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+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75578 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+POEMS OF CHILDHOOD
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+ POEMS OF CHILDHOOD
+ BY EVGENE FIELD
+ WITH ILLVSTRATIONS
+ BY MAXFIELD PARRISH
+
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
+ NEW YORK MCMIV
+]
+
+
+
+
+ WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM
+ Copyright, 1892
+ By MARY FRENCH FIELD
+
+ LOVE SONGS OF CHILDHOOD
+ Copyright, 1894
+ By EUGENE FIELD
+
+ Copyright, 1904
+ By CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
+ Published, September, 1904
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ PAGE
+
+ WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM 1
+
+ KRINKEN 3
+
+ THE NAUGHTY DOLL 5
+
+ NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT 7
+
+ INTRY-MINTRY 9
+
+ PITTYPAT AND TIPPYTOE 11
+
+ BALOW, MY BONNIE 14
+
+ THE HAWTHORNE CHILDREN 16
+
+ LITTLE BLUE PIGEON (Japanese Lullaby) 19
+
+ THE LYTTEL BOY 20
+
+ TEENY-WEENY 22
+
+ NELLIE 25
+
+ NORSE LULLABY 27
+
+ THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE 28
+
+ GRANDMA’S PRAYER 30
+
+ SOME TIME 31
+
+ THE FIRE-HANGBIRD’S NEST 33
+
+ BUTTERCUP, POPPY, FORGET-ME-NOT 36
+
+ GOLD AND LOVE FOR DEARIE 38
+
+ THE PEACE OF CHRISTMAS-TIME 40
+
+ TO A LITTLE BROOK 42
+
+ CROODLIN’ DOO[A] 45
+
+ LITTLE MISTRESS SANS-MERCI 46
+
+ LONG AGO 48
+
+ IN THE FIRELIGHT 50
+
+ COBBLER AND STORK (Armenian Folk-Lore) 52
+
+ “LOLLYBY, LOLLY, LOLLYBY” 56
+
+ LIZZIE AND THE BABY 58
+
+ AT THE DOOR 60
+
+ HUGO’S “CHILD AT PLAY” 61
+
+ WYNKEN, BLYNKEN AND NOD (Dutch Lullaby) 62
+
+ HI-SPY 65
+
+ LITTLE BOY BLUE 66
+
+ FATHER’S LETTER 68
+
+ JEWISH LULLABY 71
+
+ OUR WHIPPINGS 73
+
+ THE ARMENIAN MOTHER (Folk-Song) 76
+
+ HEIGHO, MY DEARIE 78
+
+ TO A USURPER 80
+
+ THE BELL-FLOWER TREE 82
+
+ FAIRY AND CHILD 85
+
+ THE GRANDSIRE 87
+
+ HUSHABY, SWEET MY OWN 89
+
+ CHILD AND MOTHER 91
+
+ MEDIEVAL EVENTIDE SONG 93
+
+ THE LITTLE PEACH 95
+
+ ARMENIAN LULLABY 97
+
+ CHRISTMAS TREASURES 99
+
+ OH, LITTLE CHILD 101
+
+ GANDERFEATHER’S GIFT 102
+
+ BAMBINO (Sicilian Folk-Song) 104
+
+ LITTLE HOMER’S SLATE 106
+
+ THE ROCK-A-BY LADY 108
+
+ “BOOH!” 110
+
+ GARDEN AND CRADLE 111
+
+ THE NIGHT WIND 112
+
+ KISSING TIME 114
+
+ JEST ’FORE CHRISTMAS 116
+
+ BEARD AND BABY 118
+
+ THE DINKEY-BIRD 120
+
+ THE DRUM 123
+
+ THE DEAD BABE 125
+
+ THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD 127
+
+ SO, SO, ROCK-A-BY SO! 129
+
+ THE SONG OF LUDDY-DUD 131
+
+ THE DUEL 133
+
+ GOOD-CHILDREN STREET 135
+
+ THE DELECTABLE BALLAD OF THE WALLER LOT 137
+
+ THE FLY-AWAY HORSE 144
+
+ THE STORK 147
+
+ THE BOTTLE TREE 149
+
+ GOOGLY-GOO 151
+
+ THE BENCH-LEGGED FYCE 154
+
+ LITTLE MISS BRAG 157
+
+ THE HUMMING-TOP 159
+
+ LADY BUTTON-EYES 161
+
+ THE RIDE TO BUMPVILLE 164
+
+ THE BROOK 166
+
+ PICNIC-TIME 168
+
+ SHUFFLE-SHOON AND AMBER-LOCKS 170
+
+ THE SHUT-EYE TRAIN 172
+
+ LITTLE-OH-DEAR 175
+
+ SWING HIGH AND SWING LOW 177
+
+ WHEN I WAS A BOY 178
+
+ AT PLAY 180
+
+ A VALENTINE 182
+
+ LITTLE ALL-ALONEY 184
+
+ THE CUNNIN’ LITTLE THING 186
+
+ THE DOLL’S WOOING 188
+
+ INSCRIPTION FOR MY LITTLE SON’S SILVER PLATE 190
+
+ SEEIN’ THINGS 191
+
+ FISHERMAN JIM’S KIDS 193
+
+ “FIDDLE-DEE-DEE” 196
+
+ OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY 198
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] Cooing Dove
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+FROM DRAWINGS IN COLORS BY MAXFIELD PARRISH
+
+
+ FACING
+ PAGE
+
+ WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM 2
+
+ With big tin trumpet and little red drum,
+ Marching like soldiers, the children come!
+
+
+ THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE 28
+
+ And you carry away of the treasure that rains
+ As much as your apron can hold!
+
+
+ WYNKEN, BLYNKEN AND NOD 62
+
+ Wynken, Blynken and Nod one night
+ Sailed off in a wooden shoe--
+ Sailed on a river of crystal light,
+ Into a sea of dew.
+
+
+ THE LITTLE PEACH 96
+
+ John took a bite and Sue a chew,
+ And then the trouble began to brew,--
+ Trouble the doctor couldn’t subdue.
+ Too true!
+
+
+ THE DINKEY-BIRD 120
+
+ In an ocean, ’way out yonder
+ (As all sapient people know),
+ Is the land of Wonder-Wander,
+ Whither children love to go.
+
+
+ THE FLY-AWAY HORSE 144
+
+ And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands
+ You little folk dream of at night--
+
+
+ SHUFFLE-SHOON AND AMBER-LOCKS 170
+
+ Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks
+ Sit together, building blocks;
+ Shuffle-Shoon is old and gray,
+ Amber-Locks a little child.
+
+
+ SEEIN’ THINGS 192
+
+ I woke up in the dark an’ saw things standin’ in a row,
+ A-lookin’ at me cross-eyed an’ p’intin’ at me--so!
+
+
+
+
+POEMS OF CHILDHOOD
+
+
+
+
+WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM
+
+
+ With big tin trumpet and little red drum,
+ Marching like soldiers, the children come!
+ It’s this way and that way they circle and file--
+ My! but that music of theirs is fine!
+ This way and that way, and after a while
+ They march straight into this heart of mine!
+ A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb
+ To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum!
+
+ Come on, little people, from cot and from hall--
+ This heart it hath welcome and room for you all!
+ It will sing you its songs and warm you with love,
+ As your dear little arms with my arms intertwine;
+ It will rock you away to the dreamland above--
+ Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine,
+ And jollier still is it bound to become
+ When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum!
+
+ So come; though I see not _his_ dear little face
+ And hear not _his_ voice in this jubilant place,
+ I know he were happy to bid me enshrine
+ His memory deep in my heart with your play--
+ Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine
+ Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!
+ And my heart it is lonely--so, little folk, come,
+ March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!
+
+[Illustration: _With Trumpet and Drum_]
+
+
+
+
+KRINKEN
+
+
+ Krinken was a little child,--
+ It was summer when he smiled.
+ Oft the hoary sea and grim
+ Stretched its white arms out to him,
+ Calling, “Sun-child, come to me;
+ Let me warm my heart with thee!”
+ But the child heard not the sea.
+
+ Krinken on the beach one day
+ Saw a maiden Nis at play;
+ Fair, and very fair, was she,
+ Just a little child was he.
+ “Krinken,” said the maiden Nis,
+ “Let me have a little kiss,--
+ Just a kiss, and go with me
+ To the summer-lands that be
+ Down within the silver sea.”
+ Krinken was a little child,
+ By the maiden Nis beguiled;
+ Down into the calling sea
+ With the maiden Nis went he.
+
+ But the sea calls out no more;
+ It is winter on the shore,--
+ Winter where that little child
+ Made sweet summer when he smiled:
+ Though ’tis summer on the sea
+ Where with maiden Nis went he,--
+ Summer, summer evermore,--
+ It is winter on the shore,
+ Winter, winter evermore.
+
+ Of the summer on the deep
+ Come sweet visions in my sleep;
+ _His_ fair face lifts from the sea,
+ _His_ dear voice calls out to me,--
+ These my dreams of summer be.
+
+ Krinken was a little child,
+ By the maiden Nis beguiled;
+ Oft the hoary sea and grim
+ Reached its longing arms to him,
+ Crying, “Sun-child, come to me;
+ Let me warm my heart with thee!”
+ But the sea calls out no more;
+ It is winter on the shore,--
+ Winter, cold and dark and wild;
+ Krinken was a little child,--
+ It was summer when he smiled;
+ Down he went into the sea,
+ And the winter bides with me.
+ Just a little child was he.
+
+
+
+
+THE NAUGHTY DOLL
+
+
+ My dolly is a dreadful care,--
+ Her name is Miss Amandy;
+ I dress her up and curl her hair,
+ And feed her taffy candy.
+ Yet heedless of the pleading voice
+ Of her devoted mother,
+ She will not wed her mother’s choice,
+ But says she’ll wed another.
+
+ I’d have her wed the china vase,--
+ There is no Dresden rarer;
+ You might go searching every place
+ And never find a fairer.
+ He is a gentle, pinkish youth,--
+ Of that there’s no denying;
+ Yet when I speak of him, forsooth,
+ Amandy falls to crying!
+
+ She loves the drum--that’s very plain--
+ And scorns the vase so clever;
+ And weeping, vows she will remain
+ A spinster doll forever!
+ The protestations of the drum
+ I am convinced are hollow;
+ When once distressing times should come,
+ How soon would ruin follow!
+
+ Yet all in vain the Dresden boy
+ From yonder mantel woos her;
+ A mania for that vulgar toy,
+ The noisy drum, imbues her!
+ In vain I wheel her to and fro,
+ And reason with her mildly,--
+ Her waxen tears in torrents flow,
+ Her sawdust heart beats wildly.
+
+ I’m sure that when I’m big and tall,
+ And wear long trailing dresses,
+ I sha’n’t encourage beaux at all
+ Till mama acquiesces;
+ Our choice will be a suitor then
+ As pretty as this vase is,--
+ Oh, how we’ll hate the noisy men
+ With whiskers on their faces!
+
+
+
+
+NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT
+
+
+ The mill goes toiling slowly around
+ With steady and solemn creak,
+ And my little one hears in the kindly sound
+ The voice of the old mill speak.
+ While round and round those big white wings
+ Grimly and ghostlike creep,
+ My little one hears that the old mill sings:
+ “Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”
+
+ The sails are reefed and the nets are drawn,
+ And, over his pot of beer,
+ The fisher, against the morrow’s dawn,
+ Lustily maketh cheer;
+ He mocks at the winds that caper along
+ From the far-off clamorous deep--
+ But we--we love their lullaby song
+ Of “Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”
+
+ Old dog Fritz in slumber sound
+ Groans of the stony mart--
+ To-morrow how proudly he’ll trot you round,
+ Hitched to our new milk-cart!
+ And you shall help me blanket the kine
+ And fold the gentle sheep
+ And set the herring a-soak in brine--
+ But now, little tulip, sleep!
+
+ A Dream-One comes to button the eyes
+ That wearily droop and blink,
+ While the old mill buffets the frowning skies
+ And scolds at the stars that wink;
+ Over your face the misty wings
+ Of that beautiful Dream-One sweep,
+ And rocking your cradle she softly sings:
+ “Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”
+
+
+
+
+INTRY-MINTRY
+
+
+ Willy and Bess, Georgie and May--
+ Once, as these children were hard at play,
+ An old man, hoary and tottering, came
+ And watched them playing their pretty game.
+ He seemed to wonder, while standing there,
+ What the meaning thereof could be--
+ Aha, but the old man yearned to share
+ Of the little children’s innocent glee
+ As they circled around with laugh and shout
+ And told their rime at counting out:
+ “Intry-mintry, cutrey-corn,
+ Apple-seed and apple-thorn;
+ Wire, brier, limber, lock,
+ Twelve geese in a flock;
+ Some flew east, some flew west,
+ Some flew over the cuckoo’s nest!”
+
+ Willie and Bess, Georgie and May--
+ Ah, the mirth of that summer-day!
+ ’Twas Father Time who had come to share
+ The innocent joy of those children there;
+ He learned betimes the game they played
+ And into their sport with them went he--
+ How _could_ the children have been afraid,
+ Since little they recked who he might be?
+ They laughed to hear old Father Time
+ Mumbling that curious nonsense rime
+ Of “Intry-mintry, cutrey-corn,
+ Apple-seed and apple-thorn;
+ Wire, brier, limber, lock,
+ Twelve geese in a flock;
+ Some flew east, some flew west,
+ Some flew over the cuckoo’s nest!”
+
+ Willie and Bess, Georgie and May,
+ And joy of summer--where are they?
+ The grim old man still standeth near
+ Crooning the song of a far-off year;
+ And into the winter I come alone,
+ Cheered by that mournful requiem,
+ Soothed by the dolorous monotone
+ That shall count me off as it counted them--
+ The solemn voice of old Father Time
+ Chanting the homely nursery rime
+ He learned of the children a summer morn
+ When, with “apple-seed and apple-thorn,”
+ Life was full of the dulcet cheer
+ That bringeth the grace of heaven anear--
+ The sound of the little ones hard at play--
+ Willie and Bess, Georgie and May.
+
+
+
+
+PITTYPAT AND TIPPYTOE
+
+
+ All day long they come and go--
+ Pittypat and Tippytoe;
+ Footprints up and down the hall,
+ Playthings scattered on the floor,
+ Finger-marks along the wall,
+ Tell-tale smudges on the door--
+ By these presents you shall know
+ Pittypat and Tippytoe.
+
+ How they riot at their play!
+ And a dozen times a day
+ In they troop, demanding bread--
+ Only buttered bread will do,
+ And that butter must be spread
+ Inches thick with sugar too!
+ And I never can say, “No,
+ Pittypat and Tippytoe!”
+
+ Sometimes there are griefs to soothe,
+ Sometimes ruffled brows to smooth;
+ For (I much regret to say)
+ Tippytoe and Pittypat
+ Sometimes interrupt their play
+ With an internecine spat;
+ Fie, for shame! to quarrel so--
+ Pittypat and Tippytoe!
+
+ Oh, the thousand worrying things
+ Every day recurrent brings!
+ Hands to scrub and hair to brush,
+ Search for playthings gone amiss,
+ Many a wee complaint to hush,
+ Many a little bump to kiss;
+ Life seems one vain, fleeting show
+ To Pittypat and Tippytoe!
+
+ And when day is at an end,
+ There are little duds to mend:
+ Little frocks are strangely torn,
+ Little shoes great holes reveal,
+ Little hose, but one day worn,
+ Rudely yawn at toe and heel!
+ Who but _you_ could work such woe,
+ Pittypat and Tippytoe?
+
+ But when comes this thought to me:
+ “Some there are that childless be,”
+ Stealing to their little beds,
+ With a love I cannot speak,
+ Tenderly I stroke their heads--
+ Fondly kiss each velvet cheek.
+ God help those who do not know
+ A Pittypat or Tippytoe!
