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+Project Gutenberg's The Book of the Little Past, by Josephine Preston Peabody
+
+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/license
+
+
+Title: The Book of the Little Past
+
+Author: Josephine Preston Peabody
+
+Illustrator: Elizabeth Shippen Green
+
+Release Date: March 13, 2012 [EBook #39131]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE LITTLE PAST ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jennifer Sahmoun, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  The Book of the Little Past
+
+  '_I watched, ... even as it were a
+  Sparrow that sitteth upon the
+  house-top_'
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: MAKING A HOUSE]
+
+
+
+
+  The Book of
+  the Little
+  Past
+
+
+  by Josephine Preston Peabody
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green
+
+
+  Houghton Mifflin Company
+  Boston   1910   New York
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT 1903 BY JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY
+  COPYRIGHT 1908 BY JOSEPHINE PEABODY MARKS
+  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+
+
+
+
+  TO =Alison=
+  AND OLDER CHILDREN
+
+
+
+
+  NOTE
+
+  _Of the poems of child-life brought together in this
+  book many are wholly new; some are reprinted from
+  "The Singing Leaves," published in 1903; and others
+  have appeared in Harper's Monthly Magazine, to the
+  editor of which I am indebted for permission to
+  reprint them._
+                                            _J. P. M._
+  JULY, 1908
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+
+  MAKING A HOUSE                    1
+
+  THE BUSY CHILD                    2
+
+  SUNSET                            4
+
+  WIND                              5
+
+  LATE                              6
+
+  CAKES AND ALE                     7
+
+  THE JOURNEY                       8
+
+  PIGEONS OUT WALKING              10
+
+  CONCERNING LOVE                  11
+
+  CURLS                            12
+
+  I WAS LOST                       14
+
+  THE POLITE VISITOR               16
+
+  THE MYSTIC                       18
+
+  MARKET                           19
+
+  LITTLE SIDE-STREETS              20
+
+  CHESTNUT STANDS                  22
+
+  THE PLAY'S THE THING             24
+
+  WINDOWS                          26
+
+  THE MASTERPIECE                  28
+
+  ODE ON THE DOG                   29
+
+  THE SORROWS                      32
+
+  SECRETS                          33
+
+  THE CHRISTMAS TREE               34
+
+  CANDLE-LIGHT                     36
+
+  COW-BELLS                        37
+
+  THUNDER-STORMS                   39
+
+  CHURCH-TIME                      40
+
+  ANGELS                           42
+
+  THE BEGGAR-MAN                   43
+
+  THE GREEN SINGING-BOOK           44
+
+  WING-SPROUTS                     46
+
+  EARLY                            47
+
+  THE WIND'S EAST                  48
+
+  AFTER-WORD                       50
+
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+
+
+  MAKING A HOUSE       _Frontispiece_
+
+  THE JOURNEY                       8
+
+  THE MYSTIC                       18
+
+  THE MASTERPIECE                  28
+
+  CANDLE-LIGHT                     36
+
+  THE GREEN SINGING-BOOK           44
+
+
+
+
+
+Making a house
+
+
+
+    First of all, I draw the Smoke
+      Trailing up the sky;
+    Then the Chimney, underneath;
+      And Birds all flying by;
+    Then the House; and every Window,
+      Watching, like an Eye.
+
+    Everybody else begins
+      With the House. But I
+    Love the Smoke the best of all;
+      And you don't know why!...
+    Here it goes,--like little feathers,
+      Sailing up the sky!
+
+
+
+
+
+The Busy Child
+
+
+
+    I have so many things to do,
+    I don't know when I shall be through.
+
+    To-day I had to watch the rain
+    Come sliding down the window-pane.
+
+    And I was humming, all the time,
+    Around my head, a kind of rhyme,
+
+    And blowing softly on the glass,
+    To see the dimness come and pass.
+
+    I made a picture, with my breath
+    Rubbed out to show the underneath.
+
+    I built a city on the floor;
+    And then I went and was a War.--
+
+    And I escaped, from square to square
+    That's greener on the carpet, there,
+
+    Until at last, I came to Us:
+    But it was very dangerous.--
+
+    Because, if I had stepped Outside,
+    I made believe I should have died!
