge some day;
+ And while dear nurse and father scold,
+ I'll reach the end&mdash;and find the gold!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Windmill
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The windmill stands up like a flower on the hill
+ With its petals a-whirling&mdash;they seldom stay still&mdash;
+ And its funny old voice creaking all the long day
+ As it scolds little breezes for running away.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Cat-Fish
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The cat-fish with whiskers that lives in the brook,
+ Is an ugly old beast with the wickedest look.
+ I suppose there were mouse-fish one time in brook town
+ Till that ugly old cat-fish gulped all of them down.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Visiting
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ You and I shall travel far,
+ We'll pass the old earth by,
+ We'll ride the moon and drive a star
+ Across the evening sky.
+
+ We'll flash upon the milky way
+ To pay Dame Night a call&mdash;
+ But should we happen on old Day&mdash;
+ We'd fall and fall and fall.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Castles
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I used to build me castles of moisty sand and shells,
+ And dream they were for princesses who wove me magic spells;
+ But yesterday along the beach my fairy princess came&mdash;
+ And she's too big for castles&mdash;now isn't that a shame!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Parenthood
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The birches that dance on the top of the hill
+ Are so slender and young that they cannot keep still,
+ They bend and they nod at each whiff of a breeze,
+ For you see they are still just the children of trees.
+
+ But the birches below in the valley are older,
+ They are calmer and straighter and taller and colder.
+ Perhaps when we've grown up as solemn and grave,
+ We, too, will have children who do not behave!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Moral Song
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Oh, so cool
+ In his deep green pool
+ Was a frog on a log one day!
+ He would blink his eyes
+ As he snapped at flies,
+ For his mother was away,
+ <i>For his mother was away!</i>
+
+ Now that naughty frog
+ Left his own home log
+ And started out to play.
+ He flipped and he flopped
+ And he never stopped
+ Till he reached the great blue bay,
+ <i>Till he reached the great blue bay!</i>
+
+ Alas, with a swish
+ Came a mighty fish,
+ And swallowed him where he lay.
+ Now it's things like this
+ That never miss
+ Little frogs who don't obey,
+ <i>Little frogs who don't obey!</i>
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Serious Omission
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I know that there are dragons,
+ St. George's, Jason's, too,
+ And many modern dragons
+ With scales of green and blue;
+
+ But though I've been there many times
+ And carefully looked through,
+ I can't find a dragon
+ In the cages at the zoo!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Choice
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If I had just one penny
+ On the Fourth of July,
+ Oh, what a problem it would be
+ To think what I should buy!
+
+ With lollypops and fire-works,
+ With cakes and whiz-bangs, too,
+ With tops and candy cigarettes,
+ Whatever should I do?
+
+ Torpedoes have a splendid noise,
+ But noise is quickly past,
+ And the sweetness of a lollypop
+ Is something that will last.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Natural Fireworks
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The fireflies in the valley
+ Are having their display
+ Among the river willows
+ Like little bits of day!
+
+ Come, light your silver sparkler
+ And wave it in the air.
+ Go dance among the willows
+ And sprinkle sparkles there.
+
+ Then, oh, the world will wonder
+ To see the willows shine,
+ And even the fireflies will not know
+ Their tiny sparks from mine.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Conspiracy
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The sun has a face that is laughing and red
+ When nurse pulls me out in the morning from bed;
+ But he's not half so sly as the silly old moon,
+ Who winks when I'm sent to my bedroom too soon.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Cuckoo Clock
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The cuckoo in the clock by day
+ Is usually very gay;
+ And that's because, with people near,
+ There's not a thing for him to fear;
+
+ But when the sitting room is dim
+ And no one's there to welcome him&mdash;
+ How tremblingly he must come out
+ To flap his wings and look about.
+
+ Why! Only just the other night
+ The cuckoo stopped the clock from fright!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ The Sentinel
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I'm only a little toy dough-boy,
+ And I have neither sorrows nor fears;
+ But I patiently wait,
+ With my gun pointed straight
+ And my helmet pulled down on my ears.
+
+ The ugly wood lions and tigers
+ May show their white teeth if they please,
+ If the whole Noah's ark
+ Should threaten and bark
+ It wouldn't unstiffen my knees.
+
+ And some day when you are a soldier
+ With your helmet pulled down on your ears
+ I'll still be as straight
+ As I wonder and wait,
+ Standing my watch through the years.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Royalty
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If I should meet a king or queen
+ Upon the street some day,
+ Do you think that I'd be frightened?
+ Why, I'd know just what to say.
+
+ "Your reverend majesties," I'd say,
+ And humbly bow the knee,
+ "I am your very humble swain,
+ And will you honor me?"
+
+ The king would strike my shoulder
+ With a sword of passing might,
+ He'd lift me grandly to my feet,
+ He'd say, "Arise, O Knight!"
+
+ Oh, I would not be frightened,
+ For I've seen kings galore,
+ Don't you think it's just to learn of them
+ That playing cards are for?
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Crackers
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Oh, there are very many kinds
+ Of crackers, great and small,
+ Saltines and ginger-snaps and such,
+ I'd like to eat them all;
+
+ But there's a kind of cracker
+ That I <i>need much worse,</i>
+ A bright red giant cracker
+ To set off under nurse!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ The Drum
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ The drum's a very quiet fellow
+ When he's left alone;
+ But oh, how he does roar and bellow,
+ Rattle, snap and groan,
+ Clatter, spatter, dash and patter,
+ Rumble, shriek and moan
+ Whene'er I take my sticks in hand
+ And beat him soundly for the band.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Theatricals
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Now I'll play at being queen,
+ Hold my head quite stiff and haughty,
+ Always proud and never naughty,
+ Sweeping grandly down the green.
+
+ Or I'll be a moonlight fairy,
+ Bobbing lightly on the river,
+ Dancing where the shadows quiver,
+ Winged and shining, swift and wary.
+
+ If the doctor thinks I'm sick,
+ He's just silly. <i>I am not!</i>
+ I'm just tired and very hot,
+ Hating drink that's sweet and thick.
+
+ Flowers dance across the walls,
+ Mother's face seems far away,
+ She's the audience, I'm the play,
+ She will clap for curtain calls.
+
+ No!&mdash;I do not want to play!
+ Seven thrones around my bed,
+ Circling gold about my head&mdash;
+ Angels always fly away!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Sally
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If I were a stately sailboat,
+ I'd sail to Zanzibar,
+ I'd sail the seven secret seas,
+ Where the secret cities are,
+ And some day I'd be sailing with the wind before my prow,
+ And all the mermaids of the sea would clamber up the bow.
+ They'd beckon me with laughter,
+ They'd beckon me with smiles,
+ They'd show me cakes and candies
+ In half a dozen styles,
+ They'd promise me a life of ease
+ Eating sweets beneath the seas,
+ They'd promise me a life of play&mdash;
+ A never ending holiday;
+ But I would say quite plainly,
+ And, oh, how stern I'd look!
+ Do you think that you can tempt me
+ While Sally is our cook?
+
+ If I were a little fire balloon
+ I'd float aloft to Mars,
+ I'd pay a call on Venus
+ And chatter with the stars,
+ And just as I'd be fluttering across the yellow moon,
+ The angels would come singing a solemn Sunday tune.
+ They'd beckon to me gravely,
+ They'd tell me I could stay,
+ They'd show me all the jewels
+ That pave the milky way.
+ They'd promise me a golden crown
+ And silver robes like eider-down,
+ They'd give me harps with shiny strings
+ And wonderfully fluffy wings;
+ BUT&mdash;I would tell them plainly
+ I didn't want to die&mdash;
+ Till all the angel cooks had learned
+ How Sally makes mince pie!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Bundles
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ A bundle is a funny thing,
+ It always sets me wondering;
+ For whether it is thin or wide
+ You never know just what's inside.
+
+ Especially on Christmas week,
+ Temptation is so great to peek!
+ Now wouldn't it be much more fun
+ If shoppers carried things undone?
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ The Candy Santa Claus
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I'm very fond of candles
+ With their quaint coquettish way,
+ But alas! I wooed too often,
+ And now my life's to pay.
+
+ They knew I was important
+ When they decked the Christmas tree,
+ Yes, they hung me on the tip-top
+ For all the world to see.
+
+ But, alas! A lady candle
+ Has come with me to the top,
+ And I'm melting with affection,
+ I'm dying drop by drop.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ The Tinsel Star
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ I'm just a shiny tinsel star,
+ Boxed all the time as such things are,
+ And only used just once a year,
+ Oh, life is very dull and drear!
+
+ A real star has far fields to roam,
+ A tinsel star must stay at home.
+ It is a terrible vexation
+ To be a silly imitation!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ The Ambitious Mouse
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ If all the world were candy
+ And the sky were frosted cake,
+ Oh, it would be a splendid job
+ For a mouse to undertake!
+
+ To eat a path of sweetmeats
+ Through candy forest aisles&mdash;
+ Explore the land of Pepper-mint
+ Stretched out for miles and miles.
+
+ To gobble up a cloudlet,
+ A little cup-cake star,
+ To swim a lake of liquid sweet
+ With shores of chocolate bar.
+
+ But, best of all the eating,
+ Would be the toothsome fat,
+ Triumphant hour of mouse-desire,
+ To eat a candy cat!
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0045" id="link2H_4_0045">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ Prayer
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ Last night I crept across the snow,
+ Where only tracking rabbits go,
+ And then I waited quite alone
+ Until the Christmas radiance shone!
+
+ At midnight twenty angels came,
+ Each white and shining like a flame.
+ At midnight twenty angels sang,
+ The stars swung out like bells and rang.
+
+ They lifted me across the hill,
+ They bore me in their arms until
+ A greater glory greeted them.
+ It was the town of Bethlehem.
+
+ And gently, then, they set me down,
+ All worshipping that holy town,
+ And gently, then, they bade me raise
+ My head to worship and to praise.