+
+ On the floor and down the hall,
+ Rudely smutched upon the wall,
+ There are proofs in every kind
+ Of the havoc they have wrought,
+ And upon my heart you’d find
+ Just such trade-marks, if you sought;
+ Oh, how glad I am ’tis so,
+ Pittypat and Tippytoe!
+
+
+
+
+BALOW, MY BONNIE
+
+
+ Hush, bonnie, dinna greit;
+ Moder will rocke her sweete,--
+ Balow, my boy!
+ When that his toile ben done,
+ Daddie will come anone,--
+ Hush thee, my lyttel one;
+ Balow, my boy!
+
+ Gin thou dost sleepe, perchaunce
+ Fayries will come to daunce,--
+ Balow, my boy!
+ Oft hath thy moder seene
+ Moonlight and mirkland queene
+ Daunce on thy slumbering een,--
+ Balow, my boy!
+
+ Then droned a bomblebee
+ Saftly this songe to thee:
+ “Balow, my boy!”
+ And a wee heather bell,
+ Pluckt from a fayry dell,
+ Chimed thee this rune hersell:
+ “Balow, my boy!”
+
+ Soe, bonnie, dinna greit;
+ Moder doth rock her sweete,--
+ Balow, my boy!
+ Give mee thy lyttel hand,
+ Moder will hold it and
+ Lead thee to balow land,--
+ Balow, my boy!
+
+
+
+
+THE HAWTHORNE CHILDREN
+
+
+ The Hawthorne children--seven in all--
+ Are famous friends of mine,
+ And with what pleasure I recall
+ How, years ago, one gloomy fall,
+ I took a tedious railway line
+ And journeyed by slow stages down
+ Unto that sleepy seaport town
+ (Albeit one worth seeing),
+ Where Hildegarde, John, Henry, Fred,
+ And Beatrix and Gwendolen
+ And she that was the baby then--
+ These famous seven, as aforesaid,
+ Lived, moved, and had their being.
+
+ The Hawthorne children gave me such
+ A welcome by the sea,
+ That the eight of us were soon in touch,
+ And though their mother marvelled much,
+ Happy as larks were we!
+ Egad I was a boy again
+ With Henry, John, and Gwendolen!
+ And, oh! the funny capers
+ I cut with Hildegarde and Fred!
+ The pranks we heedless children played,
+ The deafening, awful noise we made--
+ ’Twould shock my family, if they read
+ About it in the papers!
+
+ The Hawthorne children all were smart;
+ The girls, as I recall,
+ Had comprehended every art
+ Appealing to the head and heart,
+ The boys were gifted, all;
+ ’Twas Hildegarde who showed me how
+ To hitch the horse and milk a cow
+ And cook the best of suppers;
+ With Beatrix upon the sands
+ I sprinted daily, and was beat,
+ While Henry stumped me to the feat
+ Of walking round upon my hands
+ Instead of on my “uppers.”
+
+ The Hawthorne children liked me best
+ Of evenings, after tea;
+ For then, by general request,
+ I spun them yarns about the west--
+ And _all_ involving Me!
+ I represented how I’d slain
+ The bison on the gore-smeared plain,
+ And divers tales of wonder
+ I told of how I’d fought and bled
+ In Injun scrimmages galore,
+ Till Mrs. Hawthorne quoth, “No more!”
+ And packed her darlings off to bed
+ To dream of blood and thunder!
+
+ They must have changed a deal since then:
+ The misses tall and fair,
+ And those three lusty, handsome men,
+ Would they be girls and boys again
+ Were I to happen there,
+ Down in that spot beside the sea
+ Where we made such tumultuous glee
+ In dull autumnal weather?
+ Ah me! the years go swiftly by,
+ And yet how fondly I recall
+ The week when we were children all--
+ Dear Hawthorne children, you and I--
+ Just eight of us, together!
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE BLUE PIGEON
+
+
+ Sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings--
+ Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes;
+ Sleep to the singing of mother-bird swinging--
+ Swinging the nest where her little one lies.
+
+ Away out yonder I see a star--
+ Silvery star with a tinkling song;
+ To the soft dew falling I hear it calling--
+ Calling and tinkling the night along.
+
+ In through the window a moonbeam comes--
+ Little gold moonbeam with misty wings;
+ All silently creeping, it asks: “Is he sleeping--
+ Sleeping and dreaming while mother sings?”
+
+ Up from the sea there floats the sob
+ Of the waves that are breaking upon the shore,
+ As though they were groaning in anguish, and moaning--
+ Bemoaning the ship that shall come no more.
+
+ But sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings--
+ Little blue pigeon with mournful eyes;
+ Am I not singing?--see, I am swinging--
+ Swinging the nest where my darling lies.
+
+
+
+
+THE LYTTEL BOY
+
+
+ Some time there ben a lyttel boy
+ That wolde not renne and play,
+ And helpless like that little tyke
+ Ben allwais in the way.
+ “Goe, make you merrie with the rest,”
+ His weary moder cried;
+ But with a frown he catcht her gown
+ And hong untill her side.
+
+ That boy did love his moder well,
+ Which spake him faire, I ween;
+ He loved to stand and hold her hand
+ And ken her with his een;
+ His cosset bleated in the croft,
+ His toys unheeded lay,--
+ He wolde not goe, but, tarrying soe,
+ Ben allwais in the way.
+
+ Godde loveth children and doth gird
+ His throne with soche as these,
+ And he doth smile in plaisaunce while
+ They cluster at his knees;
+ And some time, when he looked on earth
+ And watched the bairns at play,
+ He kenned with joy a lyttel boy
+ Ben allwais in the way.
+
+ And then a moder felt her heart
+ How that it ben to-torne,
+ She kissed eche day till she ben gray
+ The shoon he use to worn;
+ No bairn let hold untill her gown
+ Nor played upon the floore,--
+ Godde’s was the joy; a lyttel boy
+ Ben in the way no more!
+
+
+
+
+TEENY-WEENY
+
+
+ Every evening, after tea,
+ Teeny-Weeny comes to me,
+ And, astride my willing knee,
+ Plies his lash and rides away;
+ Though that palfrey, all too spare,
+ Finds his burden hard to bear,
+ Teeny-Weeny doesn’t care;
+ He commands, and I obey!
+
+ First it’s trot, and gallop then;
+ Now it’s back to trot again;
+ Teeny-Weeny likes it when
+ He is riding fierce and fast.
+ Then his dark eyes brighter grow
+ And his cheeks are all aglow:
+ “More!” he cries, and never “Whoa!”
+ Till the horse breaks down at last.
+
+ Oh, the strange and lovely sights
+ Teeny-Weeny sees of nights,
+ As he makes those famous flights
+ On that wondrous horse of his!
+ Oftentimes before he knows,
+ Wearylike his eyelids close,
+ And, still smiling, off he goes
+ Where the land of By-low is.
+
+ There he sees the folk of fay
+ Hard at ring-a-rosie play,
+ And he hears those fairies say:
+ “Come, let’s chase him to and fro!”
+ But, with a defiant shout,
+ Teeny puts that host to rout;
+ Of this tale I make no doubt,
+ Every night he tells it so.
+
+ So I feel a tender pride
+ In my boy who dares to ride
+ That fierce horse of his astride,
+ Off into those misty lands;
+ And as on my breast he lies,
+ Dreaming in that wondrous wise,
+ I caress his folded eyes,
+ Pat his little dimpled hands.
+
+ On a time he went away,
+ Just a little while to stay,
+ And I’m not ashamed to say
+ I was very lonely then;
+ Life without him was so sad,
+ You can fancy I was glad
+ And made merry when I had
+ Teeny-Weeny back again!
+
+ So of evenings, after tea,
+ When he toddles up to me
+ And goes tugging at my knee,
+ You should hear his palfrey neigh!
+ You should see him prance and shy,
+ When, with an exulting cry,
+ Teeny-Weeny, vaulting high,
+ Plies his lash and rides away!
+
+
+
+
+NELLIE
+
+
+ His listening soul hears no echo of battle,
+ No pæan of triumph nor welcome of fame;
+ But down through the years comes a little one’s prattle,
+ And softly he murmurs her idolized name.
+ And it seems as if now at his heart she were clinging
+ As she clung in those dear, distant years to his knee;
+ He sees her fair face, and he hears her sweet singing--
+ And Nellie is coming from over the sea.
+
+ While each patriot’s hope stays the fulness of sorrow,
+ While our eyes are bedimmed and our voices are low,
+ He dreams of the daughter who comes with the morrow
+ Like an angel come back from the dear long ago.
+ Ah, what to him now is a nation’s emotion,
+ And what for our love or our grief careth he?
+ A swift-speeding ship is a-sail on the ocean,
+ And Nellie is coming from over the sea!
+
+ O daughter--my daughter! when Death stands before me
+ And beckons me off to that far misty shore,
+ Let me see your loved form bending tenderly o’er me,
+ And feel your dear kiss on my lips as of yore.
+ In the grace of your love all my anguish abating,
+ I’ll bear myself bravely and proudly as he,
+ And know the sweet peace that hallowed his waiting
+ When Nellie was coming from over the sea.
+
+
+
+
+NORSE LULLABY
+
+
+ The sky is dark and the hills are white
+ As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night;
+ And this is the song the storm-king sings,
+ As over the world his cloak he flings:
+ “Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep”;
+ He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:
+ “Sleep, little one, sleep.”
+
+ On yonder mountain-side a vine
+ Clings at the foot of a mother pine;
+ The tree bends over the trembling thing,
+ And only the vine can hear her sing:
+ “Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep--
+ What shall you fear when I am here?
+ Sleep, little one, sleep.”
+
+ The king may sing in his bitter flight,
+ The tree may croon to the vine to-night,
+ But the little snowflake at my breast
+ Liketh the song _I_ sing the best--
+ Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;
+ Weary thou art, a-next my heart
+ Sleep, little one, sleep.
+
+
+
+
+THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE
+
+
+ Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
+ ’Tis a marvel of great renown!
+ It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea
+ In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
+ The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
+ (As those who have tasted it say)
+ That good little children have only to eat
+ Of that fruit to be happy next day.
+
+ When you’ve got to the tree, you would have a hard time
+ To capture the fruit which I sing;
+ The tree is so tall that no person could climb
+ To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
+ But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
+ And a gingerbread dog prowls below--
+ And this is the way you contrive to get at
+ Those sugar-plums tempting you so:
+
+ You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
+ And he barks with such terrible zest
+ That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,
+ As her swelling proportions attest.
+ And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around
+ From this leafy limb unto that,
+ And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground--
+ Hurrah for that chocolate cat!
+
+ There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
+ With stripings of scarlet or gold,
+ And you carry away of the treasure that rains
+ As much as your apron can hold!
+ So come, little child, cuddle closer to me
+ In your dainty white nightcap and gown,
+ And I’ll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
+ In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.
+
+[Illustration: _The Sugar-plum Tree_]
+
+
+
+
+GRANDMA’S PRAYER
+
+
+ I pray that, risen from the dead,
+ I may in glory stand--
+ A crown, perhaps, upon my head,
+ But a needle in my hand.
+
+ I’ve never learned to sing or play,
+ So let no harp be mine;
+ From birth unto my dying day,
+ Plain sewing’s been my line.
+
+ Therefore, accustomed to the end
+ To plying useful stitches,
+ I’ll be content if asked to mend
+ The little angels’ breeches.
+
+
+
+
+SOME TIME
+
+
+ Last night, my darling, as you slept,
+ I thought I heard you sigh,
+ And to your little crib I crept,
+ And watched a space thereby;
+ Then, bending down, I kissed your brow--
+ For, oh! I love you so--
+ You are too young to know it now,
+ But some time you shall know.
+
+ Some time, when, in a darkened place
+ Where others come to weep,
+ Your eyes shall see a weary face
+ Calm in eternal sleep;
+ The speechless lips, the wrinkled brow,
+ The patient smile may show--
+ You are too young to know it now,
+ But some time you shall know.
+
+ Look backward, then, into the years,
+ And see me here to-night--
+ See, O my darling! how my tears
+ Are falling as I write;
+ And feel once more upon your brow
+ The kiss of long ago--
+ You are too young to know it now,
+ But some time you shall know.
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRE-HANGBIRD’S NEST
+
+
+ As I am sitting in the sun upon the porch to-day,
+ I look with wonder at the elm that stands across the way;
+ I say and mean “with wonder,” for now it seems to me
+ That elm is not as tall as years ago it used to be!
+ The old fire-hangbird’s built her nest therein for many springs--
+ High up amid the sportive winds the curious cradle swings,
+ But not so high as when a little boy I did my best
+ To scale that elm and carry off the old fire-hangbird’s nest!
+
+ The Hubbard boys had tried in vain to reach the homely prize
+ That dangled from that upper outer twig in taunting wise,
+ And once, when Deacon Turner’s boy had almost grasped the limb,
+ He fell! and had to have a doctor operate on him!
+ Philetus Baker broke his leg and Orrin Root his arm--
+ But what of that? The danger gave the sport a special charm!
+ The Bixby and the Cutler boys, the Newtons and the rest
+ Ran every risk to carry off the old fire-hangbird’s nest!
+
+ I can remember that I used to knee my trousers through,
+ That mother used to wonder how my legs got black and blue,
+ And how she used to talk to me and make stern threats when she
+ Discovered that my hobby was the nest in yonder tree;
+ How, as she patched my trousers or greased my purple legs,
+ She told me ’twould be wicked to destroy a hangbird’s eggs,
+ And then she’d call on father and on gran’pa to attest
+ That they, as boys, had never robbed an old fire-hangbird’s nest!
+
+ Yet all those years I coveted the trophy flaunting there,
+ While, as it were in mockery of my abject despair,
+ The old fire-hangbird confidently used to come and go,
+ As if she were indifferent to the bandit horde below!
+ And sometimes clinging to her nest we thought we heard her chide
+ The callow brood whose cries betrayed the fear that reigned inside:
+ “Hush, little dears! all profitless shall be their wicked quest--
+ I knew my business when I built the old fire-hangbird’s nest!”
+
+ For many, very many years that mother-bird has come
+ To rear her pretty little brood within that cosey home.
+ She is the selfsame bird of old--I’m certain it is she--
+ Although the chances are that she has quite forgotten me.
+ Just as of old that prudent, crafty bird of compound name
+ (And in parenthesis I’ll say her nest is still the same);
+ Just as of old the passion, too, that fires the youthful breast
+ To climb unto and comprehend the old fire-hangbird’s nest!
+
+ I like to see my old-time friend swing in that ancient tree,
+ And, if the elm’s as tall and sturdy as it _used_ to be,
+ I’m sure that many a year that nest shall in the breezes blow,
+ For boys aren’t what they used to be a forty years ago!
+ The elm looks shorter than it did when Brother Rufe and I
+ Beheld with envious hearts that trophy flaunted from on high;
+ He writes that in the city where he’s living ’way out West
+ His little boys have never seen an old fire-hangbird’s nest!
+
+ Poor little chaps! how lonesomelike their city life must be--
+ I wish they’d come and live awhile in this old house with me!
+ They’d have the honest friends and healthful sports I used to know
+ When Brother Rufe and I were boys a forty years ago.
+ So, when they grew from romping lads to busy, useful men,
+ They could recall with proper pride their country life again;
+ And of those recollections of their youth I’m sure the best
+ Would be of how they sought in vain the old fire-hangbird’s nest!
+
+
+
+
+BUTTERCUP, POPPY, FORGET-ME-NOT
+
+
+ Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not--
+ These three bloomed in a garden spot;
+ And once, all merry with song and play,
+ A little one heard three voices say:
+ “Shine and shadow, summer and spring,
+ O thou child with the tangled hair
+ And laughing eyes! we three shall bring
+ Each an offering passing fair.”
+ The little one did not understand,
+ But they bent and kissed the dimpled hand.