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    And now I have the boat to mend;
+    And all our supper to pretend.
+
+    I am so Busy, all the day,
+    I haven't any time to play.
+
+
+
+
+
+Sunset
+
+
+
+    Those islands far away are mine,
+      Beyond the cloudy strip;
+    And something beautiful, besides:--
+      I think it is a Ship.
+
+
+
+
+
+Wind
+
+
+
+    I let them call it just _The Wind_,
+      And tell me not to grieve.
+    But I know all it left behind,
+      And more than they believe.
+
+    I know; about the far-off lands,
+      Where people never sleep;
+    They hide their faces in their hands,
+      And rock, and weep, and weep.
+
+    And I too little, all alone,
+      To go and find them yet;--
+    But Oh, I hear!--When I am grown,
+      I never will forget.
+
+
+
+
+
+Late
+
+
+
+    My Father brought somebody up,
+      To show us all, asleep.
+    They came as softly up the stairs
+          As you could creep.
+
+    They whispered in the doorway there,
+      And looked at us awhile.
+    I had my eyes shut up; but I
+          Could feel him smile.
+
+    I shut my eyes up close, and lay
+      As still as I could keep;
+    Because I knew he wanted us
+          To be asleep.
+
+
+
+
+
+Cakes and Ale
+
+
+
+    I'm always glad when Andrew comes.
+      If only I am there,
+    He stays awhile, and talks to me,
+      As if he did not care.
+
+    He took me to some Music once,
+      When it was all for me.
+    And Oh, I had a splendid time!
+      And he said, So did He.
+
+    It lasts as if the Music still
+      Went round and round the sky.--
+    He said he had a good time, too;
+      And I said, So did I!
+
+
+
+
+
+The Journey
+
+
+
+    I never saw the hills so far
+    And blue, the way the pictures are;
+
+    And flowers, flowers growing thick,
+    But not a one for me to pick!
+
+    The land was running from the train,
+    All blurry through the window-pane.
+
+    And then it all looked flat and still,
+    When up there jumped a little hill!
+
+    I saw the windows and the spires,
+    And sparrows sitting on the wires;
+
+    And fences, running up and down;
+    And then we cut straight through a town.
+
+    I saw a Valley, like a cup;
+    And ponds that twinkled, and dried up.
+
+[Illustration: THE JOURNEY]
+
+    I counted meadows, that were burnt;
+    And there were trees,--and then there weren't!
+
+    We crossed the bridges with a roar,
+    Then hummed, the way we went before.
+
+    And tunnels made it dark and light
+    Like open-work of day and night.
+
+    Until I saw the chimneys rise,
+    And lights and lights and lights, like eyes.
+
+    And when they took me through the door,
+    I heard It all begin to roar.--
+
+    I thought--as far as I could see--
+    That everybody wanted Me!
+
+
+
+
+
+Pigeons Out Walking
+
+
+
+    They never seem to hurry,--no,
+      Even for the crowd.
+    They dip, and coo, and move as slow,
+      All so soft and proud!
+    You can see the wavy specks
+    Of bubble-color on their necks;
+      --Little, little Cloud.
+
+    Cloud that goes, the very way
+      All the Bubbles do:
+    Blue and green, and green and gray,
+      Gold and rosy, too.
+    And they talk as Bubbles could
+    If they only ever would
+      Talk and call and coo!
+
+    --Till you try to catch one so,
+      Just to make it stay
+    While the colors turn. But Oh,
+      Then they fly away!--
+    All at once, two, three, four, five--
+    Like a snowstorm all alive,--
+      Gray and white, and gray!
+
+
+
+
+
+Concerning Love
+
+
+
+    I wish she would not ask me if I love the Kitten more than her.
+    Of Course I love her. But I love the Kitten, too; and It has Fur.
+
+
+
+
+
+Curls
+
+
+
+    It happens that way in the world
+    With everything you see.
+    Some people have their hair all curl'd,
+    Some straight as straight can be.
+    It is a Mystery.
+
+    Yes, some have hair that waves and clings,
+    And does all kinds of curly things;--
+    And some not ever, till they Die.
+    And nobody knows Why....