+
+ And gently, then, the Christ smiled down.
+ Ah, there was glory in that town!
+ It was as if the world were free
+ And glistening with purity.
+
+ And in that vault of crystal blue,
+ It was as if the world were new,
+ And myriad angels, file on file,
+ Glorified in the Christ-child's smile.
+
+ It was so beautiful to see
+ Such glory, for a child like me,
+ So beautiful, it does not seem
+ It could have been a Christmas dream.
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0046" id="link2H_4_0046">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ About the author:
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ John Chipman Farrar (1896-1974), late of the New York publishing firm of
+ Farrar, Straus and Giroux, attended Yale University where his poem
+ "Portraits" was the Yale University Prize Poem in 1916. After serving
+ during the First World War as an intelligence officer with the U.S. Air
+ Service, Farrar returned to Yale and graduated in 1919. His first book
+ "Forgotten Shrines" was published late that same year as the second volume
+ of the Yale Series of Younger Poets, reprinted in 1971, over half a
+ century later.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ After graduation, Farrar turned to publishing and literary criticism,
+ editing George H. Doran Company's periodical "The Bookman". Between 1927
+ and 1929, Farrar was editor at Doubleday, Doran and Company. In mid- 1929,
+ he and two sons of the famous mystery writer Mary Robert Rinehart started
+ the publishing firm if Farrar and Rinehart, Inc. His connection with that
+ firm lasted until 1945, although he was absent during the war years
+ assisting in U.S. government psychological war efforts. Farrar and
+ Rinehart was later absorbed by Henry Holt.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As a young editor in New York, Farrar volunteered in 1922 for the
+ organizing committee of an American chapter of PEN (originally Poets,
+ Essayists and Novelists) founded in England the year before by Sappho (Amy
+ Dawson Scott) to foster support of visiting foreign writers. PEN grew
+ quickly to become an international advocate for freedom of expression and
+ continues its activism to this day. (See http://www.pen.org)
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ After the Second World War, the American chapter of PEN foundered for lack
+ of direction. Farrar, co-principal of the newly formed publishing house of
+ Farrar, Straus and Company, now Farrar, Straus and Giroux, stepped in to
+ refocus its energies and recruit dozens of new members. He served as
+ president twice, once from 1951-1953 and again from 1963-1965.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In his roles as both and editor and a publisher, Farrar had a lasting
+ impact on literature through the years. Farrar, Straus &amp; Giroux has
+ published many Nobel Laureates (20 as of 1995) and dozens of distinguished
+ poets and authors. It is my privilege to reprint this etext of some of his
+ own work for posterity.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &mdash;Stewart A. Levin
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS FOR PARENTS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 1664-h.htm or 1664-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+ http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/1664/
+
+Produced by Stewart A. Levin, Curtis Farrar, and David Widger
+
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+</pre>
+ </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/1664.txt b/1664.txt
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--- /dev/null
+++ b/1664.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Songs for Parents
+
+Author: John Farrar
+
+Posting Date: November 7, 2008 [EBook #1664]
+Release Date: March, 1999
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS FOR PARENTS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Stewart A. Levin, and Curtis Farrar
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FOR PARENTS
+
+By John Farrar
+
+
+
+
+Dedication
+
+
+ Here's a rhyme for Barbara,
+ Laughing white and pink,
+ Here's a rhyme for smiling Ted,
+ And one for Wink.
+
+ Now Dick's not much at reading rhymes,
+ He'd rather sit and fish.
+ Well here's a couple of verses, Dick,
+ Read them if you wish!
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+
+ Dedication
+
+
+ SONGS OF DESIRE
+
+ Summer Explorer
+ Spring Wish
+ Ambition
+ Dreams
+ Water-Lily
+ Humor
+ Independence
+
+
+ SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
+
+ A Comparison
+ Speculation
+ Parade
+ Flower Preferences
+ Parental Advice
+ Song for a Child Watching Clouds
+ Problem
+ Garden Musings
+ My Garden
+ Tracks
+ Chanticleer
+ Rainbow
+ Windmill
+ Cat-Fish
+ Visiting
+ Castles
+ Parenthood
+
+
+ SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE
+
+ Moral Song
+ Serious Omission
+ Choice
+ Natural Fireworks
+ Conspiracy
+ Cuckoo Clock
+ The Sentinel
+ Royalty
+ Crackers
+ The Drum
+ Theatricals
+ Sally
+
+
+ SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE
+
+ Bundles
+ The Candy Santa Claus
+ The Tinsel Star
+ The Ambitious Mouse
+ Prayer
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF DESIRE
+
+
+
+
+Summer Explorer
+
+
+ I'd like to be a gypsy
+ With gold rings in my ears,
+ Along the road to sit and sing,
+ And not do another thing
+ For years and years;
+
+ A road to dream upon by day,
+ A fire for dreams at night,
+ Free to wander far away,
+ Free to shout and free to play,
+ Quite impolite.
+
+ I'd pitch my tent beside a wall,
+ All apple trees within,
+ And if the apples didn't fall,
+ I wouldn't hesitate at all.
+ I'd climb--and sin!
+
+ But if the weather wasn't fine,
+ If all the world were rain,
+ If there weren't anywhere to dine
+ And goose-flesh quivered up my spine--
+ I _might_ come home again!
+
+
+
+
+Spring Wish
+
+
+ A frog's a very happy thing,
+ Cool and green in early spring,
+ Quick and silver through the pool,
+ With no thought of books or school.
+
+ Oh, I want to be a frog,
+ Sunning, stretching on a log,
+ Blinking there in splendid ease,
+ Swimming naked when I please,
+ Nosing into magic nooks,
+ Quiet marshes, noisy brooks.
+
+ Free! And fit for anything!
+ Oh, to be a frog in spring!
+
+
+
+
+Ambition
+
+
+ If I were a rocket
+ Shot high across the night,
+ I'd rather burst in silver stars
+ Than green or purple light;
+
+ For then, perhaps, I'd fool the moon,
+ Although she's very wise,
+ And thinking me a baby star
+ She'd keep me in the skies.
+
+
+
+
+Dreams
+
+
+ I'd like to dream my own dreams,
+ Instead of dreaming those
+ The silly sandman brings along
+ Like moving picture shows.
+
+ I'd like to dream of palaces,
+ Of magic meadowlands,
+ Of silver gates and golden thrones
+ And chanting fairy bands;
+
+ Of seas of spraying jewels,
+ Of dancing crystal ships,
+ Of the queen of all the elves herself--
+ Two rubies for her lips;
+
+ But, alas! I never dream such things,
+ And when I jump and wake
+ As an oozy ogre clutches me--
+ It's just a stomach ache!
+
+
+
+
+Water-Lily
+
+
+ I'd like to be a water-lily sleeping on the river,
+ Where solemn rushes whisper, and funny ripples quiver.
+ All day I'd watch the blue sky--all night I'd watch the black,
+ Floating in the soft waves, dreaming on my back,
+ And when I'd tired of dreaming, I'd call a passing fish,
+ "I want to find the sea!" I'd shout, "Come! You can grant my wish!"
+
+ He'd bite me from my moorings, and softly I would slip
+ To the center of the river like an ocean-going ship.
+ The waves would laugh upon me. The wind would blow me fast,
+ And oh, what shores and wonders would greet me as I passed!
+ Yes, if I were a water-lily, I'd sail to sea in state--
+ A green frog for my captain--and a dragon-fly for mate!
+
+
+
+
+Humor
+
+
+ Have you ever watched the clowns at play,
+ White, red and black on circus day?
+ They're always very, very gay.
+ I wonder how they stay that way!
+
+ I'd like to be a clown,
+ Playing tricks around the town,
+ Turning somersaults and springs,
+ As if they were easy things,
+ Laughing morning, noon and night,
+ Being such a funny sight!
+
+ Do you think, then, I'd grow tired of fun,
+ Laughing so from sun to sun?
+ Or, when performances are done,
+ Do clown-folk cry like anyone?
+
+
+
+
+Independence
+
+
+ I like to go out in the night
+ When there's neither a sound nor a light,
+ With my hands and feet bare,
+ And the wind in my hair,
+ Not a nurse nor a parent in sight;
+
+ But only the night, moon and me
+ As I dance in the dew joyfully,
+ Quite daring and bold
+ For there's no one to scold,
+ Because there is no one to see.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
+
+
+
+
+A Comparison
+
+
+ Apple blossoms look like snow,
+ They're different, though.
+ Snow falls softly, but it brings
+ Noisy things:
+ Sleighs and bells, forts and fights,
+ Cosy nights.
+
+ But apple blossoms when they go,
+ White and slow,
+ Quiet all the orchard space,
+ Till the place
+ Hushed with falling sweetness seems
+ Filled with dreams.
+
+
+
+
+Speculation
+
+
+ I wonder if God sits alone
+ Upon the highest mountain stone
+ To stir the clouds and drop the rain,
+ And then to pick it up again.
+
+ I wonder if he sends the brooks
+ Foaming from their distant nooks,
+ And, sitting there in robes of gray,
+ Turns rivers on at break of day.
+
+
+
+
+Parade
+
+
+ The scarlet trumpet flowers are gay
+ And yet they never seem to play,
+ They never trumpet up the dawn
+ Nor blow retreat across the lawn.
+
+ But oh, to-day I heard a strain,
+ A happy, martial, quick refrain,
+ As down across the garden grass
+ I saw the marching flowers pass:
+
+ Gaudy phlox and flaunting rose,
+ Stiff and straight and on their toes,
+ And, blaring from the garden wall,
+ The trumpet flower led them all.
+
+
+
+
+Flower Preferences
+
+
+ If I were a tiny fairy
+ With nothing else to do
+ But to wriggle into flowers
+ All the long day through,
+
+ I'd dance among the roses,
+ I'd take a stately walk,
+ Balancing precisely
+ On an Easter-lily stalk.