+
+ Buttercup gambolled all day long,
+ Sharing the little one’s mirth and song;
+ Then, stealing along on misty gleams,
+ Poppy came bearing the sweetest dreams.
+ Playing and dreaming--and that was all,
+ Till once a sleeper would not awake;
+ Kissing the little face under the pall,
+ We thought of the words the third flower spake;
+ And we found betimes in a hallowed spot
+ The solace and peace of Forget-me-not.
+
+ Buttercup shareth the joy of day,
+ Glinting with gold the hours of play;
+ Bringeth the Poppy sweet repose,
+ When the hands would fold and the eyes would close;
+ And after it all--the play and the sleep
+ Of a little life--what cometh then?
+ To the hearts that ache and the eyes that weep
+ A new flower bringeth God’s peace again.
+ Each one serveth its tender lot--
+ Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not.
+
+
+
+
+GOLD AND LOVE FOR DEARIE
+
+
+ Out on the mountain over the town,
+ All night long, all night long,
+ The trolls go up and the trolls go down,
+ Bearing their packs and singing a song;
+ And this is the song the hill-folk croon,
+ As they trudge in the light of the misty moon--
+ This is ever their dolorous tune:
+ “Gold, gold! ever more gold--
+ Bright red gold for dearie!”
+
+ Deep in the hill a father delves
+ All night long, all night long;
+ None but the peering, furtive elves
+ Sees his toil and hears his song;
+ Merrily ever the cavern rings
+ As merrily ever his pick he swings,
+ And merrily ever this song he sings:
+ “Gold, gold! ever more gold--
+ Bright red gold for dearie!”
+
+ Mother is rocking thy lowly bed
+ All night long, all night long,
+ Happy to smooth thy curly head,
+ To hold thy hand and to sing _her_ song:
+ ’Tis not of the hill-folk dwarfed and old,
+ Nor the song of thy father, stanch and bold,
+ And the burthen it beareth is not of gold;
+ But it’s “Love, love! nothing but love--
+ Mother’s love for dearie!”
+
+
+
+
+THE PEACE OF CHRISTMAS-TIME
+
+
+ Dearest, how hard it is to say
+ That all is for the best,
+ Since, sometimes, in a grievous way
+ God’s will is manifest.
+
+ See with what hearty, noisy glee
+ Our little ones to-night
+ Dance round and round our Christmas tree
+ With pretty toys bedight.
+
+ Dearest, one voice they may not hear,
+ One face they may not see--
+ Ah, what of all this Christmas cheer
+ Cometh to you and me?
+
+ Cometh before our misty eyes
+ That other little face,
+ And we clasp, in tender, reverent wise,
+ That love in the old embrace.
+
+ Dearest, the Christ-Child walks to-night,
+ Bringing his peace to men,
+ And he bringeth to you and to me the light
+ Of the old, old years again.
+
+ Bringeth the peace of long ago,
+ When a wee one clasped your knee
+ And lisped of the morrow--dear one, you know--
+ And here come back is he!
+
+ Dearest, ’tis sometimes hard to say
+ That all is for the best,
+ For, often, in a grievous way
+ God’s will is manifest.
+
+ But in the grace of this holy night
+ That bringeth us back our child,
+ Let us see that the ways of God are right,
+ And so be reconciled.
+
+
+
+
+TO A LITTLE BROOK
+
+
+ You’re not so big as you were then,
+ O little brook!--
+ I mean those hazy summers when
+ We boys roamed, full of awe, beside
+ Your noisy, foaming, tumbling tide,
+ And wondered if it could be true
+ That there were bigger brooks than you,
+ O mighty brook, O peerless brook!
+
+ All up and down this reedy place
+ Where lives the brook,
+ We angled for the furtive dace;
+ The redwing-blackbird did his best
+ To make us think he’d build his nest
+ Hard by the stream, when, like as not,
+ He’d hung it in a secret spot
+ Far from the brook, the telltale brook!
+
+ And often, when the noontime heat
+ Parboiled the brook,
+ We’d draw our boots and swing our feet
+ Upon the waves that, in their play,
+ Would tag us last and scoot away;
+ And mother never seemed to know
+ What burnt our legs and chapped them so--
+ But father guessed it was the brook!
+
+ And Fido--how he loved to swim
+ The cooling brook,
+ Whenever we’d throw sticks for him;
+ And how we boys _did_ wish that we
+ Could only swim as good as he--
+ Why, Daniel Webster never was
+ Recipient of such great applause
+ As Fido, battling with the brook!
+
+ But once--O most unhappy day
+ For you, my brook!--
+ Came Cousin Sam along that way;
+ And, having lived a spell out West,
+ Where creeks aren’t counted much at best,
+ He neither waded, swam, nor leapt,
+ But, with superb indifference, _stept_
+ Across that brook--our mighty brook!
+
+ Why do you scamper on your way,
+ You little brook,
+ When I come back to you to-day?
+ Is it because you flee the grass
+ That lunges at you as you pass,
+ As if, in playful mood, it would
+ Tickle the truant if it could,
+ You chuckling brook--you saucy brook?
+
+ Or is it you no longer know--
+ You fickle brook--
+ The honest friend of long ago?
+ The years that kept us twain apart
+ Have changed my face, but not my heart--
+ Many and sore those years, and yet
+ I fancied you could not forget
+ That happy time, my playmate brook!
+
+ Oh, sing again in artless glee,
+ My little brook,
+ The song you used to sing for me--
+ The song that’s lingered in my ears
+ So soothingly these many years;
+ My grief shall be forgotten when
+ I hear your tranquil voice again
+ And that sweet song, dear little brook!
+
+
+
+
+CROODLIN’ DOO
+
+
+ Ho, pretty bee, did you see my croodlin’ doo?
+ Ho, little lamb, is she jinkin’ on the lea?
+ Ho, bonnie fairy, bring my dearie back to me--
+ Got a lump o’ sugar an’ a posie for you,
+ Only bring me back my wee, wee croodlin’ doo!
+
+ Why! here you are, my little croodlin’ doo!
+ Looked in er cradle, but didn’t find you there--
+ Looked f’r my wee, wee croodlin’ doo ever’where;
+ B’en kind lonesome all er day withouten you--
+ Where you be’n, my teeny, wee, wee croodlin’ doo?
+
+ Now you go balow, my little croodlin’ doo;
+ Now you go rockaby ever so far,--
+ Rockaby, rockaby up to the star
+ That’s winkin’ an’ blinkin’ an’ singin’ to you,
+ As you go balow, my wee, wee croodlin’ doo!
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE MISTRESS SANS-MERCI
+
+
+ Little Mistress Sans-Merci
+ Fareth world-wide, fancy free:
+ Trotteth cooing to and fro,
+ And her cooing is command--
+ Never ruled there yet, I trow,
+ Mightier despot in the land.
+ And my heart it lieth where
+ Mistress Sans-Merci doth fare.
+
+ Little Mistress Sans-Merci--
+ She hath made a slave of me!
+ “Go,” she biddeth, and I go--
+ “Come,” and I am fain to come--
+ Never mercy doth she show,
+ Be she wroth or frolicsome,
+ Yet am I content to be
+ Slave to Mistress Sans-Merci!
+
+ Little Mistress Sans-Merci
+ Hath become so dear to me
+ That I count as passing sweet
+ All the pain her moods impart,
+ And I bless the little feet
+ That go trampling on my heart:
+ Ah, how lonely life would be
+ But for little Sans-Merci!
+
+ Little Mistress Sans-Merci,
+ Cuddle close this night to me,
+ And the heart, which all day long
+ Ruthless thou hast trod upon,
+ Shall outpour a soothing song
+ For its best-belovèd one--
+ All its tenderness for thee,
+ Little Mistress Sans-Merci!
+
+
+
+
+LONG AGO
+
+
+ I once knew all the birds that came
+ And nested in our orchard trees,
+ For every flower I had a name,--
+ My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees;
+ I knew where thrived in yonder glen
+ What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe--
+ Oh, I was very learned then,
+ But that was very long ago.
+
+ I knew the spot upon the hill
+ Where checkerberries could be found,
+ I knew the rushes near the mill
+ Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound!
+ I knew the wood--the very tree
+ Where lived the poaching, saucy crow,
+ And all the woods and crows knew me--
+ But that was very long ago.
+
+ And pining for the joys of youth,
+ I tread the old familiar spot
+ Only to learn this solemn truth:
+ I have forgotten, am forgot.
+ Yet here’s this youngster at my knee
+ Knows all the things I used to know;
+ To think I once was wise as he!--
+ But that was very long ago.
+
+ I know it’s folly to complain
+ Of whatsoe’er the fates decree,
+ Yet, were not wishes all in vain,
+ I tell you what my wish should be:
+ I’d wish to be a boy again,
+ Back with the friends I used to know.
+ For I was, oh, so happy then--
+ But that was very long ago!
+
+
+
+
+IN THE FIRELIGHT
+
+
+ The fire upon the hearth is low,
+ And there is stillness everywhere,
+ And, like wing’d spirits, here and there
+ The firelight shadows fluttering go.
+ And as the shadows round me creep,
+ A childish treble breaks the gloom,
+ And softly from a further room
+ Comes: “Now I lay me down to sleep.”
+
+ And, somehow, with that little pray’r
+ And that sweet treble in my ears,
+ My thought goes back to distant years,
+ And lingers with a dear one there;
+ And as I hear my child’s amen,
+ My mother’s faith comes back to me--
+ Crouched at her side I seem to be,
+ And mother holds my hands again.
+
+ Oh, for an hour in that dear place--
+ Oh, for the peace of that dear time--
+ Oh, for that childish trust sublime--
+ Oh, for a glimpse of mother’s face!
+ Yet, as the shadows round me creep,
+ I do not seem to be alone--
+ Sweet magic of that treble tone
+ And “Now I lay me down to sleep!”
+
+
+
+
+COBBLER AND STORK
+
+
+_Cobbler._
+
+ Stork, I am justly wroth,
+ For thou hast wronged me sore;
+ The ash roof-tree that shelters thee
+ Shall shelter thee no more!
+
+
+_Stork._
+
+ Full fifty years I’ve dwelt
+ Upon this honest tree,
+ And long ago (as people know!)
+ I brought thy father thee.
+ What hail hath chilled thy heart,
+ That thou shouldst bid me go?
+ Speak out, I pray--then I’ll away,
+ Since thou commandest so.
+
+
+_Cobbler._
+
+ Thou tellest of the time
+ When, wheeling from the west,
+ This hut thou sought’st and one thou brought’st
+ Unto a mother’s breast.
+ _I_ was the wretched child
+ Was fetched that dismal morn--
+ ’Twere better die than be (as I)
+ To life of misery born!
+ And hadst thou borne me on
+ Still farther up the town,
+ A king I’d be of high degree,
+ And wear a golden crown!
+ For yonder lives the prince
+ Was brought that selfsame day:
+ How happy he, while--look at me!
+ I toil my life away!
+ And see my little boy--
+ To what estate he’s born!
+ Why, when I die no hoard leave I
+ But poverty and scorn.
+ And _thou_ hast done it all--
+ I might have been a king
+ And ruled in state, but for thy hate,
+ Thou base, perfidious thing!
+
+
+_Stork._
+
+ Since, cobbler, thou dost speak
+ Of one thou lovest well,
+ Hear of that king what grievous thing
+ This very morn befell.
+ Whilst round thy homely bench
+ Thy well-belovèd played,
+ In yonder hall beneath a pall
+ A little one was laid;
+ Thy well-belovèd’s face
+ Was rosy with delight,
+ But ’neath that pall in yonder hall
+ The little face is white;
+ Whilst by a merry voice
+ Thy soul is filled with cheer,
+ Another weeps for one that sleeps
+ All mute and cold anear;
+ One father hath his hope,
+ And one is childless now;
+ _He_ wears a crown and rules a town--
+ Only a cobbler _thou_!
+ Wouldst thou exchange thy lot
+ At price of such a woe?
+ I’ll nest no more above thy door,
+ But, as thou bidst me, go.
+
+
+_Cobbler._
+
+ Nay, stork! thou shalt remain--
+ I mean not what I said;
+ Good neighbors we must always be,
+ So make thy home o’erhead.
+ I would not change my bench
+ For any monarch’s throne,
+ Nor sacrifice at any price
+ My darling and my own!
+ Stork! on my roof-tree bide,
+ That, seeing thee anear,
+ I’ll thankful be God sent by thee
+ Me and my darling here!
+
+
+
+
+“LOLLYBY, LOLLY, LOLLYBY”
+
+
+ Last night, whiles that the curfew bell ben ringing,
+ I heard a moder to her dearie singing,
+ “Lollyby, lolly, lollyby”;
+ And presently that chylde did cease hys weeping,
+ And on his moder’s breast did fall a-sleeping
+ To “lolly, lolly, lollyby.”
+
+ Faire ben the chylde unto his moder clinging,
+ But fairer yet the moder’s gentle singing--
+ “Lollyby, lolly, lollyby”;
+ And angels came and kisst the dearie smiling
+ In dreems while him hys moder ben beguiling
+ With “lolly, lolly, lollyby.”
+
+ Then to my harte saies I: “Oh, that thy beating
+ Colde be assuaged by some sweete voice repeating
+ ‘Lollyby, lolly, lollyby’;
+ That like this lyttel chylde I, too, ben sleeping
+ With plaisaunt phantasies about me creeping,
+ To ‘lolly, lolly, lollyby’!”
+
+ Some time--mayhap when curfew bells are ringing--
+ A weary harte shall heare straunge voices singing
+ “Lollyby, lolly, lollyby”;
+ Some time, mayhap, with Chryst’s love round me streaming,
+ I shall be lulled into eternal dreeming,
+ With “lolly, lolly, lollyby.”
+
+
+
+
+LIZZIE AND THE BABY
+
+
+ I wonder ef all wimmin air
+ Like Lizzie is when we go out
+ To theatres an’ concerts where
+ Is things the papers talk about.
+ Do other wimmin fret an’ stew
+ Like they wuz bein’ crucified--
+ Frettin’ show or concert through,
+ With wonderin’ ef the baby cried?
+
+ Now Lizzie knows that gran’ma’s there
+ To see that everything is right,
+ Yet Lizzie thinks that gran’ma’s care
+ Ain’t good enuff f’r baby, quite;
+ Yet what am I to answer when
+ She kind uv fidgets at my side,
+ An’ asks me every now and then:
+ “I wonder if the baby cried?”
+
+ Seems like she seen two little eyes
+ A-pinin’ f’r their mother’s smile--
+ Seems like she heern the pleadin’ cries
+ Uv one she thinks uv all the while;
+ An’ so she’s sorry that she come,
+ An’ though she allus tries to hide
+ The truth, she’d ruther stay to hum
+ Than wonder ef the baby cried.
+
+ Yes, wimmin folks is all alike--
+ By Lizzie you kin jedge the rest;
+ There never wuz a little tyke,
+ But that his mother loved him best.
+ And nex’ to bein’ what I be--
+ The husband uv my gentle bride--
+ I’d wisht I wuz that croodlin’ wee,
+ With Lizzie wonderin’ ef I cried.
+
+
+
+
+AT THE DOOR
+
+
+ I thought myself, indeed, secure
+ So fast the door, so firm the lock;
+ But, lo! he toddling comes to lure
+ My parent ear with timorous knock.
+
+ My heart were stone could it withstand
+ The sweetness of my baby’s plea,--
+ That timorous, baby knocking and
+ “Please let me in,--it’s only me.”
+
+ I threw aside the unfinished book,
+ Regardless of its tempting charms,
+ And, opening wide the door, I took
+ My laughing darling in my arms.
+
+ Who knows but in Eternity,
+ I, like a truant child, shall wait
+ The glories of a life to be,
+ Beyond the Heavenly Father’s gate?