+    And some,--already born with Curls,
+    Some of them are not even Girls!
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    I always think,--of Curly Hair,
+    It looks as if the Curls came there
+    The way I hum around a song
+    More things than really do belong.
+    The happier I feel, the more
+    I sing, I never heard before!
+    I curl more music round the Air,
+    The way it looks with Curly Hair.
+
+
+[_Envoi_]
+
+    But you may sing all day, you know;
+    You cannot really make it grow.
+    And you may know it is Not Fair;
+    But that won't give you Curly Hair.
+
+
+
+
+
+I Was Lost
+
+    [_Oh, the Day that I was Lost, I never shall forget:
+    I wake up in the night sometimes, and think It's Happening Yet._]
+
+
+
+    She let me go, a minute.
+    She said she would take care;
+    But she let me go, a minute:
+    And then-- She wasn't there.
+
+    Everything grew awful
+    That was good before.
+    And the Faces didn't look
+    Like people any more.
+
+    It made you feel like Wrinkles
+    All over you; and Cold.
+    It made you feel two hundred
+    And eighty-nine years old.
+
+    It was like being Homesick,
+    And Hurt; when no one Cares.
+    It was exactly like a Wreck;
+    And people smiled like Bears.
+
+    I thought that my own Mother
+    Had just--Forgotten me!
+    I thought that God had lost me,
+    Like a Penny in the Sea.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    The Noise all seemed to grow and grow
+    And roar until it drowned me.--
+    And I could only say,--'_I'm Lost_.'...
+    And then, at last,--they Found me,
+    --They Found me!
+
+
+
+
+
+Polite Visitor
+
+
+
+    I feel polite, outside the door;
+      But when it should begin,
+    I can't remember Not to ask
+      If just their Cat is in.
+
+    And if the Sun should sprinkle through
+      Along the floor that way,
+    I can't remember what I do
+      If I am Urged to Stay.
+
+    And when I've shaken hands all round,
+      --No matter how I try,
+    I can't remember Not to go
+      And Kiss their Dog good-by,
+          --Good-by,
+              --Good-by!
+
+    _Yes, thank you, please.--They're Very Well;
+      --I think I'd better go._
+
+    _Yes, thank you, please. I'm always late;
+      My Mother told me so.
+    Yes, thank you!--If I Have to Bring
+      A message,--yes, I'll come;
+    --And if your Bird will only Sing;
+      --And when your Cat is home._
+
+
+
+
+
+The Mystic
+
+
+
+    People say to me,
+      'A penny for your thought.'--
+    And I can't remember thinking;
+      And I should think I ought.
+    I wasn't sleeping, either:
+      I know that, because
+    I saw things out of both my eyes.
+      I wonder where I was.
+
+    Now I'm back, I see them
+      Sitting all around;
+    And the noise, together,
+      Makes a purring sound.
+    But I know Something More
+      Than just awhile ago.
+    I know Something More!--
+      I wonder what I know.
+
+[Illustration: THE MYSTIC]
+
+
+
+
+
+Market
+
+
+
+    I went to Market yesterday,
+      And it is like a Fair
+    Of everything you'd like to see;
+      But nothing live is there:
+    --The Pigeons, hanging up to eat;
+    And Rabbits, by their little feet!--
+      And no one seemed to care.
+
+    And there were Fishes out in rows,
+      Bright ones of every kind;
+    Some were pink, and silver too;
+      But all of them were blind.
+    Yes, everything you'd like to touch.--
+    It would not make you happy much,
+      But no one seemed to mind.
+
+    And loveliest of all, a Deer!--
+      Only its eyes were blurred;
+    And hanging by it, very near,
+      A beautiful great Bird.
+    So I could smooth his feathers through,
+    And kiss them, very softly, too:
+      But Oh, he never stirred!
+
+
+
+
+
+Little Side-Streets
+
+
+
+    Why are some streets so different?
+    The kittens all are long and thin;
+    I think they have more flowers there,
+    But broken things to grow them in.
+
+    Why do they like the house so high,
+    With such a little of the ground?
+    And do you think they ever see
+    The Moon before it's old and round?