+
+ For play I'd choose the jonquils,
+ For swimming, poppy cups,
+ For jokes and tricks and tiny naps,
+ The Johnny-jump-ups!
+
+ But on some quiet evening,
+ I'd leave my fairy band,
+ And on a star-flower through the sky
+ I'd sail to fairyland.
+
+
+
+
+Parental Advice
+
+
+ Who laid the egg that hatched the moon?
+ Was it the earth, I wonder,
+ Was it the sun, the clouds, or rain,
+ Was it night or thunder?
+
+ If I were mother to the moon
+ I'd spank her every day
+ Until she learned to stay at home
+ And _never_ run away!
+
+
+
+
+Song for a Child Watching Clouds
+
+
+ I've watched the clouds by day and night,
+ Great fleecy ones all filled with light,
+ Gray beasts that steal across the sky,
+ And little fellows slipping by.
+
+ Sometimes they seem like sheep at play,
+ Sometimes when they are dull and gray
+ The pale sun seems a ship to me,
+ Sailing through a rolling sea;
+
+ And I've seen faces in them too,
+ Funny white men on the blue,
+ They look so many different ways,
+ And not one single cloudlet stays;
+
+ But on across the heavens they blow,
+ I often wonder where they go,
+ Now sometime, maybe when I die,
+ I, too, will wander through the sky.
+
+
+
+
+Problem
+
+
+ If I were a violet I'd think it a shame
+ To be always so simple and modest and tame,
+ To be hidden away like a hermit or nun
+ While the hare-brained pink roses can dance in the sun!
+ But consider the naughty wild ways of the rose--
+ There _must_ be _respectable_ flowers, I suppose!
+
+
+
+
+Garden Musings
+
+
+ Why is the lily so stately and still?
+ Why doesn't she dance like the gay daffodil?
+ Why doesn't she blush like the rose or the pink,
+ Or, like mischievous pansy, indulge in a wink?
+ Do you think it's because she is holier than they,
+ Or did God just decide he would make her that way?
+
+
+
+
+My Garden
+
+
+ My garden was silly and stubborn;
+ I worked, but the weeds worked, too;
+ I dug and scraped and scrambled--
+ They hustled themselves and grew;
+
+ Now Ted's garden's fine and cleanly,
+ He has lettuce and roses and peas--
+ Oh, most probably plants are like children--
+ They only behave when they please!
+
+
+
+
+Tracks
+
+
+ I wonder where the rabbits go
+ Who leave their tracks across the snow;
+ For when I follow to their den
+ The tracks always start out again.
+
+
+
+
+Chanticleer
+
+
+ High and proud on the barnyard fence
+ Walks rooster in the morning.
+ He shakes his comb, he shakes his tail
+ And gives his daily warning.
+
+ "Get up, you lazy boys and girls,
+ It's time you should be dressing!"
+ I wonder if he keeps a clock,
+ Or if he's only guessing.
+
+
+
+
+Rainbow
+
+
+ The rainbow comes across the hill,
+ It shines upon the sky, until
+ It frightens all the tears from rain,
+ And then it hides itself again.
+
+ Now when I'm very tired of play
+ I'll cross that rainbow bridge some day;
+ And while dear nurse and father scold,
+ I'll reach the end--and find the gold!
+
+
+
+
+Windmill
+
+
+ The windmill stands up like a flower on the hill
+ With its petals a-whirling--they seldom stay still--
+ And its funny old voice creaking all the long day
+ As it scolds little breezes for running away.
+
+
+
+
+Cat-Fish
+
+
+ The cat-fish with whiskers that lives in the brook,
+ Is an ugly old beast with the wickedest look.
+ I suppose there were mouse-fish one time in brook town
+ Till that ugly old cat-fish gulped all of them down.
+
+
+
+
+Visiting
+
+
+ You and I shall travel far,
+ We'll pass the old earth by,
+ We'll ride the moon and drive a star
+ Across the evening sky.
+
+ We'll flash upon the milky way
+ To pay Dame Night a call--
+ But should we happen on old Day--
+ We'd fall and fall and fall.
+
+
+
+
+Castles
+
+
+ I used to build me castles of moisty sand and shells,
+ And dream they were for princesses who wove me magic spells;
+ But yesterday along the beach my fairy princess came--
+ And she's too big for castles--now isn't that a shame!
+
+
+
+
+Parenthood
+
+
+ The birches that dance on the top of the hill
+ Are so slender and young that they cannot keep still,
+ They bend and they nod at each whiff of a breeze,
+ For you see they are still just the children of trees.
+
+ But the birches below in the valley are older,
+ They are calmer and straighter and taller and colder.
+ Perhaps when we've grown up as solemn and grave,
+ We, too, will have children who do not behave!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE
+
+
+
+
+
+Moral Song
+
+
+ Oh, so cool
+ In his deep green pool
+ Was a frog on a log one day!
+ He would blink his eyes
+ As he snapped at flies,
+ For his mother was away,
+ _For his mother was away!_
+
+ Now that naughty frog
+ Left his own home log
+ And started out to play.
+ He flipped and he flopped
+ And he never stopped
+ Till he reached the great blue bay,
+ _Till he reached the great blue bay!_
+
+ Alas, with a swish
+ Came a mighty fish,
+ And swallowed him where he lay.
+ Now it's things like this
+ That never miss
+ Little frogs who don't obey,
+ _Little frogs who don't obey!_
+
+
+
+
+Serious Omission
+
+
+ I know that there are dragons,
+ St. George's, Jason's, too,
+ And many modern dragons
+ With scales of green and blue;
+
+ But though I've been there many times
+ And carefully looked through,
+ I can't find a dragon
+ In the cages at the zoo!
+
+
+
+
+Choice
+
+
+ If I had just one penny
+ On the Fourth of July,
+ Oh, what a problem it would be
+ To think what I should buy!
+
+ With lollypops and fire-works,
+ With cakes and whiz-bangs, too,
+ With tops and candy cigarettes,
+ Whatever should I do?
+
+ Torpedoes have a splendid noise,
+ But noise is quickly past,
+ And the sweetness of a lollypop
+ Is something that will last.
+
+
+
+
+Natural Fireworks
+
+
+ The fireflies in the valley
+ Are having their display
+ Among the river willows
+ Like little bits of day!
+
+ Come, light your silver sparkler
+ And wave it in the air.
+ Go dance among the willows
+ And sprinkle sparkles there.
+
+ Then, oh, the world will wonder
+ To see the willows shine,
+ And even the fireflies will not know
+ Their tiny sparks from mine.
+
+
+
+
+Conspiracy
+
+
+ The sun has a face that is laughing and red
+ When nurse pulls me out in the morning from bed;
+ But he's not half so sly as the silly old moon,
+ Who winks when I'm sent to my bedroom too soon.
+
+
+
+
+Cuckoo Clock
+
+
+ The cuckoo in the clock by day
+ Is usually very gay;
+ And that's because, with people near,
+ There's not a thing for him to fear;
+
+ But when the sitting room is dim
+ And no one's there to welcome him--
+ How tremblingly he must come out
+ To flap his wings and look about.
+
+ Why! Only just the other night
+ The cuckoo stopped the clock from fright!
+
+
+
+
+The Sentinel
+
+
+ I'm only a little toy dough-boy,
+ And I have neither sorrows nor fears;
+ But I patiently wait,
+ With my gun pointed straight
+ And my helmet pulled down on my ears.
+
+ The ugly wood lions and tigers
+ May show their white teeth if they please,
+ If the whole Noah's ark
+ Should threaten and bark
+ It wouldn't unstiffen my knees.
+
+ And some day when you are a soldier
+ With your helmet pulled down on your ears
+ I'll still be as straight
+ As I wonder and wait,
+ Standing my watch through the years.
+
+
+
+
+Royalty
+
+
+ If I should meet a king or queen
+ Upon the street some day,
+ Do you think that I'd be frightened?
+ Why, I'd know just what to say.
+
+ "Your reverend majesties," I'd say,
+ And humbly bow the knee,
+ "I am your very humble swain,
+ And will you honor me?"
+
+ The king would strike my shoulder
+ With a sword of passing might,
+ He'd lift me grandly to my feet,
+ He'd say, "Arise, O Knight!"
+
+ Oh, I would not be frightened,
+ For I've seen kings galore,
+ Don't you think it's just to learn of them
+ That playing cards are for?
+
+
+
+
+Crackers
+
+
+ Oh, there are very many kinds
+ Of crackers, great and small,
+ Saltines and ginger-snaps and such,
+ I'd like to eat them all;
+
+ But there's a kind of cracker
+ That I _need much worse,_
+ A bright red giant cracker
+ To set off under nurse!
+
+
+
+
+The Drum
+
+
+ The drum's a very quiet fellow
+ When he's left alone;
+ But oh, how he does roar and bellow,
+ Rattle, snap and groan,
+ Clatter, spatter, dash and patter,
+ Rumble, shriek and moan
+ Whene'er I take my sticks in hand
+ And beat him soundly for the band.
+
+
+
+
+Theatricals
+
+
+ Now I'll play at being queen,
+ Hold my head quite stiff and haughty,
+ Always proud and never naughty,
+ Sweeping grandly down the green.
+
+ Or I'll be a moonlight fairy,
+ Bobbing lightly on the river,
+ Dancing where the shadows quiver,
+ Winged and shining, swift and wary.
+
+ If the doctor thinks I'm sick,
+ He's just silly. _I am not!_
+ I'm just tired and very hot,
+ Hating drink that's sweet and thick.
+
+ Flowers dance across the walls,
+ Mother's face seems far away,
+ She's the audience, I'm the play,
+ She will clap for curtain calls.
+
+ No!--I do not want to play!
+ Seven thrones around my bed,
+ Circling gold about my head--
+ Angels always fly away!