+
+ And will that Heavenly Father heed
+ The truant’s supplicating cry,
+ As at the outer door I plead,
+ “’Tis I, O Father! only I”?
+
+
+
+
+HUGO’S “CHILD AT PLAY”
+
+
+ A child was singing at his play--
+ I heard the song, and paused to hear;
+ His mother moaning, groaning lay,
+ And, lo! a spectre stood anear!
+
+ The child shook sunlight from his hair,
+ And carolled gayly all day long--
+ Aye, with that spectre gloating there,
+ The innocent made mirth and song!
+
+ How like to harvest fruit wert thou,
+ O sorrow, in that dismal room--
+ God ladeth not the tender bough
+ Save with the joy of bud and bloom!
+
+
+
+
+WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD
+
+
+ Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
+ Sailed off in a wooden shoe--
+ Sailed on a river of crystal light,
+ Into a sea of dew.
+ “Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
+ The old moon asked the three.
+ “We have come to fish for the herring fish
+ That live in this beautiful sea;
+ Nets of silver and gold have we!”
+ Said Wynken,
+ Blynken,
+ And Nod.
+
+ The old moon laughed and sang a song,
+ As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
+ And the wind that sped them all night long
+ Ruffled the waves of dew.
+ The little stars were the herring fish
+ That lived in that beautiful sea--
+ “Now cast your nets wherever you wish--
+ Never afeard are we”;
+ So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
+ Wynken,
+ Blynken,
+ And Nod.
+
+ [Illustration: _Wynken, Blynken, and Nod_]
+
+ All night long their nets they threw
+ To the stars in the twinkling foam--
+ Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
+ Bringing the fishermen home;
+ ’Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed
+ As if it could not be,
+ And some folks thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed
+ Of sailing that beautiful sea--
+ But I shall name you the fishermen three:
+ Wynken,
+ Blynken,
+ And Nod.
+
+ Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
+ And Nod is a little head,
+ And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
+ Is a wee one’s trundle-bed.
+ So shut your eyes while mother sings
+ Of wonderful sights that be,
+ And you shall see the beautiful things
+ As you rock in the misty sea,
+ Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
+ Wynken,
+ Blynken,
+ And Nod.
+
+
+
+
+HI-SPY
+
+
+ Strange that the city thoroughfare,
+ Noisy and bustling all the day,
+ Should with the night renounce its care
+ And lend itself to children’s play!
+
+ Oh, girls are girls, and boys are boys,
+ And have been so since Abel’s birth,
+ And shall be so till dolls and toys
+ Are with the children swept from earth.
+
+ The selfsame sport that crowns the day
+ Of many a Syrian shepherd’s son,
+ Beguiles the little lads at play
+ By night in stately Babylon.
+
+ I hear their voices in the street,
+ Yet ’tis so different now from then!
+ Come, brother! from your winding-sheet,
+ And let us two be boys again!
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE BOY BLUE
+
+
+ The little toy dog is covered with dust,
+ But sturdy and staunch he stands;
+ And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
+ And his musket moulds in his hands.
+ Time was when the little toy dog was new,
+ And the soldier was passing fair;
+ And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
+ Kissed them and put them there.
+
+ “Now, don’t you go till I come,” he said,
+ “And don’t you make any noise!”
+ So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
+ He dreamt of the pretty toys;
+ And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
+ Awakened our Little Boy Blue--
+ Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
+ But the little toy friends are true!
+
+ Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
+ Each in the same old place--
+ Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
+ The smile of a little face;
+ And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
+ In the dust of that little chair,
+ What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
+ Since he kissed them and put them there.
+
+
+
+
+FATHER’S LETTER
+
+
+ I’m going to write a letter to our oldest boy who went
+ Out West last spring to practise law and run for president;
+ I’ll tell him all the gossip I guess he’d like to hear,
+ For he hasn’t seen the home-folks for going on a year!
+ Most generally it’s Marthy does the writing, but as she
+ Is suffering with a felon, why, the job devolves on me--
+ So, when the supper things are done and put away to-night,
+ I’ll draw my boots and shed my coat and settle down to write.
+
+ I’ll tell him crops are looking up, with prospects big for corn,
+ That, fooling with the barnyard gate, the off-ox hurt his horn;
+ That the Templar lodge is doing well--Tim Bennett joined last week
+ When the prohibition candidate for Congress came to speak;
+ That the old gray woodchuck’s living still down in the pasture-lot,
+ A-wondering what’s become of little William, like as not!
+ Oh, yes, there ’s lots of pleasant things and no bad news to tell,
+ Except that old Bill Graves was sick, but now he’s up and well.
+
+ Cy Cooper says--(but I’ll not pass my word that it is so,
+ For Cy he is some punkins on spinning yarns, you know)--
+ He says that, since the freshet, the pickerel are so thick
+ In Baker’s pond you can wade in and kill ’em with a stick!
+ The Hubbard girls are teaching school, and Widow Cutler’s Bill
+ Has taken Eli Baxter’s place in Luther Eastman’s mill;
+ Old Deacon Skinner’s dog licked Deacon Howard’s dog last week,
+ And now there are two lambkins in one flock that will not speak.
+
+ The yellow rooster froze his feet, a-wadin’ through the snow,
+ And now he leans agin the fence when he starts in to crow;
+ The chestnut colt that was so skittish when _he_ went away--
+ I’ve broke him to the sulky and I drive him every day!
+ We’ve got pink window curtains for the front spare-room up-stairs,
+ And Lizzie’s made new covers for the parlor lounge and chairs;
+ We’ve roofed the barn and braced the elm that has the hangbird’s
+ nest--
+ Oh, there’s been lots of changes since our William went out West!
+
+ Old Uncle Enos Packard is getting mighty gay--
+ He gave Miss Susan Birchard a peach the other day!
+ His late lamented Sarah hain’t been buried quite a year,
+ So his purring ’round Miss Susan causes criticism here.
+ At the last donation party, the minister opined
+ That, if he’d half suspicioned what was coming, he’d resigned;
+ For, though they brought him slippers like he was a centipede,
+ His pantry was depleted by the consequential feed!
+
+ These are the things I’ll write him--our boy that’s in the West;
+ And I’ll tell him how we miss him--his mother and the rest;
+ Why, we never have an apple-pie that mother doesn’t say:
+ “_He_ liked it so--I wish that he could have a piece to-day!”
+ I’ll tell him we are prospering, and hope he is the same--
+ That we hope he’ll have no trouble getting on to wealth and fame;
+ And just before I write “good-by from father and the rest,”
+ I’ll say that “mother sends her love,” and that will please
+ him best.
+
+ For when _I_ went away from home, the weekly news I heard
+ Was nothing to the tenderness I found in that one word--
+ The sacred name of mother--why, even now as then,
+ The thought brings back the saintly face, the gracious love again;
+ And in my bosom seems to come a peace that is divine,
+ As if an angel spirit communed a while with mine;
+ And one man’s heart is strengthened by the message from above,
+ And earth seems nearer heaven when “mother sends her love.”
+
+
+
+
+JEWISH LULLABY
+
+
+ My harp is on the willow-tree,
+ Else would I sing, O love, to thee
+ A song of long-ago--
+ Perchance the song that Miriam sung
+ Ere yet Judea’s heart was wrung
+ By centuries of woe.
+
+ I ate my crust in tears to-day,
+ As scourged I went upon my way--
+ And yet my darling smiled;
+ Aye, beating at my breast, he laughed--
+ My anguish curdled not the draught--
+ ’Twas sweet with love, my child!
+
+ The shadow of the centuries lies
+ Deep in thy dark and mournful eyes;
+ But, hush! and close them now,
+ And in the dreams that thou shalt dream
+ The light of other days shall seem
+ To glorify thy brow!
+
+ Our harp is on the willow-tree--
+ I have no song to sing to thee,
+ As shadows round us roll;
+ But, hush and sleep, and thou shalt hear
+ Jehovah’s voice that speaks to cheer
+ Judea’s fainting soul!
+
+
+
+
+OUR WHIPPINGS
+
+
+ Come, Harvey, let us sit a while and talk about the times
+ Before you went to selling clothes and I to peddling rimes--
+ The days when we were little boys, as naughty little boys
+ As ever worried home-folks with their everlasting noise!
+ Egad! and, were we so disposed, I’ll venture we could show
+ The scars of wallopings we got some forty years ago;
+ What wallopings I mean I think I need not specify--
+ Mother’s whippings didn’t hurt, but father’s! oh, my!
+
+ The way that we played hookey those many years ago--
+ We’d rather give ’most anything than have our children know!
+ The thousand naughty things we did, the thousand fibs we told--
+ Why, thinking of them makes my Presbyterian blood run cold!
+ How often Deacon Sabine Morse remarked if we were his
+ He’d tan our “pesky little hides until the blisters riz”!
+ It’s many a hearty thrashing to that Deacon Morse we owe--
+ Mother’s whippings didn’t count--father’s did, though!
+
+ We used to sneak off swimmin’ in those careless, boyish days,
+ And come back home of evenings with our necks and backs ablaze;
+ How mother used to wonder why our clothes were full of sand,
+ But father, having been a boy, appeared to understand.
+ And, after tea, he’d beckon us to join him in the shed
+ Where he’d proceed to tinge our backs a deeper, darker red;
+ Say what we will of mother’s, there is none will controvert
+ The proposition that our father’s lickings always hurt!
+
+ For mother was by nature so forgiving and so mild
+ That she inclined to spare the rod although she spoiled the child;
+ And when at last in self-defence she had to whip us, she
+ Appeared to feel those whippings a great deal more than we!
+ But how we bellowed and took on, as if we’d like to die--
+ Poor mother really thought she hurt, and that’s what made _her_ cry!
+ Then how we youngsters snickered as out the door we slid,
+ For mother’s whippings never hurt, though father’s always did.
+
+ In after years poor father simmered down to five feet four,
+ But in our youth he seemed to us in height eight feet or more!
+ Oh, how we shivered when he quoth in cold, suggestive tone:
+ “I’ll see you in the woodshed after supper all alone!”
+ Oh, how the legs and arms and dust and trouser buttons flew--
+ What florid vocalisms marked that vesper interview!
+ Yes, after all this lapse of years, I feelingly assert,
+ With all respect to mother, it was father’s whippings hurt!
+
+ The little boy experiencing that tingling ’neath his vest
+ Is often loath to realize that all is for the best;
+ Yet, when the boy gets older, he pictures with delight
+ The buffetings of childhood--as we do here to-night.
+ The years, the gracious years, have smoothed and beautified the ways
+ That to our little feet seemed all too rugged in the days
+ Before you went to selling clothes and I to peddling rimes--
+ So, Harvey, let us sit a while and think upon those times.
+
+
+
+
+THE ARMENIAN MOTHER
+
+
+ I was a mother, and I weep;
+ The night is come--the day is sped--
+ The night of woe profound, for, oh,
+ My little golden son is dead!
+
+ The pretty rose that bloomed anon
+ Upon my mother breast, they stole;
+ They let the dove I nursed with love
+ Fly far away--so sped my soul!
+
+ That falcon Death swooped down upon
+ My sweet-voiced turtle as he sung;
+ ’Tis hushed and dark where soared the lark,
+ And so, and so my heart was wrung!
+
+ Before my eyes, they sent the hail
+ Upon my green pomegranate-tree--
+ Upon the bough where only now
+ A rosy apple bent to me.
+
+ They shook my beauteous almond-tree,
+ Beating its glorious bloom to death--
+ They strewed it round upon the ground,
+ And mocked its fragrant dying breath.
+
+ I was a mother, and I weep;
+ I seek the rose where nestleth none--
+ No more is heard the singing bird--
+ I have no little golden son!
+
+ So fall the shadows over me,
+ The blighted garden, lonely nest.
+ Reach down in love, O God above!
+ And fold my darling to thy breast.
+
+
+
+
+HEIGHO, MY DEARIE
+
+
+ A moonbeam floateth from the skies,
+ Whispering: “Heigho, my dearie;
+ I would spin a web before your eyes--
+ A beautiful web of silver light
+ Wherein is many a wondrous sight
+ Of a radiant garden leagues away,
+ Where the softly tinkling lilies sway
+ And the snow-white lambkins are at play--
+ Heigho, my dearie!”
+
+ A brownie stealeth from the vine,
+ Singing: “Heigho, my dearie;
+ And will you hear this song of mine--
+ A song of the land of murk and mist
+ Where bideth the bud the dew hath kist?
+ Then let the moonbeam’s web of light
+ Be spun before thee silvery white,
+ And I shall sing the livelong night--
+ Heigho, my dearie!”
+
+ The night wind speedeth from the sea,
+ Murmuring: “Heigho, my dearie;
+ I bring a mariner’s prayer for thee;
+ So let the moonbeam veil thine eyes,
+ And the brownie sing thee lullabies--
+ But I shall rock thee to and fro,
+ Kissing the brow _he_ loveth so.
+ And the prayer shall guard thy bed, I trow--
+ Heigho, my dearie!”
+
+
+
+
+TO A USURPER
+
+
+ Aha! a traitor in the camp,
+ A rebel strangely bold,--
+ A lisping, laughing, toddling scamp,
+ Not more than four years old!
+
+ To think that I, who’ve ruled alone
+ So proudly in the past,
+ Should be ejected from my throne
+ By my own son at last!
+
+ He trots his treason to and fro,
+ As only babies can,
+ And says he’ll be his mamma’s beau
+ When he’s a “gweat, big man”!
+
+ You stingy boy! you’ve always had
+ A share in mamma’s heart.
+ Would you begrudge your poor old dad
+ The tiniest little part?
+
+ That mamma, I regret to see,
+ Inclines to take your part,--
+ As if a dual monarchy
+ Should rule her gentle heart!
+
+ But when the years of youth have sped,
+ The bearded man, I trow,
+ Will quite forget he ever said
+ He’d be his mamma’s beau.
+
+ Renounce your treason, little son,
+ Leave mamma’s heart to me;
+ For there will come another one
+ To claim your loyalty.
+
+ And when that other comes to you,
+ God grant her love may shine
+ Through all your life, as fair and true
+ As mamma’s does through mine!
+
+
+
+
+THE BELL-FLOWER TREE
+
+
+ When Brother Bill and I were boys,
+ How often in the summer we
+ Would seek the shade your branches made,
+ O fair and gracious bell-flower tree!
+ Amid the clover bloom we sat
+ And looked upon the Holyoke range,
+ While Fido lay a space away,
+ Thinking our silence very strange.
+
+ The woodchuck in the pasture-lot,
+ Beside his furtive hole elate,
+ Heard, off beyond the pickerel pond,
+ The redwing-blackbird chide her mate.
+ The bumblebee went bustling round,
+ Pursuing labors never done--
+ With drone and sting, the greedy thing
+ Begrudged the sweets we lay upon!
+
+ Our eyes looked always at the hills--
+ The Holyoke hills that seemed to stand
+ Between us boys and pictured joys
+ Of conquest in a further land!
+ Ah, how we coveted the time
+ When we should leave this prosy place
+ And work our wills beyond those hills,
+ And meet creation face to face!
+
+ You must have heard our childish talk--
+ Perhaps our prattle gave you pain;
+ For then, old friend, you seemed to bend
+ Your kindly arms about us twain.
+ It might have been the wind that sighed,
+ And yet I thought I heard you say:
+ “Seek not the ills beyond those hills--
+ Oh, stay with me, my children, stay!”
+
+ See, I’ve come back; the boy you knew
+ Is wiser, older, sadder grown;
+ I come once more, just as of yore--
+ I come, but see! I come alone!
+ The memory of a brother’s love,
+ Of blighted hopes, I bring with me,
+ And here I lay my heart to-day--
+ A weary heart, O bell-flower tree!
+
+ So let me nestle in your shade
+ As though I were a boy again,
+ And pray extend your arms, old friend,
+ And love me as you used to then.