+
+    Why won't I like to play there, too?--
+    With all the funny things to eat,
+    And all the carts with little bells,
+    And dancing-music in the street?
+
+    And if I can't, then why do they
+    Stay out, the whole of evening?--
+    Why do they always seem to have
+    Just Not-Enough of everything?
+
+    Why don't you come?--Why can't I go?
+    It isn't Fair!--What makes it so?--
+    If they don't like it? Don't you know?
+    Why do you always never know?
+
+
+
+
+
+Chestnut Stands
+
+
+
+    I wonder why you feel, somehow,
+      It's wrong to leave a Chestnut stand,
+    With all so much of what you want
+      In both your pockets and your hand.
+    I always have to turn around;--
+      It sounds so hurt--I don't see why--
+    That little high-up crying sound
+      I don't remember by and by.
+
+    There is not anything so good
+      As Chestnuts (when they're hot) can be.
+    It must be fun to count them out,
+      With One for You and One for Me;
+    And yet it stays so doleful there,
+      --For all the People going by,--
+    And breathing frosty on the air,
+      Like something trying not to cry.
+
+    --It Isn't something I was Told!--
+      I know it's small and scared and thin.--
+    It's like when both your hands are cold,
+      And Pockets you can't put them in!
+    --Like something happened long ago;
+      --Like feeling Homesick,--yes, and Shy;
+    Like being Sorry,--when you know
+      You won't remember, by and by.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Play's the Thing
+
+
+
+      I never dared to look away
+        While they were tuning so,
+      For fear the Curtain might go up,
+        --And I not see it go!--
+    Then all at once, it all went Dark;--
+    To make you hold your breath and hark,
+        --Oh, hold your breath and hark!
+
+      Excepting where the Curtain was,
+        It stayed as black as night;
+      And that kept still one minute more,
+        All edged across with light:--
+    Then Up--and Up--
+                            And Oh, so soon,
+    It was like all Inside the Moon,
+        --Yes, sitting in the Moon!
+
+      And Oh, how Beautiful they were!--
+        And could we see them near?--
+      And Oh, how brave at everything!
+        But it was somehow queer
+
+    To see that smiling way they had:
+    They smiled so much, but not all glad;
+      --No, not so always glad.
+
+      I wish we couldn't go away;
+        I wish it would begin
+      All over, now, and never end;
+        I wish we were Locked In!
+    Oh, can't we see it all again?
+    To-morrow!--Sunday! Monday? When?
+          --Ah, when, when?
+
+
+
+
+
+Windows
+
+
+
+    Once, and in the daytime too, I made myself afraid,
+    Playing Eyelids-Up-and-Down, with the window-shade;
+    Till the Houses seemed to watch People going by;
+    And they kept me looking, too,--wondering where and why.
+
+    _If I were that Other Boy,--if I were those Men,
+    Going by with things to sell,--who would I be, then?_
+
+    Windows with their eyebrows high; windows like a frown,
+    Thinking it all over, so, with the curtains down;
+    Tall ones that are somehow sad, narrow ones that blink,--
+    All the Windows you can see make you think, and think.
+
+    _If I were that Old Man, and I looked up at me
+    Watching from the window here, Oh, then how would it be?_
+
+    Sometimes they are golden, with shining in their eyes.--
+    Every time the sun sets, it happens like surprise,--
+    And so bright, I almost forget the dream I made;
+    But I keep it, for the days I want to make myself afraid.
+
+    _If I were that Boy who limps,--now it's dark and snowing,
+    And if I were going home,--Oh, where would I be going?_
+
+
+
+
+
+The Masterpiece
+
+
+
+    My Mother cut it out for me,
+    And started it, so I could see;
+    And then she turned some edges in,
+    And let me take it to begin.
+    I made it. But I did not know
+    How very long it takes to sew.
+    I took a long time for that stitch;
+    And now it's there, I don't know which
+    Is better. But not one is small,
+    And they are not alike at all.
+    That side was very hard to fix.
+    And then, the needle always pricks:
+    But you must hold it, and take care,--
+    Because the point is always there;
+    And knots keep coming by and by;
+    And then, no matter how you try,
+    The thread comes out of its old eye!