+
+
+
+
+Sally
+
+
+ If I were a stately sailboat,
+ I'd sail to Zanzibar,
+ I'd sail the seven secret seas,
+ Where the secret cities are,
+ And some day I'd be sailing with the wind before my prow,
+ And all the mermaids of the sea would clamber up the bow.
+ They'd beckon me with laughter,
+ They'd beckon me with smiles,
+ They'd show me cakes and candies
+ In half a dozen styles,
+ They'd promise me a life of ease
+ Eating sweets beneath the seas,
+ They'd promise me a life of play--
+ A never ending holiday;
+ But I would say quite plainly,
+ And, oh, how stern I'd look!
+ Do you think that you can tempt me
+ While Sally is our cook?
+
+ If I were a little fire balloon
+ I'd float aloft to Mars,
+ I'd pay a call on Venus
+ And chatter with the stars,
+ And just as I'd be fluttering across the yellow moon,
+ The angels would come singing a solemn Sunday tune.
+ They'd beckon to me gravely,
+ They'd tell me I could stay,
+ They'd show me all the jewels
+ That pave the milky way.
+ They'd promise me a golden crown
+ And silver robes like eider-down,
+ They'd give me harps with shiny strings
+ And wonderfully fluffy wings;
+ BUT--I would tell them plainly
+ I didn't want to die--
+ Till all the angel cooks had learned
+ How Sally makes mince pie!
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE
+
+
+
+
+Bundles
+
+
+ A bundle is a funny thing,
+ It always sets me wondering;
+ For whether it is thin or wide
+ You never know just what's inside.
+
+ Especially on Christmas week,
+ Temptation is so great to peek!
+ Now wouldn't it be much more fun
+ If shoppers carried things undone?
+
+
+
+
+The Candy Santa Claus
+
+
+ I'm very fond of candles
+ With their quaint coquettish way,
+ But alas! I wooed too often,
+ And now my life's to pay.
+
+ They knew I was important
+ When they decked the Christmas tree,
+ Yes, they hung me on the tip-top
+ For all the world to see.
+
+ But, alas! A lady candle
+ Has come with me to the top,
+ And I'm melting with affection,
+ I'm dying drop by drop.
+
+
+
+
+The Tinsel Star
+
+
+ I'm just a shiny tinsel star,
+ Boxed all the time as such things are,
+ And only used just once a year,
+ Oh, life is very dull and drear!
+
+ A real star has far fields to roam,
+ A tinsel star must stay at home.
+ It is a terrible vexation
+ To be a silly imitation!
+
+
+
+
+The Ambitious Mouse
+
+
+ If all the world were candy
+ And the sky were frosted cake,
+ Oh, it would be a splendid job
+ For a mouse to undertake!
+
+ To eat a path of sweetmeats
+ Through candy forest aisles--
+ Explore the land of Pepper-mint
+ Stretched out for miles and miles.
+
+ To gobble up a cloudlet,
+ A little cup-cake star,
+ To swim a lake of liquid sweet
+ With shores of chocolate bar.
+
+ But, best of all the eating,
+ Would be the toothsome fat,
+ Triumphant hour of mouse-desire,
+ To eat a candy cat!
+
+
+
+
+Prayer
+
+
+ Last night I crept across the snow,
+ Where only tracking rabbits go,
+ And then I waited quite alone
+ Until the Christmas radiance shone!
+
+ At midnight twenty angels came,
+ Each white and shining like a flame.
+ At midnight twenty angels sang,
+ The stars swung out like bells and rang.
+
+ They lifted me across the hill,
+ They bore me in their arms until
+ A greater glory greeted them.
+ It was the town of Bethlehem.
+
+ And gently, then, they set me down,
+ All worshipping that holy town,
+ And gently, then, they bade me raise
+ My head to worship and to praise.
+
+ And gently, then, the Christ smiled down.
+ Ah, there was glory in that town!
+ It was as if the world were free
+ And glistening with purity.
+
+ And in that vault of crystal blue,
+ It was as if the world were new,
+ And myriad angels, file on file,
+ Glorified in the Christ-child's smile.
+
+ It was so beautiful to see
+ Such glory, for a child like me,
+ So beautiful, it does not seem
+ It could have been a Christmas dream.
+
+
+
+
+About the author:
+
+
+John Chipman Farrar (1896-1974), late of the New York publishing firm of
+Farrar, Straus and Giroux, attended Yale University where his poem
+"Portraits" was the Yale University Prize Poem in 1916. After serving
+during the First World War as an intelligence officer with the U.S. Air
+Service, Farrar returned to Yale and graduated in 1919. His first book
+"Forgotten Shrines" was published late that same year as the second
+volume of the Yale Series of Younger Poets, reprinted in 1971, over half
+a century later.
+
+After graduation, Farrar turned to publishing and literary criticism,
+editing George H. Doran Company's periodical "The Bookman". Between 1927
+and 1929, Farrar was editor at Doubleday, Doran and Company. In mid-
+1929, he and two sons of the famous mystery writer Mary Robert Rinehart
+started the publishing firm if Farrar and Rinehart, Inc. His connection
+with that firm lasted until 1945, although he was absent during the war
+years assisting in U.S. government psychological war efforts. Farrar
+and Rinehart was later absorbed by Henry Holt.
+
+As a young editor in New York, Farrar volunteered in 1922 for the
+organizing committee of an American chapter of PEN (originally Poets,
+Essayists and Novelists) founded in England the year before by Sappho
+(Amy Dawson Scott) to foster support of visiting foreign writers. PEN
+grew quickly to become an international advocate for freedom of
+expression and continues its activism to this day. (See
+http://www.pen.org)
+
+After the Second World War, the American chapter of PEN foundered for
+lack of direction. Farrar, co-principal of the newly formed publishing
+house of Farrar, Straus and Company, now Farrar, Straus and Giroux,
+stepped in to refocus its energies and recruit dozens of new members. He
+served as president twice, once from 1951-1953 and again from 1963-1965.
+
+In his roles as both and editor and a publisher, Farrar had a lasting
+impact on literature through the years. Farrar, Straus & Giroux has
+published many Nobel Laureates (20 as of 1995) and dozens of
+distinguished poets and authors. It is my privilege to reprint this
+etext of some of his own work for posterity.
+
+--Stewart A. Levin
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS FOR PARENTS ***
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+*Project Gutenberg's Etext of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar*
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+Songs for Parents
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+March, 1999 [Etext #1664]
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+
+
+
+
+Songs for Parents
+
+By John Farrar
+
+
+
+
+Dedication
+
+
+
+
+Here's a rhyme for Barbara,
+ Laughing white and pink,
+Here's a rhyme for smiling Ted,
+ And one for Wink.
+
+Now Dick's not much at reading rhymes,
+ He'd rather sit and fish.
+Well here's a couple of verses, Dick,
+ Read them if you wish!
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+
+Dedication
+
+
+SONGS OF DESIRE
+
+Summer Explorer
+Spring Wish
+Ambition
+Dreams
+Water-Lily
+Humor
+Independence
+
+
+SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
+
+A Comparison
+Speculation
+Parade
+Flower Preferences
+Parental Advice
+Song for a Child Watching Clouds
+Problem
+Garden Musings
+My Garden
+Tracks
+Chanticleer
+Rainbow
+Windmill
+Cat-Fish
+Visiting
+Castles
+Parenthood
+
+
+SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE
+
+Moral Song
+Serious Omission
+Choice
+Natural Fireworks
+Conspiracy
+Cuckoo Clock
+The Sentinel
+Royalty
+Crackers
+The Drum
+Theatricals
+Sally
+
+
+SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE
+
+Bundles
+The Candy Santa Claus
+The Tinsel Star
+The Ambitious Mouse
+Prayer
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF DESIRE
+
+
+
+
+Summer Explorer
+
+
+I'd like to be a gypsy
+With gold rings in my ears,
+Along the road to sit and sing,
+And not do another thing
+For years and years;
+
+A road to dream upon by day,
+A fire for dreams at night,
+Free to wander far away,
+Free to shout and free to play,
+Quite impolite.
+
+I'd pitch my tent beside a wall,
+All apple trees within,
+And if the apples didn't fall,
+I wouldn't hesitate at all.
+I'd climb--and sin!
+
+But if the weather wasn't fine,
+If all the world were rain,
+If there weren't anywhere to dine
+And goose-flesh quivered up my spine--
+I _might_ come home again!
+
+
+
+Spring Wish
+
+
+A frog's a very happy thing,
+Cool and green in early spring,
+Quick and silver through the pool,
+With no thought of books or school.
+
+Oh, I want to be a frog,
+Sunning, stretching on a log,
+Blinking there in splendid ease,
+Swimming naked when I please,
+Nosing into magic nooks,
+Quiet marshes, noisy brooks.
+
+Free! And fit for anything!
+Oh, to be a frog in spring!
+
+
+
+Ambition
+
+
+If I were a rocket
+Shot high across the night,
+I'd rather burst in silver stars
+Than green or purple light;
+
+For then, perhaps, I'd fool the moon,
+Although she's very wise,
+And thinking me a baby star
+She'd keep me in the skies.
+
+
+
+Dreams
+
+
+I'd like to dream my own dreams,
+Instead of dreaming those
+The silly sandman brings along
+Like moving picture shows.
+
+I'd like to dream of palaces,
+Of magic meadowlands,
+Of silver gates and golden thrones
+And chanting fairy bands;
+
+Of seas of spraying jewels,
+Of dancing crystal ships,
+Of the queen of all the elves herself--
+Two rubies for her lips;
+
+But, alas! I never dream such things,
+And when I jump and wake
+As an oozy ogre clutches me--
+It's just a stomach ache!
+
+
+
+Water-Lily
+
+
+I'd like to be a water-lily sleeping on the river,
+Where solemn rushes whisper, and funny ripples quiver.