+ Sing softly as you used to sing,
+ And maybe I shall seem to be
+ A little boy and feel the joy
+ Of thy repose, O bell-flower tree!
+
+
+
+
+FAIRY AND CHILD
+
+
+ Oh, listen, little Dear-My-Soul,
+ To the fairy voices calling,
+ For the moon is high in the misty sky
+ And the honey dew is falling;
+ To the midnight feast in the clover bloom
+ The bluebells are a-ringing,
+ And it’s “Come away to the land of fay”
+ That the katydid is singing.
+
+ Oh, slumber, little Dear-My-Soul,
+ And hand in hand we’ll wander--
+ Hand in hand to the beautiful land
+ Of Balow, away off yonder;
+ Or we’ll sail along in a lily leaf
+ Into the white moon’s halo--
+ Over a stream of mist and dream
+ Into the land of Balow.
+
+ Or, you shall have two beautiful wings--
+ Two gossamer wings and airy,
+ And all the while shall the old moon smile
+ And think you a little fairy;
+ And you shall dance in the velvet sky,
+ And the silvery stars shall twinkle
+ And dream sweet dreams as over their beams
+ Your footfalls softly tinkle.
+
+
+
+
+THE GRANDSIRE
+
+
+ I loved him so; his voice had grown
+ Into my heart, and now to hear
+ The pretty song he had sung so long
+ Die on the lips to me so dear!
+ _He_ a child with golden curls,
+ And I with head as white as snow--
+ I knelt down there and made this pray’r:
+ “God, let me be the first to go!”
+
+ How often I recall it now:
+ My darling tossing on his bed,
+ I sitting there in mute despair,
+ Smoothing the curls that crowned his head.
+ They did not speak to me of death--
+ A feeling _here_ had told me so;
+ What could I say or do but pray
+ That I might be the first to go?
+
+ Yet, thinking of him standing there
+ Out yonder as the years go by,
+ Waiting for me to come, I see
+ ’Twas better he should wait, not I.
+ For when I walk the vale of death,
+ Above the wail of Jordan’s flow
+ Shall rise a song that shall make me strong--
+ The call of the child that was first to go.
+
+
+
+
+HUSHABY, SWEET MY OWN
+
+
+ Fair is the castle up on the hill--
+ Hushaby, sweet my own!
+ The night is fair, and the waves are still,
+ And the wind is singing to you and to me
+ In this lowly home beside the sea--
+ Hushaby, sweet my own!
+
+ On yonder hill is store of wealth--
+ Hushaby, sweet my own!
+ And revellers drink to a little one’s health;
+ But you and I bide night and day
+ For the other love that has sailed away--
+ Hushaby, sweet my own!
+
+ See not, dear eyes, the forms that creep
+ Ghostlike, O my own!
+ Out of the mists of the murmuring deep;
+ Oh, see them not and make no cry
+ Till the angels of death have passed us by--
+ Hushaby, sweet my own!
+
+ Ah, little they reck of you and me--
+ Hushaby, sweet my own!
+ In our lonely home beside the sea;
+ They seek the castle up on the hill,
+ And there they will do their ghostly will--
+ Hushaby, O my own!
+
+ Here by the sea a mother croons
+ “Hushaby, sweet my own!”
+ In yonder castle a mother swoons
+ While the angels go down to the misty deep
+ Bearing a little one fast asleep--
+ Hushaby, sweet my own!
+
+
+
+
+CHILD AND MOTHER
+
+
+ O Mother-My-Love, if you’ll give me your hand,
+ And go where I ask you to wander,
+ I will lead you away to a beautiful land--
+ The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder.
+ We’ll walk in a sweet-posie garden out there
+ Where moonlight and starlight are streaming
+ And the flowers and the birds are filling the air
+ With the fragrance and music of dreaming.
+
+ There’ll be no little tired-out boy to undress,
+ No questions or cares to perplex you;
+ There’ll be no little bruises or bumps to caress,
+ Nor patching of stockings to vex you.
+ For I’ll rock you away on a silver-dew stream,
+ And sing you asleep when you’re weary,
+ And no one shall know of our beautiful dream
+ But you and your own little dearie.
+
+ And when I am tired I’ll nestle my head
+ In the bosom that’s soothed me so often,
+ And the wide-awake stars shall sing in my stead
+ A song which our dreaming shall soften.
+ So, Mother-My-Love, let me take your dear hand,
+ And away through the starlight we’ll wander--
+ Away through the mist to the beautiful land--
+ The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder!
+
+
+
+
+MEDIEVAL EVENTIDE SONG
+
+
+ Come hither, lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night,
+ For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white,
+ And yonder sings ye angell as onely angells may,
+ And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye.
+
+ To them that have no lyttel childe Godde sometimes sendeth down
+ A lyttel childe that ben a lyttel angell of his owne;
+ And if so bee they love that childe, he willeth it to staye,
+ But elsewise, in his mercie, he taketh it awaye.
+
+ And sometimes, though they love it, Godde yearneth for ye childe,
+ And sendeth angells singing, whereby it ben beguiled;
+ They fold their arms about ye lamb that croodleth at his play,
+ And beare him to ye garden that bloometh farre awaye.
+
+ I wolde not lose ye lyttel lamb that Godde hath lent to me;
+ If I colde sing that angell songe, how joysome I sholde be!
+ For, with mine arms about him, and my musick in his eare,
+ What angell songe of paradize soever sholde I feare?
+
+ Soe come, my lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night,
+ For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white,
+ And yonder sings that angell, as onely angells may,
+ And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye.
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE PEACH
+
+
+ Little peach in the orchard grew,--
+ A little peach of emerald hue;
+ Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew,
+ It grew.
+
+ One day, passing that orchard through,
+ That little peach dawned on the view
+ Of Johnny Jones and his Sister Sue--
+ Them two.
+
+ Up at that peach a club they threw--
+ Down from the stem on which it grew
+ Fell that peach of emerald hue.
+ Mon Dieu!
+
+ John took a bite and Sue a chew,
+ And then the trouble began to brew,--
+ Trouble the doctor couldn’t subdue.
+ Too true!
+
+ Under the turf where the daisies grew
+ They planted John and his Sister Sue,
+ And their little souls to the angels flew,--
+ Boo hoo!
+
+ What of that peach of the emerald hue,
+ Warmed by the sun, and wet by the dew?
+ Ah, well, its mission on earth is through.
+ Adieu!
+
+[Illustration: _The Little Peach_]
+
+
+
+
+ARMENIAN LULLABY
+
+
+ If thou wilt shut thy drowsy eyes,
+ My mulberry one, my golden sun!
+ The rose shall sing thee lullabies,
+ My pretty cosset lambkin!
+ And thou shalt swing in an almond-tree,
+ With a flood of moonbeams rocking thee--
+ A silver boat in a golden sea,
+ My velvet love, my nestling dove,
+ My own pomegranate blossom!
+
+ The stork shall guard thee passing well
+ All night, my sweet! my dimple-feet!
+ And bring thee myrrh and asphodel,
+ My gentle rain-of-springtime!
+ And for thy slumbrous play shall twine
+ The diamond stars with an emerald vine
+ To trail in the waves of ruby wine,
+ My myrtle bloom, my heart’s perfume,
+ My little chirping sparrow!
+
+ And when the morn wakes up to see
+ My apple bright, my soul’s delight!
+ The partridge shall come calling thee,
+ My jar of milk-and-honey!
+ Yes, thou shalt know what mystery lies
+ In the amethyst deep of the curtained skies,
+ If thou wilt fold thy onyx eyes,
+ You wakeful one, you naughty son,
+ You cooing little turtle!
+
+
+
+
+CHRISTMAS TREASURES
+
+
+ I count my treasures o’er with care,--
+ The little toy my darling knew,
+ A little sock of faded hue,
+ A little lock of golden hair.
+
+ Long years ago this holy time,
+ My little one--my all to me--
+ Sat robed in white upon my knee,
+ And heard the merry Christmas chime.
+
+ “Tell me, my little golden-head,
+ If Santa Claus should come to-night,
+ What shall he bring my baby bright,--
+ What treasure for my boy?” I said.
+
+ And then he named this little toy,
+ While in his round and mournful eyes
+ There came a look of sweet surprise,
+ That spake his quiet, trustful joy.
+
+ And as he lisped his evening prayer
+ He asked the boon with childish grace;
+ Then, toddling to the chimney-place,
+ He hung this little stocking there.
+
+ That night, while lengthening shadows crept,
+ I saw the white-winged angels come
+ With singing to our lowly home
+ And kiss my darling as he slept.
+
+ They must have heard his little prayer,
+ For in the morn, with rapturous face,
+ He toddled to the chimney-place,
+ And found this little treasure there.
+
+ They came again one Christmas-tide,--
+ That angel host, so fair and white;
+ And, singing all that glorious night,
+ They lured my darling from my side.
+
+ A little sock, a little toy,
+ A little lock of golden hair,
+ The Christmas music on the air,
+ A watching for my baby boy!
+
+ But if again that angel train
+ And golden-head come back for me,
+ To bear me to Eternity,
+ My watching will not be in vain.
+
+
+
+
+OH, LITTLE CHILD
+
+
+ Hush, little one, and fold your hands--
+ The sun hath set, the moon is high;
+ The sea is singing to the sands,
+ And wakeful posies are beguiled
+ By many a fairy lullaby--
+ Hush, little child--my little child!
+
+ Dream, little one, and in your dreams
+ Float upward from this lowly place--
+ Float out on mellow, misty streams
+ To lands where bideth Mary mild,
+ And let her kiss thy little face,
+ You little child--my little child!
+
+ Sleep, little one, and take thy rest--
+ With angels bending over thee,
+ Sleep sweetly on that Father’s breast
+ Whom our dear Christ hath reconciled--
+ But stay not there--come back to me,
+ Oh, little child--_my_ little child!
+
+
+
+
+GANDERFEATHER’S GIFT
+
+
+ I was just a little thing
+ When a fairy came and kissed me;
+ Floating in upon the light
+ Of a haunted summer night,
+ Lo, the fairies came to sing
+ Pretty slumber songs and bring
+ Certain boons that else had missed me.
+ From a dream I turned to see
+ What those strangers brought for me,
+ When that fairy up and kissed me--
+ Here, upon this cheek, he kissed me!
+
+ Simmerdew was there, but she
+ Did not like me altogether;
+ Daisybright and Turtledove,
+ Pilfercurds and Honeylove,
+ Thistleblow and Amberglee
+ On that gleaming, ghostly sea
+ Floated from the misty heather,
+ And around my trundle-bed
+ Frisked, and looked, and whispering said--
+ Solemnlike and all together:
+ “_You_ shall kiss him, Ganderfeather!”
+
+ Ganderfeather kissed me then--
+ Ganderfeather, quaint and merry!
+ No attenuate sprite was he,
+ --But as buxom as could be;--
+ Kissed me twice, and once again,
+ And the others shouted when
+ On my cheek uprose a berry
+ Somewhat like a mole, mayhap,
+ But the kiss-mark of that chap
+ Ganderfeather, passing merry--
+ Humorsome, but kindly, very!
+
+ I was just a tiny thing
+ When the prankish Ganderfeather
+ Brought this curious gift to me
+ With his fairy kisses three;
+ Yet with honest pride I sing
+ That same gift he chose to bring
+ Out of yonder haunted heather.
+ Other charms and friendships fly--
+ Constant friends this mole and I,
+ Who have been so long together.
+ Thank you, little Ganderfeather!
+
+
+
+
+BAMBINO
+
+
+ Bambino in his cradle slept;
+ And by his side his grandam grim
+ Bent down and smiled upon the child,
+ And sung this lullaby to him,--
+ This “ninna and anninia”:
+
+ “When thou art older, thou shalt mind
+ To traverse countries far and wide,
+ And thou shalt go where roses blow
+ And balmy waters singing glide--
+ So ninna and anninia!
+
+ “And thou shalt wear, trimmed up in points,
+ A famous jacket edged in red,
+ And, more than that, a peakèd hat,
+ All decked in gold, upon thy head--
+ Ah! ninna and anninia!
+
+ “Then shalt thou carry gun and knife,
+ Nor shall the soldiers bully thee;
+ Perchance, beset by wrong or debt,
+ A mighty bandit thou shalt be--
+ So ninna and anninia!
+
+ “No woman yet of our proud race
+ Lived to her fourteenth year unwed;
+ The brazen churl that eyed a girl
+ Bought her the ring or paid his head--
+ So ninna and anninia!
+
+ “But once came spies (I know the thieves!)
+ And brought disaster to our race;
+ God heard us when our fifteen men
+ Were hanged within the market-place--
+ But ninna and anninia!
+
+ “Good men they were, my babe, and true,--
+ Right worthy fellows all, and strong;
+ Live thou and be for them and me
+ Avenger of that deadly wrong--
+ So ninna and anninia!”
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE HOMER’S SLATE
+
+
+ After dear old grandma died,
+ Hunting through an oaken chest
+ In the attic, we espied
+ What repaid our childish quest;
+ ’Twas a homely little slate,
+ Seemingly of ancient date.
+
+ On its quaint and battered face
+ Was the picture of a cart,
+ Drawn with all that awkward grace
+ Which betokens childish art;
+ But what meant this legend, pray:
+ “Homer drew this yesterday”?
+
+ Mother recollected then
+ What the years were fain to hide--
+ She was but a baby when
+ Little Homer lived and died;
+ Forty years, so mother said,
+ Little Homer had been dead.
+
+ This one secret through those years
+ Grandma kept from all apart,
+ Hallowed by her lonely tears
+ And the breaking of her heart;
+ While each year that sped away
+ Seemed to her but yesterday.
+
+ So the homely little slate
+ Grandma’s baby’s fingers pressed,
+ To a memory consecrate,
+ Lieth in the oaken chest,
+ Where, unwilling we should know,
+ Grandma put it, years ago.
+
+
+
+
+THE ROCK-A-BY LADY
+
+
+ The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street
+ Comes stealing; comes creeping;
+ The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,
+ And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet--
+ She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,
+ When she findeth you sleeping!
+
+ There is one little dream of a beautiful drum--
+ “Rub-a-dub!” it goeth;
+ There is one little dream of a big sugar-plum,
+ And lo! thick and fast the other dreams come
+ Of popguns that bang, and tin tops that hum,
+ And a trumpet that bloweth!
+
+ And dollies peep out of those wee little dreams
+ With laughter and singing;
+ And boats go a-floating on silvery streams,
+ And the stars peek-a-boo with their own misty gleams,
+ And up, up, and up, where the Mother Moon beams,
+ The fairies go winging!
+
+ Would you dream all these dreams that are tiny and fleet?
+ They’ll come to you sleeping;
+ So shut the two eyes that are weary, my sweet,
+ For the Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street,
+ With poppies that hang from her head to her feet,
+ Comes stealing; comes creeping.
+
+
+
+
+“BOOH!”
+
+
+ On afternoons, when baby boy has had a splendid nap,
+ And sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse’s lap,
+ In some such wise my handkerchief I hold before my face,
+ And cautiously and quietly I move about the place;
+ Then, with a cry, I suddenly expose my face to view,
+ And you should hear him laugh and crow when I say “Booh!”
+
+ Sometimes the rascal tries to make believe that he is scared,
+ And really, when I first began, he stared, and stared, and stared;
+ And then his under lip came out and farther out it came,
+ Till mamma and the nurse agreed it was a “cruel shame”--
+ But now what does that same wee, toddling, lisping baby do
+ But laugh and kick his little heels when I say “Booh!”
+
+ He laughs and kicks his little heels in rapturous glee, and then
+ In shrill, despotic treble bids me “do it all aden!”
+ And I--of course I do it; for, as his progenitor,
+ It is such pretty, pleasant play as this that I am for!
+ And it is, oh, such fun! and I am sure that we shall rue
+ The time when we are both too old to play the game of “Booh!”