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    But some way, now I have it done,--
+    I think it is a Pretty One.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE MASTERPIECE]
+
+
+
+
+
+Ode on the Dog
+
+
+I
+
+
+    My Pitch-dark Angel with a Rosy Tongue,
+            My Own--my Own,
+    Why can't the grown-up Things we live among
+            Let us alone?
+    Why do they have to talk the livelong day
+        About such silly things?
+    But if they must,--why can't they, anyway,
+        Have either Tails or Wings?
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+    Of Course I cannot love them as they are,
+            As much as You.
+    Why aren't they ever really Beautiful,
+            --They too?--
+        With curly coats, like wool;
+        And floppy ears to pull;
+    Yes, and a wide pink mouth, with such a Smile!
+    Yes, and a Tail that beats time all the while;
+            Beautiful, Beautiful!--
+      And golden stars, for eyes,
+      Behind the darkest trees
+      (Till your hair's parted)!
+    Why can't they have such darling ways as these?--
+    Why can't they be so lovely when they sneeze?--
+    Why can't they ever be so tender-hearted,
+      Or even look so wise
+            As You?--
+    My Wonderful (even if you Won't say _Mew_),
+      My True Prince in Disguise!
+          Why can't they be
+    As funny, when they try to sing a song?
+      And when, for everything that I can do,
+          They Won't Agree,--
+    Why can't they think they're always in the wrong?
+            --Like You!
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+        Why you,--O Precious Thing,
+    You are swift (almost) as any Sparrow.--
+    Over the tall grass how you arch and spring,
+        Yes, like a bow and arrow!--
+    Oh, and how good to see you, when it snows,
+    Plough a long, lovely pathway with your nose!
+        (No one grown-up could do it, I suppose.)
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+    My dearest Blessing and my Very Own,
+        Even when I am grown,
+        Never do you forsake me!
+    If you don't go to heaven when you die,
+          --Neither will I:
+        Nothing can ever make me!
+            I won't go,
+        For all that they can do.
+    No; on the steps Outside, and down, below,
+      Forever and ever and ever, I'll stay too!
+            --With You.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Sorrows
+
+
+
+    If This is all it will be like,
+    I wish to Die;--I don't care how--
+    While I am very, very young;
+      As young as almost Now.
+
+    They never felt what Sorrow was;
+    Or never learned their Golden Rule;
+    They say, _These are your happiest days_,
+      --With School,--School,--School!
+
+    When Saturday's all out of breath
+    With all the week before in sight;--
+    And Monday coming after you
+      Spoils every Sunday night!
+
+    And Nothing done but yesterdays;
+    And Nothing coming but to-morrows!
+    Don't cheer me up. Please let me be.
+      --I have the Sorrows.
+
+
+
+
+
+Secrets
+
+
+
+    I have a secret to myself,
+      That no one else can see.
+    I hum it over to myself,
+      And no one hears but me.
+    --Something You don't know!
+      I knew long ago.--
+    And the more I never tell you it,
+      The more it gets to be.
+
+    It makes me feel as purry
+      As the Kitten on your knee.
+    It makes me feel as round and warm
+      As the Sparrow on that tree;
+    It makes me puff my feathers out
+      The way he puffs out his.--
+    And if you think I haven't one,
+      I'll tell you what it Is,
+            --Maybe!
+
+
+
+
+
+The Christmas Tree
+
+
+
+    I know you're in the house;
+    I know you are in there;
+    I feel the green and breathing
+    All around the air.
+    I know you're safe and warm;
+      I know you're very near.
+        _Oh, darling Tree,
+            Do you hear?_
+
+    I promised not to look
+    (The way I did before),
+    But I can hear you purring--
+    Purring, through the door:
+    A green, soft, purring;
+      Just as if you knew:
+        _Everybody here
+            Loves you._
+
+    Don't feel lonely,
+    Now you are in-doors.--
+    Wait for all the shining things
+    To-morrow,--all yours!
+    Then you won't know what to think!--
+      All over Candle-light.
+        --_Oh, darling Tree,
+            Good-night._
+
+    And I love you, I love you;
+    And everybody, too.
+    And so does the market-man
+    That brought us you!