+All day I'd watch the blue sky--all night I'd watch the black,
+Floating in the soft waves, dreaming on my back,
+And when I'd tired of dreaming, I'd call a passing fish,
+"I want to find the sea!" I'd shout, "Come! You can grant my wish!"
+
+He'd bite me from my moorings, and softly I would slip
+To the center of the river like an ocean-going ship.
+The waves would laugh upon me. The wind would blow me fast,
+And oh, what shores and wonders would greet me as I passed!
+Yes, if I were a water-lily, I'd sail to sea in state--
+A green frog for my captain--and a dragon-fly for mate!
+
+
+
+Humor
+
+
+Have you ever watched the clowns at play,
+White, red and black on circus day?
+They're always very, very gay.
+I wonder how they stay that way!
+
+I'd like to be a clown,
+Playing tricks around the town,
+Turning somersaults and springs,
+As if they were easy things,
+Laughing morning, noon and night,
+Being such a funny sight!
+
+Do you think, then, I'd grow tired of fun,
+Laughing so from sun to sun?
+Or, when performances are done,
+Do clown-folk cry like anyone?
+
+
+
+Independence
+
+
+I like to go out in the night
+When there's neither a sound nor a light,
+With my hands and feet bare,
+And the wind in my hair,
+Not a nurse nor a parent in sight;
+
+But only the night, moon and me
+As I dance in the dew joyfully,
+Quite daring and bold
+For there's no one to scold,
+Because there is no one to see.
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
+
+
+
+
+A Comparison
+
+
+Apple blossoms look like snow,
+They're different, though.
+Snow falls softly, but it brings
+Noisy things:
+Sleighs and bells, forts and fights,
+Cosy nights.
+
+But apple blossoms when they go,
+White and slow,
+Quiet all the orchard space,
+Till the place
+Hushed with falling sweetness seems
+Filled with dreams.
+
+
+
+Speculation
+
+
+I wonder if God sits alone
+Upon the highest mountain stone
+To stir the clouds and drop the rain,
+And then to pick it up again.
+
+I wonder if he sends the brooks
+Foaming from their distant nooks,
+And, sitting there in robes of gray,
+Turns rivers on at break of day.
+
+
+
+Parade
+
+
+The scarlet trumpet flowers are gay
+And yet they never seem to play,
+They never trumpet up the dawn
+Nor blow retreat across the lawn.
+
+But oh, to-day I heard a strain,
+A happy, martial, quick refrain,
+As down across the garden grass
+I saw the marching flowers pass:
+
+Gaudy phlox and flaunting rose,
+Stiff and straight and on their toes,
+And, blaring from the garden wall,
+The trumpet flower led them all.
+
+
+
+Flower Preferences
+
+
+If I were a tiny fairy
+ With nothing else to do
+But to wriggle into flowers
+ All the long day through,
+
+I'd dance among the roses,
+ I'd take a stately walk,
+Balancing precisely
+ On an Easter-lily stalk.
+
+For play I'd choose the jonquils,
+ For swimming, poppy cups,
+For jokes and tricks and tiny naps,
+ The Johnny-jump-ups!
+
+But on some quiet evening,
+ I'd leave my fairy band,
+And on a star-flower through the sky
+ I'd sail to fairyland.
+
+
+
+Parental Advice
+
+
+Who laid the egg that hatched the moon?
+Was it the earth, I wonder,
+Was it the sun, the clouds, or rain,
+Was it night or thunder?
+
+If I were mother to the moon
+I'd spank her every day
+Until she learned to stay at home
+And _never_ run away!
+
+
+
+Song for a Child Watching Clouds
+
+
+I've watched the clouds by day and night,
+Great fleecy ones all filled with light,
+Gray beasts that steal across the sky,
+And little fellows slipping by.
+
+Sometimes they seem like sheep at play,
+Sometimes when they are dull and gray
+The pale sun seems a ship to me,
+Sailing through a rolling sea;
+
+And I've seen faces in them too,
+Funny white men on the blue,
+They look so many different ways,
+And not one single cloudlet stays;
+
+But on across the heavens they blow,
+I often wonder where they go,
+Now sometime, maybe when I die,
+I, too, will wander through the sky.
+
+
+
+Problem
+
+
+If I were a violet I'd think it a shame
+To be always so simple and modest and tame,
+To be hidden away like a hermit or nun
+While the hare-brained pink roses can dance in the sun!
+But consider the naughty wild ways of the rose--
+There _must_ be _respectable_ flowers, I suppose!
+
+
+
+Garden Musings
+
+
+Why is the lily so stately and still?
+Why doesn't she dance like the gay daffodil?
+Why doesn't she blush like the rose or the pink,
+Or, like mischievous pansy, indulge in a wink?
+Do you think it's because she is holier than they,
+Or did God just decide he would make her that way?
+
+
+
+My Garden
+
+
+My garden was silly and stubborn;
+ I worked, but the weeds worked, too;
+I dug and scraped and scrambled--
+ They hustled themselves and grew;
+
+Now Ted's garden's fine and cleanly,
+ He has lettuce and roses and peas--
+Oh, most probably plants are like children--
+ They only behave when they please!
+
+
+
+Tracks
+
+
+I wonder where the rabbits go
+Who leave their tracks across the snow;
+For when I follow to their den
+The tracks always start out again.
+
+
+
+Chanticleer
+
+
+High and proud on the barnyard fence
+Walks rooster in the morning.
+He shakes his comb, he shakes his tail
+And gives his daily warning.
+
+"Get up, you lazy boys and girls,
+It's time you should be dressing!"
+I wonder if he keeps a clock,
+Or if he's only guessing.
+
+
+
+Rainbow
+
+
+The rainbow comes across the hill,
+It shines upon the sky, until
+It frightens all the tears from rain,
+And then it hides itself again.
+
+Now when I'm very tired of play
+I'll cross that rainbow bridge some day;
+And while dear nurse and father scold,
+I'll reach the end--and find the gold!
+
+
+
+Windmill
+
+
+The windmill stands up like a flower on the hill
+With its petals a-whirling--they seldom stay still--
+And its funny old voice creaking all the long day
+As it scolds little breezes for running away.
+
+
+
+Cat-Fish
+
+
+The cat-fish with whiskers that lives in the brook,
+Is an ugly old beast with the wickedest look.
+I suppose there were mouse-fish one time in brook town
+Till that ugly old cat-fish gulped all of them down.
+
+
+
+Visiting
+
+
+You and I shall travel far,
+We'll pass the old earth by,
+We'll ride the moon and drive a star
+Across the evening sky.
+
+We'll flash upon the milky way
+To pay Dame Night a call--
+But should we happen on old Day--
+We'd fall and fall and fall.
+
+
+
+Castles
+
+
+I used to build me castles of moisty sand and shells,
+And dream they were for princesses who wove me magic spells;
+But yesterday along the beach my fairy princess came--
+And she's too big for castles--now isn't that a shame!
+
+
+
+Parenthood
+
+
+The birches that dance on the top of the hill
+Are so slender and young that they cannot keep still,
+They bend and they nod at each whiff of a breeze,
+For you see they are still just the children of trees.
+
+But the birches below in the valley are older,
+They are calmer and straighter and taller and colder.
+Perhaps when we've grown up as solemn and grave,
+We, too, will have children who do not behave!
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE
+
+
+
+
+Moral Song
+
+
+Oh, so cool
+In his deep green pool
+Was a frog on a log one day!
+He would blink his eyes
+As he snapped at flies,
+ For his mother was away,
+ _For his mother was away!_
+
+Now that naughty frog
+Left his own home log
+And started out to play.
+He flipped and he flopped
+And he never stopped
+ Till he reached the great blue bay,
+ _Till he reached the great blue bay!_
+
+Alas, with a swish
+Came a mighty fish,
+And swallowed him where he lay.
+Now it's things like this
+That never miss
+ Little frogs who don't obey,
+ _Little frogs who don't obey!_
+
+
+
+Serious Omission
+
+
+I know that there are dragons,
+St. George's, Jason's, too,
+And many modern dragons
+With scales of green and blue;
+
+But though I've been there many times
+And carefully looked through,
+I can't find a dragon
+In the cages at the zoo!
+
+
+
+Choice
+
+
+If I had just one penny
+ On the Fourth of July,
+Oh, what a problem it would be
+ To think what I should buy!
+
+With lollypops and fire-works,
+ With cakes and whiz-bangs, too,
+With tops and candy cigarettes,
+ Whatever should I do?
+
+Torpedoes have a splendid noise,
+ But noise is quickly past,
+And the sweetness of a lollypop
+ Is something that will last.
+
+
+
+Natural Fireworks
+
+
+The fireflies in the valley
+Are having their display
+Among the river willows
+Like little bits of day!
+
+Come, light your silver sparkler
+And wave it in the air.
+Go dance among the willows
+And sprinkle sparkles there.
+
+Then, oh, the world will wonder
+To see the willows shine,
+And even the fireflies will not know
+Their tiny sparks from mine.
+
+
+
+Conspiracy
+
+
+The sun has a face that is laughing and red
+When nurse pulls me out in the morning from bed;
+But he's not half so sly as the silly old moon,
+Who winks when I'm sent to my bedroom too soon.
+
+
+
+Cuckoo Clock
+
+
+The cuckoo in the clock by day
+Is usually very gay;
+And that's because, with people near,
+There's not a thing for him to fear;
+
+But when the sitting room is dim
+And no one's there to welcome him--
+How tremblingly he must come out
+To flap his wings and look about.
+
+Why! Only just the other night
+The cuckoo stopped the clock from fright!
+
+
+
+The Sentinel
+
+
+I'm only a little toy dough-boy,
+And I have neither sorrows nor fears;
+But I patiently wait,
+With my gun pointed straight
+And my helmet pulled down on my ears.
+
+The ugly wood lions and tigers
+May show their white teeth if they please,
+If the whole Noah's ark
+Should threaten and bark
+It wouldn't unstiffen my knees.