+
+
+
+
+GARDEN AND CRADLE
+
+
+ When our babe he goeth walking in his garden,
+ Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play;
+ The posies they are good to him,
+ And bow them as they should to him,
+ As fareth he upon his kingly way;
+ And birdlings of the wood to him
+ Make music, gentle music, all the day,
+ When our babe he goeth walking in his garden.
+
+ When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle,
+ Then the night it looketh ever sweetly down;
+ The little stars are kind to him,
+ The moon she hath a mind to him
+ And layeth on his head a golden crown;
+ And singeth then the wind to him
+ A song, the gentle song of Bethlem-town,
+ When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle.
+
+
+
+
+THE NIGHT WIND
+
+
+ Have you ever heard the wind go “Yooooo”?
+ ’Tis a pitiful sound to hear!
+ It seems to chill you through and through
+ With a strange and speechless fear.
+ ’Tis the voice of the night that broods outside
+ When folk should be asleep,
+ And many and many’s the time I’ve cried
+ To the darkness brooding far and wide
+ Over the land and the deep:
+ “Whom do you want, O lonely night,
+ That you wail the long hours through?”
+ And the night would say in its ghostly way:
+ “Yoooooooo!
+ Yoooooooo!
+ Yoooooooo!”
+
+ My mother told me long ago
+ (When I was a little tad)
+ That when the night went wailing so,
+ Somebody had been bad;
+ And then, when I was snug in bed,
+ Whither I had been sent,
+ With the blankets pulled up round my head,
+ I’d think of what my mother’d said,
+ And wonder what boy she meant!
+ And “Who’s been bad to-day?” I’d ask
+ Of the wind that hoarsely blew,
+ And the voice would say in its meaningful way
+ “Yoooooooo!
+ Yoooooooo!
+ Yoooooooo!”
+
+ That this was true I must allow--
+ You’ll not believe it, though!
+ Yes, though I’m quite a model now,
+ I was not always so.
+ And if you doubt what things I say,
+ Suppose you make the test;
+ Suppose, when you’ve been bad some day
+ And up to bed are sent away
+ From mother and the rest--
+ Suppose you ask, “Who has been bad?”
+ And then you’ll hear what’s true;
+ For the wind will moan in its ruefulest tone:
+ “Yoooooooo!
+ Yoooooooo!
+ Yoooooooo!”
+
+
+
+
+KISSING TIME
+
+
+ ’Tis when the lark goes soaring
+ And the bee is at the bud,
+ When lightly dancing zephyrs
+ Sing over field and flood;
+ When all sweet things in nature
+ Seem joyfully achime--
+ ’Tis then I wake my darling,
+ For it is kissing time!
+
+ Go, pretty lark, a-soaring,
+ And suck your sweets, O bee;
+ Sing, O ye winds of summer,
+ Your songs to mine and me;
+ For with your song and rapture
+ Cometh the moment when
+ It’s half-past kissing time
+ And time to kiss again!
+
+ So--so the days go fleeting
+ Like golden fancies free,
+ And every day that cometh
+ Is full of sweets for me;
+ And sweetest are those moments
+ My darling comes to climb
+ Into my lap to mind me
+ That it is kissing time.
+
+ Sometimes, maybe, he wanders
+ A heedless, aimless way--
+ Sometimes, maybe, he loiters
+ In pretty, prattling play;
+ But presently bethinks him
+ And hastens to me then,
+ For it’s half-past kissing time
+ And time to kiss again!
+
+
+
+
+JEST ’FORE CHRISTMAS
+
+
+ Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
+ Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!
+ Mighty glad I ain’t a girl--ruther be a boy,
+ Without them sashes, curls, an’ things that’s worn by Fauntleroy!
+ Love to chawnk green apples an’ go swimmin’ in the lake--
+ Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-ache!
+ ’Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain’t no flies on
+ me,
+ But jest ’fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be!
+
+ Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat;
+ First thing she knows she doesn’t know where she is at!
+ Got a clipper sled, an’ when us kids goes out to slide,
+ ’Long comes the grocery cart, an’ we all hook a ride!
+ But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an’ cross,
+ He reaches at us with his whip, an’ larrups up his hoss,
+ An’ then I laff an’ holler, “Oh, ye never teched _me_!”
+ But jest ’fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be!
+
+ Gran’ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man,
+ I’ll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan,
+ As was et up by the cannibuls that lives in Ceylon’s Isle,
+ Where every prospeck pleases, an’ only man is vile!
+ But gran’ma she has never been to see a Wild West show,
+ Nor read the Life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she’d know
+ That Buff’lo Bill an’ cow-boys is good enough for me!
+ _Excep’_ jest ’fore Christmas, when I’m good as I kin be!
+
+ And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like an’ still,
+ His eyes they seem a-sayin’: “What’s the matter, little Bill?”
+ The old cat sneaks down off her perch an’ wonders what’s become
+ Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum!
+ But I am so perlite an’ ’tend so earnestly to biz,
+ That mother says to father: “How improved our Willie is!”
+ But father, havin’ been a boy hisself, suspicions me
+ When, jest ’fore Christmas, I’m as good as I kin be!
+
+ For Christmas, with its lots an’ lots of candies, cakes, an’ toys,
+ Was made, they say, for proper kids, an’ not for naughty boys;
+ So wash yer face an’ bresh yer hair, an’ mind yer p’s and q’s,
+ An’ don’t bust out yer pantaloons, and don’t wear out yer shoes;
+ Say “Yessum” to the ladies, an’ “Yessur” to the men,
+ An’ when they’s company, don’t pass yer plate for pie again;
+ But, thinkin’ of the things yer ’d like to see upon that tree,
+ Jest ’fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be!
+
+
+
+
+BEARD AND BABY
+
+
+ I say, as one who never feared
+ The wrath of a subscriber’s bullet,
+ I pity him who has a beard
+ But has no little girl to pull it!
+
+ When wife and I have finished tea,
+ Our baby woos me with her prattle,
+ And, perching proudly on my knee,
+ She gives my petted whiskers battle.
+
+ With both her hands she tugs away,
+ While scolding at me kind o’ spiteful;
+ You’ll not believe me when I say
+ I find the torture quite delightful!
+
+ No other would presume, I ween,
+ To trifle with this hirsute wonder,
+ Else would I rise in vengeful mien
+ And rend his vandal frame asunder!
+
+ But when _her_ baby fingers pull
+ This glossy, sleek, and silky treasure,
+ My cup of happiness is full--
+ I fairly glow with pride and pleasure!
+
+ And, sweeter still, through all the day
+ I seem to hear her winsome prattle--
+ I seem to feel her hands at play,
+ As though they gave me sportive battle.
+
+ Yes, heavenly music seems to steal
+ Where thought of her forever lingers,
+ And round my heart I always feel
+ The twining of her dimpled fingers!
+
+
+
+
+THE DINKEY-BIRD
+
+
+ In an ocean, ’way out yonder
+ (As all sapient people know),
+ Is the land of Wonder-Wander,
+ Whither children love to go;
+ It’s their playing, romping, swinging,
+ That give great joy to me
+ While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing
+ In the amfalula tree!
+
+ There the gum-drops grow like cherries,
+ And taffy’s thick as peas--
+ Caramels you pick like berries
+ When, and where, and how you please;
+ Big red sugar-plums are clinging
+ To the cliffs beside that sea
+ Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing
+ In the amfalula tree.
+
+ [Illustration: _The Dinkey-bird_]
+
+ So when children shout and scamper
+ And make merry all the day,
+ When there’s naught to put a damper
+ To the ardor of their play;
+ When I hear their laughter ringing,
+ Then I’m sure as sure can be
+ That the Dinkey-Bird is singing
+ In the amfalula tree.
+
+ For the Dinkey-Bird’s bravuras
+ And staccatos are so sweet--
+ His roulades, appoggiaturas,
+ And robustos so complete,
+ That the youth of every nation--
+ Be they near or far away--
+ Have especial delectation
+ In that gladsome roundelay.
+
+ Their eyes grow bright and brighter
+ Their lungs begin to crow,
+ Their hearts get light and lighter,
+ And their cheeks are all aglow;
+ For an echo cometh bringing
+ The news to all and me,
+ That the Dinkey-Bird is singing
+ In the amfalula tree.
+
+ I’m sure you like to go there
+ To see your feathered friend--
+ And so many goodies grow there
+ You would like to comprehend!
+ _Speed, little dreams, your winging
+ To that land across the sea
+ Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing
+ In the amfalula tree!_
+
+
+
+
+THE DRUM
+
+
+ I’m a beautiful red, red drum,
+ And I train with the soldier boys;
+ As up the street we come,
+ Wonderful is our noise!
+ There’s Tom, and Jim, and Phil,
+ And Dick, and Nat, and Fred,
+ While Widow Cutler’s Bill
+ And I march on ahead,
+ With a r-r-rat-tat-tat
+ And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum--
+ Oh, there’s bushels of fun in that
+ For boys with a little red drum!
+
+ The Injuns came last night
+ While the soldiers were abed,
+ And they gobbled a Chinese kite
+ And off to the woods they fled!
+ The woods are the cherry-trees
+ Down in the orchard lot,
+ And the soldiers are marching to seize
+ The booty the Injuns got.
+ With tum-titty-um-tum-tum,
+ And r-r-rat-tat-tat,
+ When soldiers marching come
+ Injuns had better scat!
+
+ Step up there, little Fred,
+ And, Charley, have a mind!
+ Jim is as far ahead
+ As you two are behind!
+ Ready with gun and sword
+ Your valorous work to do--
+ Yonder the Injun horde
+ Are lying in wait for you.
+ And their hearts go pitapat
+ When they hear the soldiers come
+ With a r-r-rat-tat-tat
+ And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum!
+
+ Course it’s all in play!
+ The skulking Injun crew
+ That hustled the kite away
+ Are little white boys, like you!
+ But “honest” or “just in fun,”
+ It is all the same to me;
+ And, when the battle is won,
+ Home once again march we
+ With a r-r-rat-tat-tat
+ And tum-titty-um-tum-tum;
+ And there’s glory enough in that
+ For the boys with their little red drum!
+
+
+
+
+THE DEAD BABE
+
+
+ Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,
+ In agony I knelt and said:
+ “O God! what have I done,
+ Or in what wise offended Thee,
+ That Thou shouldst take away from me
+ My little son?
+
+ “Upon the thousand useless lives,
+ Upon the guilt that vaunting thrives,
+ Thy wrath were better spent!
+ Why shouldst Thou take my little son--
+ Why shouldst Thou vent Thy wrath upon
+ This innocent?”
+
+ Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,
+ Before mine eyes the vision spread
+ Of things that _might_ have been:
+ Licentious riot, cruel strife,
+ Forgotten prayers, a wasted life
+ Dark red with sin!
+
+ Then, with sweet music in the air,
+ I saw another vision there:
+ A Shepherd in whose keep
+ A little lamb--my little child!
+ Of worldly wisdom undefiled,
+ Lay fast asleep!
+
+ Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,
+ In those two messages I read
+ A wisdom manifest;
+ And though my arms be childless now,
+ I am content--to Him I bow
+ Who knoweth best.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD
+
+
+ It’s when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks,
+ That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes;
+ Then it’s sleep no more for baby, and it’s sleep no more for me,
+ For, when he wants his dinner, why it’s dinner it must be!
+ And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great ado.
+ While gran’ma laughs,
+ And gran’pa laughs,
+ And wife, she laughs,
+ And I--well, _I_ laugh, _too_!
+
+ You’d think, to see us carrying on about that little tad,
+ That, like as not, that baby was the first we’d ever had;
+ But, sakes alive! he isn’t, yet we people make a fuss
+ As if the only baby in the world had come to _us_!
+ And, morning, noon, and night-time, whatever he may do,
+ Gran’ma, she laughs,
+ Gran’pa, he laughs,
+ Wife, she laughs,
+ And _I_, of course, laugh, too!
+
+ But once--a likely spell ago--when that poor little chick
+ From teething or from some such ill of infancy fell sick,
+ You wouldn’t know us people as the same that went about
+ A-feelin’ good all over, just to hear him crow and shout;
+ And, though the doctor poohed our fears and said he’d pull him
+ through,
+ Old gran’ma cried,
+ And gran’pa cried,
+ And wife, she cried,
+ And I--yes, _I_ cried, _too_!
+
+ It makes us all feel good to have a baby on the place,
+ With his everlastin’ crowing and his dimpling, dumpling face;
+ The patter of his pinky feet makes music everywhere,
+ And when he shakes those fists of his, good-by to every care!
+ No matter _what_ our trouble is, when _he_ begins to _coo_,
+ Old gran’ma laughs,
+ And gran’pa laughs,
+ Wife, she laughs,
+ And I--you bet, _I_ laugh, _too_!
+
+
+
+
+SO, SO, ROCK-A-BY SO!
+
+
+ So, so, rock-a-by so!
+ Off to the garden where dreamikins grow;
+ And here is a kiss on your winkyblink eyes,
+ And here is a kiss on your dimpledown cheek
+ And here is a kiss for the treasure that lies
+ In the beautiful garden way up in the skies
+ Which you seek.
+ Now mind these three kisses wherever you go--
+ So, so, rock-a-by so!
+
+ There’s one little fumfay who lives there, I know,
+ For he dances all night where the dreamikins grow;
+ I send him this kiss on your droopydrop eyes,
+ I send him this kiss on your rosyred cheek.
+ And here is a kiss for the dream that shall rise
+ When the fumfay shall dance in those far-away skies
+ Which you seek.
+ Be sure that you pay those three kisses you owe--
+ So, so, rock-a-by so!
+
+ And, by-low, as you rock-a-by go,
+ Don’t forget mother who loveth you so!
+ And here is her kiss on your weepydeep eyes,
+ And here is her kiss on your peachypink cheek,
+ And here is her kiss for the dreamland that lies
+ Like a babe on the breast of those far-away skies
+ Which you seek--
+ The blinkywink garden where dreamikins grow--
+ So, so, rock-a-by so!
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF LUDDY-DUD
+
+
+ A sunbeam comes a-creeping
+ Into my dear one’s nest,
+ And sings to our babe a-sleeping,
+ The song that I love the best:
+ “’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning--
+ ’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;
+ And all day long
+ ’Tis the same sweet song
+ Of that waddling, toddling, coddling little mite, Luddy-Dud.”
+
+ The bird to the tossing clover,
+ The bee to the swaying bud,
+ Keep singing that sweet song over
+ Of wee little Luddy-Dud.
+ “’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning--
+ ’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;
+ And all day long
+ ’Tis the same dear song
+ Of that growing, crowing, knowing little sprite, Luddy-Dud!”
+
+ Luddy-Dud’s cradle is swinging
+ Where softly the night winds blow,
+ And Luddy-Dud’s mother is singing
+ A song that is sweet and low:
+ “’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning--
+ ’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;
+ And all day long
+ ’Tis the same sweet song
+ Of my nearest and my dearest heart’s delight, Luddy-Dud!”
+
+
+
+
+THE DUEL
+
+
+ The gingham dog and the calico cat
+ Side by side on the table sat;
+ ’Twas half-past twelve, and (what do you think!)
+ Nor one nor t’other had slept a wink!
+ The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate
+ Appeared to know as sure as fate
+ There was going to be a terrible spat.
+ (_I wasn’t there; I simply state
+ What was told to me by the Chinese plate!_)
+
+ The gingham dog went “bow-wow-wow!”
+ And the calico cat replied “mee-ow!”
+ The air was littered, an hour or so,
+ With bits of gingham and calico,
+ While the old Dutch clock in the chimney-place
+ Up with its hands before its face,
+ For it always dreaded a family row!
+ (_Now mind: I’m only telling you
+ What the old Dutch clock declares is true!_)
+
+ The Chinese plate looked very blue,
+ And wailed, “Oh, dear! what shall we do!”