+    And if you haven't Anything
+      For me, this year,
+        --_I love you. Good-night!
+            Do you hear?_
+
+
+
+
+
+Candle-Light
+
+
+
+    When I've wished on my first star,
+      While the rest begin,
+    And the grass is waking up,
+      Oh, She calls us in!--
+      Then She calls us in.
+
+    But I wouldn't go, unless
+      I were sure there'd be
+    Something more like that, indoors,
+      Something more to see,--
+      Beautiful to see.
+
+    So She lights the candle then,
+      Where the shadows are,
+    And it stands, and holds its breath--
+      Then it makes a Star,--
+      Then it makes a Star!
+
+    I curl up for my good-night,
+      Dark, where I can see.
+    And I watch the Candle-light
+      Till It looks at me,
+      Oh, It looks at me!
+
+[Illustration: CANDLE-LIGHT]
+
+
+
+
+
+Cow-Bells
+
+
+
+    I've followed till the Sun was down,
+      As low as to the very brink;
+    And still the pathway kept along,
+      Around the world, I think.
+
+    I've tried to find it, everywhere
+      A bell would clink, and clink, and call;
+    But someway I can never find
+      That Farthest One of all.
+
+    I've been in all the tallest weeds,--
+      And thistles (with the loudest bees);
+    And once, across the stepping-stones
+      And through the cedar-trees.
+
+    And now you hear it hushing up,
+      And then you hear it clink and clink;
+    And if you found it, it would lead
+      Around the world, I think!
+
+    It sounds so small, and gold, and far--
+      Far-off, beyond the lily-pool;--
+    And so, as if there must be there
+      --Oh, something Wonderful!
+
+
+
+
+
+Thunder-Storms
+
+
+
+    Excepting when they're very loud,
+      And then, when they're almost too bright,
+    I love to see a Thunder-Storm,
+      Excepting when it's in the night.
+
+    It's harder to remember, then:
+    _It's Very Wicked not to trust
+    A Thunder-Storm. Because it's Sure
+      To know!--And then, besides, you Must._
+
+    _For it will light your Heart up.--Yes;
+    The Deepest Darkness ever Made
+    Could Never Hide the Guilty One
+      ... Who feels At All Afraid._
+
+
+    The thunder is the best of all,--
+    Except the wading for the Birds;
+    And then, the Shining in the wet;
+      --Oh, and the Rainbow, afterwards!
+
+
+
+
+
+Church-Time
+
+
+
+    It feels Forever without End,
+      The time I have to stay.
+    It's even harder to keep still
+      Than pray and pray and pray.
+
+    The reading happens all the time;
+      The praying rolls along;
+    And something makes them always sing
+      A long, long song.
+
+    So when I've nearly gone to sleep,
+      I make my Penny walk.--
+    I walk it up and down, to hear
+      The talk and talk and talk.
+
+    And if I lose it on the floor
+      Before they pass the Plate,
+    Why then there's nothing more to do
+      But wait--wait--wait.--
+
+    Till, when you'd have to go to sleep
+      Or else you'd have to die,
+    They let you Out,--and straight into
+            The Sky!
+
+    _With nests all hiding up the Trees,
+      And Roads to make you Run:--
+    And everything like Squirrels!--
+        In the Sun--the Sun!_
+
+
+
+
+
+Angels
+
+
+
+    They are more shy than Snow.
+    You may look up and try to see one there,
+    Just when you feel It breathing on your hair;
+        But then It has to go.--
+        Somehow, I know.
+
+        They want you to believe
+    How bright they are, and never try to see
+    Whether they keep their word. For that would be
+        As if they could deceive.
+        That makes them grieve.
+
+        So, if you want Yours near,
+    And hide your eyes and keep quite still; and say,
+    "_Oh, I have Wanted you all day--all day;
+        Shine at me, Angel, dear!_"
+        It will be Here.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Beggar-Man
+
+
+
+    He only looked like a Beggar-man,
+      As ragged, just, as any.
+    But he might have been an Angel, too.
+      So I gave him my penny.
+
+    I waited, till I thought I saw
+      Him shining through. And when he
+    Held out his hand, I watched for what
+      Would happen to my penny.