+
+And some day when you are a soldier
+With your helmet pulled down on your ears
+I'll still be as straight
+As I wonder and wait,
+Standing my watch through the years.
+
+
+
+Royalty
+
+
+If I should meet a king or queen
+Upon the street some day,
+Do you think that I'd be frightened?
+Why, I'd know just what to say.
+
+"Your reverend majesties," I'd say,
+And humbly bow the knee,
+"I am your very humble swain,
+And will you honor me?"
+
+The king would strike my shoulder
+With a sword of passing might,
+He'd lift me grandly to my feet,
+He'd say, "Arise, O Knight!"
+
+Oh, I would not be frightened,
+For I've seen kings galore,
+Don't you think it's just to learn of them
+That playing cards are for?
+
+
+
+Crackers
+
+
+Oh, there are very many kinds
+Of crackers, great and small,
+Saltines and ginger-snaps and such,
+I'd like to eat them all;
+
+But there's a kind of cracker
+That I _need much worse,_
+A bright red giant cracker
+To set off under nurse!
+
+
+
+The Drum
+
+
+The drum's a very quiet fellow
+When he's left alone;
+But oh, how he does roar and bellow,
+Rattle, snap and groan,
+Clatter, spatter, dash and patter,
+Rumble, shriek and moan
+Whene'er I take my sticks in hand
+And beat him soundly for the band.
+
+
+
+Theatricals
+
+
+Now I'll play at being queen,
+ Hold my head quite stiff and haughty,
+ Always proud and never naughty,
+Sweeping grandly down the green.
+
+Or I'll be a moonlight fairy,
+ Bobbing lightly on the river,
+ Dancing where the shadows quiver,
+Winged and shining, swift and wary.
+
+If the doctor thinks I'm sick,
+ He's just silly. _I am not!_
+ I'm just tired and very hot,
+Hating drink that's sweet and thick.
+
+Flowers dance across the walls,
+ Mother's face seems far away,
+ She's the audience, I'm the play,
+She will clap for curtain calls.
+
+No!--I do not want to play!
+ Seven thrones around my bed,
+ Circling gold about my head--
+Angels always fly away!
+
+
+
+Sally
+
+
+If I were a stately sailboat,
+I'd sail to Zanzibar,
+I'd sail the seven secret seas,
+Where the secret cities are,
+And some day I'd be sailing with the wind before my prow,
+And all the mermaids of the sea would clamber up the bow.
+They'd beckon me with laughter,
+They'd beckon me with smiles,
+They'd show me cakes and candies
+In half a dozen styles,
+They'd promise me a life of ease
+Eating sweets beneath the seas,
+They'd promise me a life of play--
+A never ending holiday;
+But I would say quite plainly,
+And, oh, how stern I'd look!
+Do you think that you can tempt me
+While Sally is our cook?
+
+If I were a little fire balloon
+I'd float aloft to Mars,
+I'd pay a call on Venus
+And chatter with the stars,
+And just as I'd be fluttering across the yellow moon,
+The angels would come singing a solemn Sunday tune.
+They'd beckon to me gravely,
+They'd tell me I could stay,
+They'd show me all the jewels
+That pave the milky way.
+They'd promise me a golden crown
+And silver robes like eider-down,
+They'd give me harps with shiny strings
+And wonderfully fluffy wings;
+BUT--I would tell them plainly
+I didn't want to die--
+Till all the angel cooks had learned
+How Sally makes mince pie!
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE
+
+
+
+
+Bundles
+
+
+A bundle is a funny thing,
+It always sets me wondering;
+For whether it is thin or wide
+You never know just what's inside.
+
+Especially on Christmas week,
+Temptation is so great to peek!
+Now wouldn't it be much more fun
+If shoppers carried things undone?
+
+
+
+The Candy Santa Claus
+
+
+I'm very fond of candles
+With their quaint coquettish way,
+But alas! I wooed too often,
+And now my life's to pay.
+
+They knew I was important
+When they decked the Christmas tree,
+Yes, they hung me on the tip-top
+For all the world to see.
+
+But, alas! A lady candle
+Has come with me to the top,
+And I'm melting with affection,
+I'm dying drop by drop.
+
+
+
+The Tinsel Star
+
+
+I'm just a shiny tinsel star,
+Boxed all the time as such things are,
+And only used just once a year,
+Oh, life is very dull and drear!
+
+A real star has far fields to roam,
+A tinsel star must stay at home.
+It is a terrible vexation
+To be a silly imitation!
+
+
+
+The Ambitious Mouse
+
+
+If all the world were candy
+And the sky were frosted cake,
+Oh, it would be a splendid job
+For a mouse to undertake!
+
+To eat a path of sweetmeats
+Through candy forest aisles--
+Explore the land of Pepper-mint
+Stretched out for miles and miles.
+
+To gobble up a cloudlet,
+A little cup-cake star,
+To swim a lake of liquid sweet
+With shores of chocolate bar.
+
+But, best of all the eating,
+Would be the toothsome fat,
+Triumphant hour of mouse-desire,
+To eat a candy cat!
+
+
+
+Prayer
+
+
+Last night I crept across the snow,
+Where only tracking rabbits go,
+And then I waited quite alone
+Until the Christmas radiance shone!
+
+At midnight twenty angels came,
+Each white and shining like a flame.
+At midnight twenty angels sang,
+The stars swung out like bells and rang.
+
+They lifted me across the hill,
+They bore me in their arms until
+A greater glory greeted them.
+It was the town of Bethlehem.
+
+And gently, then, they set me down,
+All worshipping that holy town,
+And gently, then, they bade me raise
+My head to worship and to praise.
+
+And gently, then, the Christ smiled down.
+Ah, there was glory in that town!
+It was as if the world were free
+And glistening with purity.
+
+And in that vault of crystal blue,
+It was as if the world were new,
+And myriad angels, file on file,
+Glorified in the Christ-child's smile.
+
+It was so beautiful to see
+Such glory, for a child like me,
+So beautiful, it does not seem
+It could have been a Christmas dream.
+
+
+
+
+
+About the author:
+
+
+John Chipman Farrar (1896-1974), late of the longtime New York
+publishing firm of Farrar, Straus and Giroux, attended Yale University,
+where his poem "Portraits" won the Yale University Prize Poem in 1916.
+In 1919 his "Forgotten Shrines" won critical acclaim and was to be
+reprinted half a century later.
+
+After graduation, John turned to publishing and literary criticism,
+editing George H. Doran Company's "The Bookman". In 1922,
+Farrar volunteered for the organizing committee of an American
+chapter of PEN (originally Poets, Essayists and Novelist) founded in
+England the year before by Sappho (Amy Dawson Scott) to foster support
+of visiting foreign writers. PEN grew quickly to an international advocacy
+for freedom of expression and continues its activism to this day.
+(See http://www.pen.org)
+
+After the Second World War, the American chapter foundered for lack
+of direction and John Farrar, principal of the newly formed publishing
+house of Farrar, Straus & Company, stepped in to refocus its energies
+and recruit dozens of new members. He served as president twice,
+once from 1951-1953 and again from 1963-1965.
+
+Farrar's roles as both and editor and a publisher have had a lasting
+impact on literature through the years. Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc.
+has numbered several Nobel Laureates and dozens of distinguished poets
+and authors among its offerings. It is my privilege to reprint this
+etext of some of his work for posterity.
+
+
+- Stewart A. Levin
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar
+
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+*Project Gutenberg's Etext of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar*
+
+
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+Songs for Parents
+
+by John Farrar
+
+March, 1999 [Etext #1664]
+
+
+*Project Gutenberg's Etext of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar*
+******This file should be named sfpar11.txt or sfpar11.zip******
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, sfpar12.txt.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, sfpar10a.txt.
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+This Etext was prepared by Stewart A. Levin of Englewood CO with
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+
+
+
+
+
+This Etext was prepared by Stewart A. Levin of Englewood CO with
+additional biographical information provided by Curtis Farrar of
+Washington, D.C.
+
+
+
+
+
+Songs for Parents
+
+By John Farrar
+
+
+
+
+Dedication
+
+
+
+
+Here's a rhyme for Barbara,
+ Laughing white and pink,
+Here's a rhyme for smiling Ted,
+ And one for Wink.
+
+Now Dick's not much at reading rhymes,
+ He'd rather sit and fish.
+Well here's a couple of verses, Dick,
+ Read them if you wish!
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+
+Dedication
+
+
+SONGS OF DESIRE
+
+Summer Explorer
+Spring Wish
+Ambition
+Dreams
+Water-Lily
+Humor
+Independence
+
+
+SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
+
+A Comparison
+Speculation
+Parade
+Flower Preferences
+Parental Advice
+Song for a Child Watching Clouds
+Problem
+Garden Musings
+My Garden
+Tracks
+Chanticleer
+Rainbow
+Windmill
+Cat-Fish
+Visiting
+Castles
+Parenthood
+
+
+SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE
+
+Moral Song
+Serious Omission
+Choice
+Natural Fireworks
+Conspiracy
+Cuckoo Clock
+The Sentinel
+Royalty
+Crackers
+The Drum
+Theatricals
+Sally
+
+
+SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE
+
+Bundles
+The Candy Santa Claus
+The Tinsel Star
+The Ambitious Mouse
+Prayer
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF DESIRE
+
+
+
+
+Summer Explorer
+
+
+I'd like to be a gypsy
+With gold rings in my ears,
+Along the road to sit and sing,
+And not do another thing
+For years and years;
+
+A road to dream upon by day,
+A fire for dreams at night,
+Free to wander far away,
+Free to shout and free to play,
+Quite impolite.
+
+I'd pitch my tent beside a wall,
+All apple trees within,
+And if the apples didn't fall,
+I wouldn't hesitate at all.
+I'd climb--and sin!