+ But the gingham dog and the calico cat
+ Wallowed this way and tumbled that,
+ Employing every tooth and claw
+ In the awfullest way you ever saw--
+ And, oh! how the gingham and calico flew!
+ (_Don’t fancy I exaggerate--
+ I got my news from the Chinese plate!_)
+
+ Next morning, where the two had sat
+ They found no trace of dog or cat;
+ And some folks think unto this day
+ That burglars stole that pair away!
+ But the truth about the cat and pup
+ Is this: they ate each other up!
+ Now what do you really think of that!
+ (_The old Dutch clock it told me so,
+ And that is how I came to know._)
+
+
+
+
+GOOD-CHILDREN STREET
+
+
+ There’s a dear little home in Good-Children street--
+ My heart turneth fondly to-day
+ Where tinkle of tongues and patter of feet
+ Make sweetest of music at play;
+ Where the sunshine of love illumines each face
+ And warms every heart in that old-fashioned place.
+
+ For dear little children go romping about
+ With dollies and tin tops and drums,
+ And, my! how they frolic and scamper and shout
+ Till bedtime too speedily comes!
+ Oh, days they are golden and days they are fleet
+ With little folk living in Good-Children street.
+
+ See, here comes an army with guns painted red,
+ And swords, caps, and plumes of all sorts;
+ The captain rides gayly and proudly ahead
+ On a stick-horse that prances and snorts!
+ Oh, legions of soldiers you’re certain to meet--
+ Nice make-believe soldiers--in Good-Children street.
+
+ And yonder Odette wheels her dolly about--
+ Poor dolly! I’m sure she is ill,
+ For one of her blue china eyes has dropped out
+ And her voice is asthmatic’ly shrill.
+ Then, too, I observe she is minus her feet,
+ Which causes much sorrow in Good-Children street.
+
+ ’Tis so the dear children go romping about
+ With dollies and banners and drums,
+ And I venture to say they are sadly put out
+ When an end to their jubilee comes:
+ Oh, days they are golden and days they are fleet
+ With little folk living in Good-Children street!
+
+ But when falleth night over river and town,
+ Those little folk vanish from sight,
+ And an angel all white from the sky cometh down
+ And guardeth the babes through the night,
+ And singeth her lullabies tender and sweet
+ To the dear little people in Good-Children street.
+
+ Though elsewhere the world be o’erburdened with care,
+ Though poverty fall to my lot,
+ Though toil and vexation be always my share,
+ What care I--they trouble me not!
+ _This_ thought maketh life ever joyous and sweet:
+ There’s a dear little home in Good-Children street.
+
+
+
+
+THE DELECTABLE BALLAD OF THE WALLER LOT
+
+
+ Up yonder in Buena Park
+ There is a famous spot,
+ In legend and in history
+ Yclept the Waller Lot.
+
+ There children play in daytime
+ And lovers stroll by dark,
+ For ’tis the goodliest trysting-place
+ In all Buena Park.
+
+ Once on a time that beauteous maid,
+ Sweet little Sissy Knott,
+ Took out her pretty doll to walk
+ Within the Waller Lot.
+
+ While thus she fared, from Ravenswood
+ Came Injuns o’er the plain,
+ And seized upon that beauteous maid
+ And rent her doll in twain.
+
+ Oh, ’twas a piteous thing to hear
+ Her lamentations wild;
+ She tore her golden curls and cried:
+ “My child! My child! My child!”
+
+ Alas, what cared those Injun chiefs
+ How bitterly wailed she?
+ They never had been mothers,
+ And they could not hope to be!
+
+ “Have done with tears,” they rudely quoth,
+ And then they bound her hands;
+ For they proposed to take her off
+ To distant border lands.
+
+ But, joy! from Mr. Eddy’s barn
+ Doth Willie Clow behold
+ The sight that makes his hair rise up
+ And all his blood run cold.
+
+ He put his fingers in his mouth
+ And whistled long and clear,
+ And presently a goodly horde
+ Of cow-boys did appear.
+
+ Cried Willie Clow: “My comrades bold,
+ Haste to the Waller Lot,
+ And rescue from that Injun band
+ Our charming Sissy Knott!
+
+ “Spare neither Injun buck nor squaw,
+ But smite them hide and hair!
+ Spare neither sex nor age nor size,
+ And no condition spare!”
+
+ Then sped that cow-boy band away,
+ Full of revengeful wrath,
+ And Kendall Evans rode ahead
+ Upon a hickory lath.
+
+ And next came gallant Dady Field
+ And Willie’s brother Kent,
+ The Eddy boys and Robbie James,
+ On murderous purpose bent.
+
+ For they were much beholden to
+ That maid--in sooth, the lot
+ Were very, very much in love
+ With charming Sissy Knott.
+
+ What wonder? She was beauty’s queen,
+ And good beyond compare;
+ Moreover, it was known she was
+ Her wealthy father’s heir!
+
+ Now when the Injuns saw that band
+ They trembled with affright,
+ And yet they thought the cheapest thing
+ To do was stay and fight.
+
+ So sturdily they stood their ground,
+ Nor would their prisoner yield,
+ Despite the wrath of Willie Clow
+ And gallant Dady Field.
+
+ Oh, never fiercer battle raged
+ Upon the Waller Lot,
+ And never blood more freely flowed
+ Than flowed for Sissy Knott!
+
+ An Injun chief of monstrous size
+ Got Kendall Evans down,
+ And Robbie James was soon o’erthrown
+ By one of great renown.
+
+ And Dady Field was sorely done,
+ And Willie Clow was hurt,
+ And all that gallant cow-boy band
+ Lay wallowing in the dirt.
+
+ But still they strove with might and main
+ Till all the Waller Lot
+ Was strewn with hair and gouts of gore--
+ All, all for Sissy Knott!
+
+ Then cried the maiden in despair:
+ “Alas, I sadly fear
+ The battle and my hopes are lost,
+ Unless some help appear!”
+
+ Lo, as she spoke, she saw afar
+ The rescuer looming up--
+ The pride of all Buena Park,
+ Clow’s famous yellow pup!
+
+ “Now, sick ’em, Don,” the maiden cried,
+ “Now, sick ’em, Don!” cried she;
+ Obedient Don at once complied--
+ As ordered, so did he.
+
+ He sicked ’em all so passing well
+ That, overcome by fright,
+ The Indian horde gave up the fray
+ And safety sought in flight.
+
+ They ran and ran and ran and ran
+ O’er valley, plain, and hill;
+ And if they are not walking now,
+ Why, then, they ’re running still.
+
+ The cow-boys rose up from the dust
+ With faces black and blue;
+ “Remember, beauteous maid,” said they,
+ “We’ve bled and died for you!
+
+ “And though we suffer grievously,
+ We gladly hail the lot
+ That brings us toils and pains and wounds
+ For charming Sissy Knott!”
+
+ But Sissy Knott still wailed and wept,
+ And still her fate reviled;
+ For who could patch her dolly up--
+ Who, who could mend her child?
+
+ Then out her doting mother came,
+ And soothed her daughter then;
+ “Grieve not, my darling, I will sew
+ Your dolly up again!”
+
+ Joy soon succeeded unto grief,
+ And tears were soon dried up,
+ And dignities were heaped upon
+ Clow’s noble yellow pup.
+
+ Him all that goodly company
+ Did as deliverer hail--
+ They tied a ribbon round his neck,
+ Another round his tail.
+
+ And every anniversary day
+ Upon the Waller Lot
+ They celebrate the victory won
+ For charming Sissy Knott.
+
+ And I, the poet of these folk,
+ Am ordered to compile
+ This truly famous history
+ In good old ballad style.
+
+ Which having done as to have earned
+ The sweet rewards of fame,
+ In what same style I did begin
+ I now shall end the same.
+
+ So let us sing: Long live the King,
+ Long live the Queen and Jack,
+ Long live the ten-spot and the ace,
+ And also all the pack.
+
+
+
+
+THE FLY-AWAY HORSE
+
+
+ Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse--
+ Perhaps you have seen him before;
+ Perhaps, while you slept, his shadow has swept
+ Through the moonlight that floats on the floor.
+ For it’s only at night, when the stars twinkle bright,
+ That the Fly-Away Horse, with a neigh
+ And a pull at his rein and a toss of his mane,
+ Is up on his heels and away!
+ The Moon in the sky,
+ As he gallopeth by,
+ Cries: “Oh! what a marvellous sight!”
+ And the Stars in dismay
+ Hide their faces away
+ In the lap of old Grandmother Night.
+
+ It is yonder, out yonder, the Fly-Away Horse
+ Speedeth ever and ever away--
+ Over meadows and lanes, over mountains and plains,
+ Over streamlets that sing at their play;
+ And over the sea like a ghost sweepeth he,
+ While the ships they go sailing below,
+ And he speedeth so fast that the men at the mast
+ Adjudge him some portent of woe.
+ “What ho there!” they cry,
+ As he flourishes by
+ With a whisk of his beautiful tail;
+ And the fish in the sea
+ Are as scared as can be,
+ From the nautilus up to the whale!
+
+ [Illustration: _The Fly-away Horse_]
+
+ And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands
+ You little folk dream of at night--
+ Where candy-trees grow, and honey-brooks flow,
+ And corn-fields with popcorn are white;
+ And the beasts in the wood are ever so good
+ To children who visit them there--
+ What glory astride of a lion to ride,
+ Or to wrestle around with a bear!
+ The monkeys, they say:
+ “Come on, let us play,”
+ And they frisk in the cocoanut-trees:
+ While the parrots, that cling
+ To the peanut-vines, sing
+ Or converse with comparative ease!
+
+ Off! scamper to bed--you shall ride him to-night!
+ For, as soon as you’ve fallen asleep,
+ With a jubilant neigh he shall bear you away
+ Over forest and hillside and deep!
+ But tell us, my dear, all you see and you hear
+ In those beautiful lands over there,
+ Where the Fly-Away Horse wings his far-away course
+ With the wee one consigned to his care.
+ Then grandma will cry
+ In amazement: “Oh, my!”
+ And she’ll think it could never be so;
+ And only we two
+ Shall know it is true--
+ You and I, little precious! shall know!
+
+
+
+
+THE STORK
+
+
+ Last night the Stork came stalking,
+ And, Stork, beneath your wing
+ Lay, lapped in dreamless slumber,
+ The tiniest little thing!
+ From Babyland, out yonder
+ Beside a silver sea,
+ You brought a priceless treasure
+ As gift to mine and me!
+
+ Last night my dear one listened--
+ And, wife, you knew the cry--
+ The dear old Stork has sought our home
+ A many times gone by!
+ And in your gentle bosom
+ I found the pretty thing
+ That from the realm out yonder
+ Our friend the Stork did bring.
+
+ Last night a babe awakened,
+ And, babe, how strange and new
+ Must seem the home and people
+ The Stork has brought you to;
+ And yet methinks you like them--
+ You neither stare nor weep,
+ But closer to my dear one
+ You cuddle, and you sleep!
+
+ Last night my heart grew fonder--
+ O happy heart of mine,
+ Sing of the inspirations
+ That round my pathway shine!
+ And sing your sweetest love-song
+ To this dear nestling wee
+ The Stork from ’Way-Out-Yonder
+ Hath brought to mine and me!
+
+
+
+
+THE BOTTLE TREE
+
+
+ A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land--
+ Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
+ A snug little berth in that ship I demand
+ That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away
+ Where the Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day
+ And reacheth its fruit to each wee, dimpled hand;
+ You take of that fruit as much as you list,
+ For colic’s a nuisance that doesn’t exist!
+ So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,
+ And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,
+ For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast--
+ Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
+
+ The Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day!
+ Heigh-ho for Winkyway land!
+ And Bottle-Tree fruit (as I’ve heard people say)
+ Makes bellies of Bottle-Tree babies expand--
+ And that is a trick I would fain understand!
+ Heigh-ho for a bottle to-day!
+ And heigh-ho for a bottle to-night--
+ A bottle of milk that is creamy and white!
+ So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,
+ And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,
+ For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast--
+ Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
+
+
+
+
+GOOGLY-GOO
+
+
+ Of mornings, bright and early,
+ When the lark is on the wing
+ And the robin in the maple
+ Hops from her nest to sing,
+ From yonder cheery chamber
+ Cometh a mellow coo--
+ ’Tis the sweet, persuasive treble
+ Of my little Googly-Goo!
+
+ The sunbeams hear his music,
+ And they seek his little bed,
+ And they dance their prettiest dances
+ Round his golden curly head:
+ Schottisches, galops, minuets,
+ Gavottes and waltzes, too,
+ Dance they unto the music
+ Of my googling Googly-Goo.
+
+ My heart--my heart it leapeth
+ To hear that treble tone;
+ What music like _thy_ music,
+ My darling and mine own!
+ And patiently--yes, cheerfully
+ I toil the long day through--
+ My labor seemeth lightened
+ By the song of Googly-Goo!
+
+ I may not see his antics,
+ Nor kiss his dimpled cheek:
+ I may not smooth the tresses
+ The sunbeams love to seek;
+ It mattereth not--the echo
+ Of his sweet, persuasive coo
+ Recurreth to remind me
+ Of my little Googly-goo.
+
+ And when I come at evening,
+ I stand without the door
+ And patiently I listen
+ For that dear sound once more;
+ And oftentimes I wonder,
+ “Oh, God! what should I do
+ If any ill should happen
+ To my little Googly-Goo!”
+
+ Then in affright I call him--
+ I hear his gleeful shouts!
+ Begone, ye dread forebodings--
+ Begone, ye killing doubts!
+ For, with my arms about him,
+ My heart warms through and through
+ With the oogling and the googling
+ Of my little Googly-Goo!
+
+
+
+
+THE BENCH-LEGGED FYCE
+
+
+ Speakin’ of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce
+ Hed most o’ the virtues, an’ nary a vice.
+ Some folks called him Sooner, a name that arose
+ From his predisposition to chronic repose;
+ But, rouse his ambition, he couldn’t be beat--
+ Yer bet yer he got thar on all his four feet!
+
+ Mos’ dorgs hez some forte--like huntin’ an’ such,
+ But the sports o’ the field didn’t bother _him_ much;
+ Wuz just a plain dorg, an’ contented to be
+ On peaceable terms with the neighbors an’ me;
+ Used to fiddle an’ squirm, and grunt “Oh, how nice!”
+ When I tickled the back of that bench-legged fyce!
+
+ He wuz long in the bar’l, like a fyce oughter be;
+ His color wuz yaller as ever you see;
+ His tail, curlin’ upward, wuz long, loose, an’ slim--
+ When he didn’t wag _it_, why, the tail it wagged _him_!
+ His legs wuz so crooked, my bench-legged pup
+ Wuz as tall settin’ down as he wuz standin’ up!
+
+ He’d lie by the stove of a night an’ regret
+ The various vittles an’ things he had et;
+ When a stranger, most likely a tramp, come along,
+ He’d lift up his voice in significant song--
+ You wondered, by gum! how there ever wuz space
+ In that bosom o’ his’n to hold so much bass!
+
+ Of daytimes he’d sneak to the road an’ lie down,
+ An’ tackle the country dorgs comin’ to town;
+ By common consent he wuz boss in St. Joe,
+ For what he took hold of he never let go!
+ An’ a dude that come courtin’ our girl left a slice
+ Of his white flannel suit with our bench-legged fyce!
+
+ He wuz good to us kids--when we pulled at his fur
+ Or twisted his tail he would never demur;
+ He seemed to enjoy all our play an’ our chaff,
+ For his tongue ’u’d hang out an’ he’d laff an’ he’d laff;
+ An’ once, when the Hobart boy fell through the ice,
+ He wuz drug clean ashore by that bench-legged fyce!
+
+ We all hev our choice, an’ you, like the rest,
+ Allow that the dorg which you’ve got is the best;
+ I wouldn’t give much for the boy ’at grows up
+ With no friendship subsistin’ ’tween him an’ a pup!