+
+    He might have been an Angel, too!
+      But I know he wasn't any.
+    For he frowned at me, like that, you see,
+      When it wasn't but One penny.
+
+    And now that's gone; and I don't care.
+      I'd rather not have any,
+    Than keep it, if an Angel came
+      And asked me for my penny.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Green Singing-Book
+
+
+
+    I don't know how to read the words,
+      Nor how the black things go.
+    But if you stand it up, and sing,
+      You never have to know.
+
+    The music sounds alike each time
+      When grown-up people play;
+    But every time I sing, myself,
+      It sounds a different way.
+
+    And when I've sung the book all through,
+      And every page, around,
+    I stand it upside down and sing,
+      To see how that will sound.
+
+    I sing how all the things outside
+      The window look to me;
+    The shiny wrinkles in the road,
+      And then, about my Tree;
+
+[Illustration: THE GREEN SINGING-BOOK]
+
+    I sing about the City, too,
+      The noises and the wheels;
+    And Windows blinking in the sun;--
+      I sing the way it feels.
+
+    And if a Sparrow flies across,
+      I put him in the Song.--
+    I sing whatever happens in,
+      To make it last for long.
+
+    I sing about the things I think
+      Of almost everything.
+    Sometimes I don't know what to Think
+      --Till I begin to Sing.
+
+
+
+
+
+Wing-Sprouts
+
+
+
+    It happens when the birds go by
+      And leave you far behind;
+    And you flutter, till you ache
+      All around your mind.--
+            Like a Flag,
+            Like a Flag
+      Flapping at the wind!
+
+    It happens when you catch the hills
+      As blue as yesterday;
+    You hold your heart in both your hands,
+      Or it would fly away.
+            Yes, it would!
+            Yes, it would!
+      Away--away--away!
+
+    It makes your heart into a Bird
+      That darts, and leaps, and sings.
+    --Oh, feel my pinafore, high up!--
+      Oh, do you think it's Wings?
+            Do you think--
+            Do you think--
+      Oh, couldn't it be Wings?
+
+
+
+
+
+Early
+
+
+
+    I like to lie and wait, to see
+      My Mother braid her hair.
+    It is as long as it can be,
+      And yet she doesn't care.
+      I love my Mother's hair.
+
+    And then the way her fingers go;
+      They look so quick and white,--
+    In and out, and to and fro,
+      And braiding in the light;
+      And it is always right.
+
+    So then she winds it, shiny brown,
+    Around her head into a crown,
+      Just like the day before.
+    And then she looks, and pats it down,
+      And looks, a minute more.--
+    While I stay here, all still and cool.
+    Oh, isn't Morning beautiful?
+
+
+
+
+
+The Wind's East
+
+
+
+    The Wind's east,--Oh, Oh!
+    Only a little while ago,
+    To-day was just like yesterday.
+      But now--now, only Now
+    The world's all turned some silver way;--
+            I know how,
+            I know how!
+
+            The Wind's east,
+            The Wind's east!--
+    Salt, salt Wind that I love so.
+    All the things in the garden blow
+    Wavy gray;--and the Trees all know,--
+    Trees that never, never can go,
+      Must know how it would feel to be
+    There, where the Ships sail to and fro,
+      Ships on the blue, blue Sea!
+    And the homesick ones by the bridge up here
+    Are tugging to get their anchors clear,
+      And they reach up high, to see.
+
+    They catch their breath when they feel the air,
+    And the rigging stirs, and the lanterns stare;
+    For they know the tide is high out there,
+    The gulls go skirling by, out there,--
+      The gulls and the Wind go free.
+    And they tug, and they pull, and they wonder so
+    When will the Captain let them go?--
+            Oh, Oh,--to Sea,
+            To Sea!
+
+
+
+
+
+After-Word
+
+
+
+    And shall we light the candle now?
+    And leave, since there is so much more,
+    Our cupful, and the share of bread,
+        Here by the open door?
+
+    For some one might be wanting it,
+    If there should chance to come this way,
+    A very poor Man; or a Bird;--
+        Or maybe, God, some day.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Book of the Little Past, by 
+Josephine Preston Peabody
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE LITTLE PAST ***
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