+
+But if the weather wasn't fine,
+If all the world were rain,
+If there weren't anywhere to dine
+And goose-flesh quivered up my spine--
+I _might_ come home again!
+
+
+
+Spring Wish
+
+
+A frog's a very happy thing,
+Cool and green in early spring,
+Quick and silver through the pool,
+With no thought of books or school.
+
+Oh, I want to be a frog,
+Sunning, stretching on a log,
+Blinking there in splendid ease,
+Swimming naked when I please,
+Nosing into magic nooks,
+Quiet marshes, noisy brooks.
+
+Free! And fit for anything!
+Oh, to be a frog in spring!
+
+
+
+Ambition
+
+
+If I were a rocket
+Shot high across the night,
+I'd rather burst in silver stars
+Than green or purple light;
+
+For then, perhaps, I'd fool the moon,
+Although she's very wise,
+And thinking me a baby star
+She'd keep me in the skies.
+
+
+
+Dreams
+
+
+I'd like to dream my own dreams,
+Instead of dreaming those
+The silly sandman brings along
+Like moving picture shows.
+
+I'd like to dream of palaces,
+Of magic meadowlands,
+Of silver gates and golden thrones
+And chanting fairy bands;
+
+Of seas of spraying jewels,
+Of dancing crystal ships,
+Of the queen of all the elves herself--
+Two rubies for her lips;
+
+But, alas! I never dream such things,
+And when I jump and wake
+As an oozy ogre clutches me--
+It's just a stomach ache!
+
+
+
+Water-Lily
+
+
+I'd like to be a water-lily sleeping on the river,
+Where solemn rushes whisper, and funny ripples quiver.
+All day I'd watch the blue sky--all night I'd watch the black,
+Floating in the soft waves, dreaming on my back,
+And when I'd tired of dreaming, I'd call a passing fish,
+"I want to find the sea!" I'd shout, "Come! You can grant my wish!"
+
+He'd bite me from my moorings, and softly I would slip
+To the center of the river like an ocean-going ship.
+The waves would laugh upon me. The wind would blow me fast,
+And oh, what shores and wonders would greet me as I passed!
+Yes, if I were a water-lily, I'd sail to sea in state--
+A green frog for my captain--and a dragon-fly for mate!
+
+
+
+Humor
+
+
+Have you ever watched the clowns at play,
+White, red and black on circus day?
+They're always very, very gay.
+I wonder how they stay that way!
+
+I'd like to be a clown,
+Playing tricks around the town,
+Turning somersaults and springs,
+As if they were easy things,
+Laughing morning, noon and night,
+Being such a funny sight!
+
+Do you think, then, I'd grow tired of fun,
+Laughing so from sun to sun?
+Or, when performances are done,
+Do clown-folk cry like anyone?
+
+
+
+Independence
+
+
+I like to go out in the night
+When there's neither a sound nor a light,
+With my hands and feet bare,
+And the wind in my hair,
+Not a nurse nor a parent in sight;
+
+But only the night, moon and me
+As I dance in the dew joyfully,
+Quite daring and bold
+For there's no one to scold,
+Because there is no one to see.
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
+
+
+
+
+A Comparison
+
+
+Apple blossoms look like snow,
+They're different, though.
+Snow falls softly, but it brings
+Noisy things:
+Sleighs and bells, forts and fights,
+Cosy nights.
+
+But apple blossoms when they go,
+White and slow,
+Quiet all the orchard space,
+Till the place
+Hushed with falling sweetness seems
+Filled with dreams.
+
+
+
+Speculation
+
+
+I wonder if God sits alone
+Upon the highest mountain stone
+To stir the clouds and drop the rain,
+And then to pick it up again.
+
+I wonder if he sends the brooks
+Foaming from their distant nooks,
+And, sitting there in robes of gray,
+Turns rivers on at break of day.
+
+
+
+Parade
+
+
+The scarlet trumpet flowers are gay
+And yet they never seem to play,
+They never trumpet up the dawn
+Nor blow retreat across the lawn.
+
+But oh, to-day I heard a strain,
+A happy, martial, quick refrain,
+As down across the garden grass
+I saw the marching flowers pass:
+
+Gaudy phlox and flaunting rose,
+Stiff and straight and on their toes,
+And, blaring from the garden wall,
+The trumpet flower led them all.
+
+
+
+Flower Preferences
+
+
+If I were a tiny fairy
+ With nothing else to do
+But to wriggle into flowers
+ All the long day through,
+
+I'd dance among the roses,
+ I'd take a stately walk,
+Balancing precisely
+ On an Easter-lily stalk.
+
+For play I'd choose the jonquils,
+ For swimming, poppy cups,
+For jokes and tricks and tiny naps,
+ The Johnny-jump-ups!
+
+But on some quiet evening,
+ I'd leave my fairy band,
+And on a star-flower through the sky
+ I'd sail to fairyland.
+
+
+
+Parental Advice
+
+
+Who laid the egg that hatched the moon?
+Was it the earth, I wonder,
+Was it the sun, the clouds, or rain,
+Was it night or thunder?
+
+If I were mother to the moon
+I'd spank her every day
+Until she learned to stay at home
+And _never_ run away!
+
+
+
+Song for a Child Watching Clouds
+
+
+I've watched the clouds by day and night,
+Great fleecy ones all filled with light,
+Gray beasts that steal across the sky,
+And little fellows slipping by.
+
+Sometimes they seem like sheep at play,
+Sometimes when they are dull and gray
+The pale sun seems a ship to me,
+Sailing through a rolling sea;
+
+And I've seen faces in them too,
+Funny white men on the blue,
+They look so many different ways,
+And not one single cloudlet stays;
+
+But on across the heavens they blow,
+I often wonder where they go,
+Now sometime, maybe when I die,
+I, too, will wander through the sky.
+
+
+
+Problem
+
+
+If I were a violet I'd think it a shame
+To be always so simple and modest and tame,
+To be hidden away like a hermit or nun
+While the hare-brained pink roses can dance in the sun!
+But consider the naughty wild ways of the rose--
+There _must_ be _respectable_ flowers, I suppose!
+
+
+
+Garden Musings
+
+
+Why is the lily so stately and still?
+Why doesn't she dance like the gay daffodil?
+Why doesn't she blush like the rose or the pink,
+Or, like mischievous pansy, indulge in a wink?
+Do you think it's because she is holier than they,
+Or did God just decide he would make her that way?
+
+
+
+My Garden
+
+
+My garden was silly and stubborn;
+ I worked, but the weeds worked, too;
+I dug and scraped and scrambled--
+ They hustled themselves and grew;
+
+Now Ted's garden's fine and cleanly,
+ He has lettuce and roses and peas--
+Oh, most probably plants are like children--
+ They only behave when they please!
+
+
+
+Tracks
+
+
+I wonder where the rabbits go
+Who leave their tracks across the snow;
+For when I follow to their den
+The tracks always start out again.
+
+
+
+Chanticleer
+
+
+High and proud on the barnyard fence
+Walks rooster in the morning.
+He shakes his comb, he shakes his tail
+And gives his daily warning.
+
+"Get up, you lazy boys and girls,
+It's time you should be dressing!"
+I wonder if he keeps a clock,
+Or if he's only guessing.
+
+
+
+Rainbow
+
+
+The rainbow comes across the hill,
+It shines upon the sky, until
+It frightens all the tears from rain,
+And then it hides itself again.
+
+Now when I'm very tired of play
+I'll cross that rainbow bridge some day;
+And while dear nurse and father scold,
+I'll reach the end--and find the gold!
+
+
+
+Windmill
+
+
+The windmill stands up like a flower on the hill
+With its petals a-whirling--they seldom stay still--
+And its funny old voice creaking all the long day
+As it scolds little breezes for running away.
+
+
+
+Cat-Fish
+
+
+The cat-fish with whiskers that lives in the brook,
+Is an ugly old beast with the wickedest look.
+I suppose there were mouse-fish one time in brook town
+Till that ugly old cat-fish gulped all of them down.
+
+
+
+Visiting
+
+
+You and I shall travel far,
+We'll pass the old earth by,
+We'll ride the moon and drive a star
+Across the evening sky.
+
+We'll flash upon the milky way
+To pay Dame Night a call--
+But should we happen on old Day--
+We'd fall and fall and fall.
+
+
+
+Castles
+
+
+I used to build me castles of moisty sand and shells,
+And dream they were for princesses who wove me magic spells;
+But yesterday along the beach my fairy princess came--
+And she's too big for castles--now isn't that a shame!
+
+
+
+Parenthood
+
+
+The birches that dance on the top of the hill
+Are so slender and young that they cannot keep still,
+They bend and they nod at each whiff of a breeze,
+For you see they are still just the children of trees.
+
+But the birches below in the valley are older,
+They are calmer and straighter and taller and colder.
+Perhaps when we've grown up as solemn and grave,
+We, too, will have children who do not behave!
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS OF CIRCUMSTANCE
+
+
+
+
+Moral Song
+
+
+Oh, so cool
+In his deep green pool
+Was a frog on a log one day!
+He would blink his eyes
+As he snapped at flies,
+ For his mother was away,
+ _For his mother was away!_
+
+Now that naughty frog
+Left his own home log
+And started out to play.
+He flipped and he flopped
+And he never stopped
+ Till he reached the great blue bay,
+ _Till he reached the great blue bay!_
+
+Alas, with a swish
+Came a mighty fish,
+And swallowed him where he lay.
+Now it's things like this
+That never miss
+ Little frogs who don't obey,
+ _Little frogs who don't obey!_
+
+
+
+Serious Omission
+
+
+I know that there are dragons,
+St. George's, Jason's, too,
+And many modern dragons
+With scales of green and blue;
+
+But though I've been there many times
+And carefully looked through,
+I can't find a dragon
+In the cages at the zoo!
+
+
+
+Choice
+
+
+If I had just one penny
+ On the Fourth of July,
+Oh, what a problem it would be
+ To think what I should buy!
+
+With lollypops and fire-works,
+ With cakes and whiz-bangs, too,
+With tops and candy cigarettes,
+ Whatever should I do?
+
+Torpedoes have a splendid noise,
+ But noise is quickly past,
+And the sweetness of a lollypop
+ Is something that will last.
+
+
+
+Natural Fireworks
+
+
+The fireflies in the valley
+Are having their display
+Among the river willows
+Like little bits of day!
+
+Come, light your silver sparkler
+And wave it in the air.
+Go dance among the willows
+And sprinkle sparkles there.
+
+Then, oh, the world will wonder
+To see the willows shine,
+And even the fireflies will not know
+Their tiny sparks from mine.
+
+
+
+Conspiracy
+
+
+The sun has a face that is laughing and red
+When nurse pulls me out in the morning from bed;
+But he's not half so sly as the silly old moon,
+Who winks when I'm sent to my bedroom too soon.
+
+
+
+Cuckoo Clock
+
+
+The cuckoo in the clock by day
+Is usually very gay;
+And that's because, with people near,
+There's not a thing for him to fear;
+
+But when the sitting room is dim
+And no one's there to welcome him--
+How tremblingly he must come out
+To flap his wings and look about.
+
+Why! Only just the other night
+The cuckoo stopped the clock from fright!
+
+
+
+The Sentinel
+
+
+I'm only a little toy dough-boy,
+And I have neither sorrows nor fears;
+But I patiently wait,
+With my gun pointed straight
+And my helmet pulled down on my ears.
+
+The ugly wood lions and tigers
+May show their white teeth if they please,
+If the whole Noah's ark
+Should threaten and bark
+It wouldn't unstiffen my knees.
+
+And some day when you are a soldier
+With your helmet pulled down on your ears
+I'll still be as straight
+As I wonder and wait,
+Standing my watch through the years.
+
+
+
+Royalty
+
+
+If I should meet a king or queen
+Upon the street some day,
+Do you think that I'd be frightened?
+Why, I'd know just what to say.
+
+"Your reverend majesties," I'd say,
+And humbly bow the knee,
+"I am your very humble swain,
+And will you honor me?"
+
+The king would strike my shoulder
+With a sword of passing might,
+He'd lift me grandly to my feet,
+He'd say, "Arise, O Knight!"
+
+Oh, I would not be frightened,
+For I've seen kings galore,
+Don't you think it's just to learn of them
+That playing cards are for?
+
+
+
+Crackers
+
+
+Oh, there are very many kinds
+Of crackers, great and small,
+Saltines and ginger-snaps and such,
+I'd like to eat them all;
+
+But there's a kind of cracker
+That I _need much worse,_
+A bright red giant cracker
+To set off under nurse!
+
+
+
+The Drum
+
+
+The drum's a very quiet fellow
+When he's left alone;
+But oh, how he does roar and bellow,
+Rattle, snap and groan,
+Clatter, spatter, dash and patter,
+Rumble, shriek and moan
+Whene'er I take my sticks in hand
+And beat him soundly for the band.
+
+
+
+Theatricals
+
+
+Now I'll play at being queen,
+ Hold my head quite stiff and haughty,
+ Always proud and never naughty,
+Sweeping grandly down the green.
+
+Or I'll be a moonlight fairy,
+ Bobbing lightly on the river,
+ Dancing where the shadows quiver,
+Winged and shining, swift and wary.
+
+If the doctor thinks I'm sick,
+ He's just silly. _I am not!_
+ I'm just tired and very hot,
+Hating drink that's sweet and thick.
+
+Flowers dance across the walls,
+ Mother's face seems far away,
+ She's the audience, I'm the play,
+She will clap for curtain calls.
+
+No!--I do not want to play!
+ Seven thrones around my bed,
+ Circling gold about my head--
+Angels always fly away!
+
+
+
+Sally
+
+
+If I were a stately sailboat,
+I'd sail to Zanzibar,
+I'd sail the seven secret seas,
+Where the secret cities are,
+And some day I'd be sailing with the wind before my prow,
+And all the mermaids of the sea would clamber up the bow.
+They'd beckon me with laughter,
+They'd beckon me with smiles,
+They'd show me cakes and candies
+In half a dozen styles,
+They'd promise me a life of ease
+Eating sweets beneath the seas,
+They'd promise me a life of play--
+A never ending holiday;
+But I would say quite plainly,
+And, oh, how stern I'd look!
+Do you think that you can tempt me
+While Sally is our cook?
+
+If I were a little fire balloon
+I'd float aloft to Mars,
+I'd pay a call on Venus
+And chatter with the stars,
+And just as I'd be fluttering across the yellow moon,
+The angels would come singing a solemn Sunday tune.
+They'd beckon to me gravely,
+They'd tell me I could stay,
+They'd show me all the jewels
+That pave the milky way.
+They'd promise me a golden crown
+And silver robes like eider-down,
+They'd give me harps with shiny strings
+And wonderfully fluffy wings;
+BUT--I would tell them plainly
+I didn't want to die--
+Till all the angel cooks had learned
+How Sally makes mince pie!
+
+
+
+
+
+SONGS FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE
+
+
+
+
+Bundles
+
+
+A bundle is a funny thing,
+It always sets me wondering;
+For whether it is thin or wide
+You never know just what's inside.
+
+Especially on Christmas week,
+Temptation is so great to peek!
+Now wouldn't it be much more fun
+If shoppers carried things undone?
+
+
+
+The Candy Santa Claus
+
+
+I'm very fond of candles
+With their quaint coquettish way,
+But alas! I wooed too often,
+And now my life's to pay.
+
+They knew I was important
+When they decked the Christmas tree,
+Yes, they hung me on the tip-top
+For all the world to see.
+
+But, alas! A lady candle
+Has come with me to the top,
+And I'm melting with affection,
+I'm dying drop by drop.
+
+
+
+The Tinsel Star
+
+
+I'm just a shiny tinsel star,
+Boxed all the time as such things are,
+And only used just once a year,
+Oh, life is very dull and drear!
+
+A real star has far fields to roam,
+A tinsel star must stay at home.
+It is a terrible vexation
+To be a silly imitation!
+
+
+
+The Ambitious Mouse
+
+
+If all the world were candy
+And the sky were frosted cake,
+Oh, it would be a splendid job
+For a mouse to undertake!
+
+To eat a path of sweetmeats
+Through candy forest aisles--
+Explore the land of Pepper-mint
+Stretched out for miles and miles.
+
+To gobble up a cloudlet,
+A little cup-cake star,
+To swim a lake of liquid sweet
+With shores of chocolate bar.
+
+But, best of all the eating,
+Would be the toothsome fat,
+Triumphant hour of mouse-desire,
+To eat a candy cat!
+
+
+
+Prayer
+
+
+Last night I crept across the snow,
+Where only tracking rabbits go,
+And then I waited quite alone
+Until the Christmas radiance shone!
+
+At midnight twenty angels came,
+Each white and shining like a flame.
+At midnight twenty angels sang,
+The stars swung out like bells and rang.
+
+They lifted me across the hill,
+They bore me in their arms until
+A greater glory greeted them.
+It was the town of Bethlehem.
+
+And gently, then, they set me down,
+All worshipping that holy town,
+And gently, then, they bade me raise
+My head to worship and to praise.
+
+And gently, then, the Christ smiled down.
+Ah, there was glory in that town!
+It was as if the world were free
+And glistening with purity.
+
+And in that vault of crystal blue,
+It was as if the world were new,
+And myriad angels, file on file,
+Glorified in the Christ-child's smile.
+
+It was so beautiful to see
+Such glory, for a child like me,
+So beautiful, it does not seem
+It could have been a Christmas dream.
+
+
+
+
+
+About the author:
+
+
+John Chipman Farrar (1896-1974), late of the New York publishing
+firm of Farrar, Straus and Giroux, attended Yale University where
+his poem "Portraits" was the Yale University Prize Poem in 1916.
+After serving during the First World War as an intelligence officer
+with the U.S. Air Service, Farrar returned to Yale and graduated in 1919.
+His first book "Forgotten Shrines" was published late that same year as
+the second volume of the Yale Series of Younger Poets, reprinted in 1971,
+over half a century later.
+
+After graduation, Farrar turned to publishing and literary criticism,
+editing George H. Doran Company's periodical "The Bookman". Between
+1927 and 1929, Farrar was editor at Doubleday, Doran and Company.
+In mid-1929, he and two sons of the famous mystery writer Mary Robert
+Rinehart started the publishing firm if Farrar and Rinehart, Inc.
+His connection with that firm lasted until 1945, although he was
+absent during the war years assisting in U.S. government psychological
+war efforts. Farrar and Rinehart was later absorbed by Henry Holt.
+
+As a young editor in New York, Farrar volunteered in 1922 for the
+organizing committee of an American chapter of PEN (originally Poets,
+Essayists and Novelists) founded in England the year before by Sappho
+(Amy Dawson Scott) to foster support of visiting foreign writers.
+PEN grew quickly to become an international advocate for freedom of
+expression and continues its activism to this day. (See http://www.pen.org)
+
+After the Second World War, the American chapter of PEN foundered for
+lack of direction. Farrar, co-principal of the newly formed publishing
+house of Farrar, Straus and Company, now Farrar, Straus and Giroux,
+stepped in to refocus its energies and recruit dozens of new members.
+He served as president twice, once from 1951-1953 and again from 1963-1965.
+
+In his roles as both and editor and a publisher, Farrar had a lasting
+impact on literature through the years. Farrar, Straus & Giroux
+has published many Nobel Laureates (20 as of 1995) and dozens of
+distinguished poets and authors. It is my privilege to reprint
+this etext of some of his own work for posterity.
+
+
+- Stewart A. Levin
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of Songs for Parents, by John Farrar
+
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