+ When a fellow gits old--I tell you it’s nice
+ To think of his youth and his bench-legged fyce!
+
+ To think of the springtime ’way back in St. Joe--
+ Of the peach-trees abloom an’ the daisies ablow;
+ To think of the play in the medder an’ grove,
+ When little legs wrassled an’ little han’s strove;
+ To think of the loyalty, valor, an’ truth
+ Of the friendships that hallow the season of youth!
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE MISS BRAG
+
+
+ Little Miss Brag has much to say
+ To the rich little lady from over the way,
+ And the rich little lady puts out a lip
+ As she looks at her own white, dainty slip,
+ And wishes that _she_ could wear a gown
+ As pretty as gingham of faded brown!
+ For little Miss Brag she lays much stress
+ On the privileges of a gingham dress--
+ “Aha,
+ Oho!”
+
+ The rich little lady from over the way
+ Has beautiful dolls in vast array;
+ Yet she envies the raggedy home-made doll
+ She hears our little Miss Brag extol.
+ For the raggedy doll can fear no hurt
+ From wet, or heat, or tumble, or dirt!
+ Her nose is inked, and her mouth is, too,
+ And one eye’s black and the other’s blue--
+ “Aha,
+ Oho!”
+
+ The rich little lady goes out to ride
+ With footmen standing up outside,
+ Yet wishes that, sometimes, after dark
+ _Her_ father would trundle _her_ in the park;--
+ That, sometimes, _her_ mother would sing the things
+ Little Miss Brag says _her_ mother sings
+ When through the attic window streams
+ The moonlight full of golden dreams--
+ “Aha,
+ Oho!”
+
+ Yes, little Miss Brag has much to say
+ To the rich little lady from over the way;
+ And yet who knows but from her heart
+ Often the bitter sighs upstart--
+ Uprise to lose their burn and sting
+ In the grace of the tongue that loves to sing
+ Praise of the treasures all its own!
+ So I’ve come to love that treble tone--
+ “Aha,
+ Oho!”
+
+
+
+
+THE HUMMING-TOP
+
+
+ The top it hummeth a sweet, sweet song
+ To my dear little boy at play--
+ Merrily singeth all day long,
+ As it spinneth and spinneth away.
+ And my dear little boy
+ He laugheth with joy
+ When he heareth the monotone
+ Of that busy thing
+ That loveth to sing
+ The song that is all its own.
+
+ Hold fast the string and wind it tight,
+ That the song be loud and clear;
+ Now hurl the top with all your might
+ Upon the banquette here;
+ And straight from the string
+ The joyous thing
+ Boundeth and spinneth along,
+ And it whirrs and it chirrs
+ And it birrs and it purrs
+ Ever its pretty song.
+
+ Will ever my dear little boy grow old,
+ As some have grown before?
+ Will ever his heart feel faint and cold,
+ When he heareth the songs of yore?
+ Will ever this toy
+ Of my dear little boy,
+ When the years have worn away,
+ Sing sad and low
+ Of the long ago,
+ As it singeth to me to-day?
+
+
+
+
+LADY BUTTON-EYES
+
+
+ When the busy day is done,
+ And my weary little one
+ Rocketh gently to and fro;
+ When the night winds softly blow,
+ And the crickets in the glen
+ Chirp and chirp and chirp again;
+ When upon the haunted green
+ Fairies dance around their queen--
+ Then from yonder misty skies
+ Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.
+
+ Through the murk and mist and gloam,
+ To our quiet, cosey home,
+ Where to singing, sweet and low,
+ Rocks a cradle to and fro;
+ Where the clock’s dull monotone
+ Telleth of the day that’s done;
+ Where the moonbeams hover o’er
+ Playthings sleeping on the floor--
+ Where my weary wee one lies
+ Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.
+
+ Cometh like a fleeting ghost
+ From some distant eerie coast;
+ Never footfall can you hear
+ As that spirit fareth near--
+ Never whisper, never word
+ From that shadow-queen is heard.
+ In ethereal raiment dight,
+ From the realm of fay and sprite
+ In the depth of yonder skies
+ Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.
+
+ Layeth she her hands upon
+ My dear weary little one,
+ And those white hands overspread
+ Like a veil the curly head,
+ Seem to fondle and caress
+ Every little silken tress;
+ Then she smooths the eyelids down
+ Over those two eyes of brown--
+ In such soothing, tender wise
+ Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.
+
+ Dearest, feel upon your brow
+ That caressing magic now;
+ For the crickets in the glen
+ Chirp and chirp and chirp again,
+ While upon the haunted green
+ Fairies dance around their queen,
+ And the moonbeams hover o’er
+ Playthings sleeping on the floor--
+ Hush, my sweet! from yonder skies
+ Cometh Lady Button-Eyes!
+
+
+
+
+THE RIDE TO BUMPVILLE
+
+
+ Play that my knee was a calico mare
+ Saddled and bridled for Bumpville;
+ Leap to the back of this steed, if you dare,
+ And gallop away to Bumpville!
+ I hope you’ll be sure to sit fast in your seat,
+ For this calico mare is prodigiously fleet,
+ And many adventures you’re likely to meet
+ As you journey along to Bumpville.
+
+ This calico mare both gallops and trots
+ While whisking you off to Bumpville;
+ She paces, she shies, and she stumbles, in spots,
+ In the tortuous road to Bumpville;
+ And sometimes this strangely mercurial steed
+ Will suddenly stop and refuse to proceed,
+ Which, all will admit, is vexatious indeed,
+ When one is en route to Bumpville!
+
+ She’s scared of the cars when the engine goes “Toot!”
+ Down by the crossing at Bumpville;
+ You’d better look out for that treacherous brute
+ Bearing you off to Bumpville!
+ With a snort she rears up on her hindermost heels,
+ And executes jigs and Virginia reels--
+ Words fail to explain how embarrassed one feels
+ Dancing so wildly to Bumpville!
+
+ It’s bumpytybump and it’s jiggytyjog,
+ Journeying on to Bumpville;
+ It’s over the hilltop and down through the bog
+ You ride on your way to Bumpville;
+ It’s rattletybang over boulder and stump,
+ There are rivers to ford, there are fences to jump,
+ And the corduroy road it goes bumpytybump,
+ Mile after mile to Bumpville!
+
+ Perhaps you’ll observe it’s no easy thing
+ Making the journey to Bumpville,
+ So I think, on the whole, it were prudent to bring
+ An end to this ride to Bumpville;
+ For, though she has uttered no protest or plaint,
+ The calico mare must be blowing and faint--
+ What’s more to the point, I’m blowed if I ain’t!
+ So play we have got to Bumpville!
+
+
+
+
+THE BROOK
+
+
+ I looked in the brook and saw a face--
+ Heigh-ho, but a child was I!
+ There were rushes and willows in that place,
+ And they clutched at the brook as the brook ran by;
+ And the brook it ran its own sweet way,
+ As a child doth run in heedless play,
+ And as it ran I heard it say:
+ “Hasten with me
+ To the roistering sea
+ That is wroth with the flame of the morning sky!”
+
+ I look in the brook and see a face--
+ Heigh-ho, but the years go by!
+ The rushes are dead in the old-time place,
+ And the willows I knew when a child was I.
+ And the brook it seemeth to me to say,
+ As ever it stealeth on its way--
+ Solemnly now, and not in play:
+ “Oh, come with me
+ To the slumbrous sea
+ That is gray with the peace of the evening sky!”
+
+ _Heigh-ho, but the years go by--
+ I would to God that a child were I!_
+
+
+
+
+PICNIC-TIME
+
+
+ It’s June ag’in, an’ in my soul I feel the fillin’ joy
+ That’s sure to come this time o’ year to every little boy;
+ For, every June, the Sunday-schools at picnics may be seen,
+ Where “fields beyont the swellin’ floods stand dressed in livin’
+ green”;
+ Where little girls are skeered to death with spiders, bugs, and
+ ants,
+ An’ little boys get grass-stains on their go-to-meetin’ pants.
+ It’s June ag’in, an’ with it all what happiness is mine--
+ There’s goin’ to be a picnic, an’ I’m goin’ to jine!
+
+ One year I jined the Baptists, an’ goodness! how it rained!
+ (But grampa says that that’s the way “baptizo” is explained.)
+ And once I jined the ’Piscopils an’ had a heap o’ fun--
+ But the boss of all the picnics was the Presbyteriun!
+ They had so many puddin’s, sallids, sandwidges, an’ pies,
+ That a feller wisht his stummick was as hungry as his eyes!
+ Oh, yes, the eatin’ Presbyteriuns give yer is so fine
+ That when _they_ have a picnic, you bet _I’m_ goin’ to jine!
+
+ But at this time the Methodists have special claims on me,
+ For they’re goin’ to give a picnic on the 21st, D. V.;
+ Why should a liberal Universalist like me object
+ To share the joys of fellowship with every friendly sect?
+ However het’rodox their articles of faith elsewise may be,
+ Their doctrine of fried chick’n is a savin’ grace to me!
+ So on the 21st of June, the weather bein’ fine,
+ They’re goin’ to give a picnic, and I’m goin’ to jine!
+
+
+
+
+SHUFFLE-SHOON AND AMBER-LOCKS
+
+
+ Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks
+ Sit together, building blocks;
+ Shuffle-Shoon is old and gray,
+ Amber-Locks a little child,
+ But together at their play
+ Age and Youth are reconciled,
+ And with sympathetic glee
+ Build their castles fair to see.
+
+ “When I grow to be a man”
+ (So the wee one’s prattle ran),
+ “I shall build a castle so--
+ With a gateway broad and grand;
+ Here a pretty vine shall grow,
+ There a soldier guard shall stand;
+ And the tower shall be so high,
+ Folks will wonder, by and by!”
+
+ [Illustration: _Shuffle-shoon and Amber-locks_]
+
+ Shuffle-Shoon quoth: “Yes, I know;
+ Thus I builded long ago!
+ Here a gate and there a wall,
+ Here a window, there a door;
+ Here a steeple wondrous tall
+ Riseth ever more and more!
+ But the years have levelled low
+ What I builded long ago!”
+
+ So they gossip at their play,
+ Heedless of the fleeting day;
+ One speaks of the Long Ago
+ Where his dead hopes buried lie;
+ One with chubby cheeks aglow
+ Prattleth of the By and By;
+ Side by side, they build their blocks--
+ Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHUT-EYE TRAIN
+
+
+ Come, my little one, with me!
+ There are wondrous sights to see
+ As the evening shadows fall;
+ In your pretty cap and gown,
+ Don’t detain
+ The Shut-Eye train--
+ “Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,
+ “Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth,
+ And we hear the warning call:
+ “_All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!_”
+
+ Over hill and over plain
+ Soon will speed the Shut-Eye train!
+ Through the blue where bloom the stars
+ And the Mother Moon looks down
+ We’ll away
+ To land of Fay--
+ Oh, the sights that we shall see there!
+ Come, my little one, with me there--
+ ’Tis a goodly train of cars--
+ _All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!_
+
+ Swifter than a wild bird’s flight,
+ Through the realms of fleecy light
+ We shall speed and speed away!
+ Let the Night in envy frown--
+ What care we
+ How wroth she be!
+ To the Balow-land above us,
+ To the Balow-folk who love us,
+ Let us hasten while we may--
+ _All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!_
+
+ Shut-Eye Town is passing fair--
+ Golden dreams await us there;
+ We shall dream those dreams, my dear,
+ Till the Mother Moon goes down--
+ See unfold
+ Delights untold!
+ And in those mysterious places
+ We shall see beloved faces
+ And beloved voices hear
+ _In the grace of Shut-Eye Town_.
+
+ Heavy are your eyes, my sweet,
+ Weary are your little feet--
+ Nestle closer up to me
+ In your pretty cap and gown;
+ Don’t detain
+ The Shut-Eye train!
+ “Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,
+ “Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth,
+ Oh, the sights that we shall see!
+ _All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!_
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE-OH-DEAR
+
+
+ See, what a wonderful garden is here,
+ Planted and trimmed for my Little-Oh-Dear!
+ Posies so gaudy and grass of such brown--
+ Search ye the country and hunt ye the town
+ And never ye’ll meet with a garden so queer
+ As this one I’ve made for my Little-Oh-Dear!
+
+ Marigolds white and buttercups blue,
+ Lilies all dabbled with honey and dew,
+ The cactus that trails over trellis and wall,
+ Roses and pansies and violets--all
+ Make proper obeisance and reverent cheer
+ When into her garden steps Little-Oh-Dear.
+
+ And up at the top of that lavender-tree
+ A silver-bird singeth as only can she;
+ For, ever and only, she singeth the song
+ “I love you--I love you!” the happy day long;--
+ Then the echo--the echo that smiteth me here!
+ “I love you, I love you,” my Little-Oh-Dear!
+
+ The garden may wither, the silver-bird fly--
+ But what careth my little precious, or I?
+ From her pathway of flowers that in springtime upstart
+ She walketh the tenderer way in my heart
+ And, oh, it is always the summer-time _here_
+ With that song of “I love you,” my Little-Oh-Dear!
+
+
+
+
+SWING HIGH AND SWING LOW
+
+
+ Swing high and swing low
+ While the breezes they blow--
+ It’s off for a sailor thy father would go;
+ And it’s here in the harbor, in sight of the sea,
+ He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me
+ _“Swing high and swing low_
+ _While the breezes they blow!”_
+
+ Swing high and swing low
+ While the breezes they blow--
+ It’s oh for the waiting as weary days go!
+ And it’s oh for the heartache that smiteth me when
+ I sing my song over and over again:
+ _“Swing high and swing low_
+ _While the breezes they blow!”_
+
+ “Swing high and swing low”--
+ The sea singeth so,
+ And it waileth anon in its ebb and its flow;
+ And a sleeper sleeps on to that song of the sea
+ Nor recketh he ever of mine or of me!
+ _“Swing high and swing low_
+ _While the breezes they blow--_
+ _’Twas off for a sailor thy father would go!”_
+
+
+
+
+WHEN I WAS A BOY
+
+
+ Up in the attic where I slept
+ When I was a boy, a little boy,
+ In through the lattice the moonlight crept,
+ Bringing a tide of dreams that swept
+ Over the low, red trundle-bed,
+ Bathing the tangled curly head,
+ While moonbeams played at hide-and-seek
+ With the dimples on the sun-browned cheek--
+ When I was a boy, a little boy!
+
+ And oh! the dreams--the dreams I dreamed!
+ When I was a boy, a little boy!
+ For the grace that through the lattice streamed
+ Over my folded eyelids seemed
+ To have the gift of prophecy,
+ And to bring me glimpses of times to be
+ When manhood’s clarion seemed to call--
+ Ah! _that_ was the sweetest dream of all,
+ When I was a boy, a little boy!
+
+ I’d like to sleep where I used to sleep
+ When I was a boy, a little boy!
+ For in at the lattice the moon would peep,
+ Bringing her tide of dreams to sweep
+ The crosses and griefs of the years away
+ From the heart that is weary and faint to-day;
+ And those dreams should give me back again
+ A peace I have never known since then--
+ When I was a boy, a little boy!
+
+
+
+
+AT PLAY
+
+
+ Play that you are mother dear,
+ And play that papa is your beau;
+ Play that we sit in the corner here,
+ Just as we used to, long ago.
+ Playing so, we lovers two
+ Are just as happy as we can be,
+ And I’ll say “I love you” to you,
+ And you say “I love you” to me!
+ “I love you” we both shall say,
+ All in earnest and all in play.
+
+ Or, play that you are that other one
+ That some time came, and went away;
+ And play that the light of years agone
+ Stole into my heart again to-day!
+ Playing that you are the one I knew
+ In the days that never again may be,
+ I’ll say “I love you” to you,
+ And you say “I love you” to me!
+ “I love you!” my heart shall say
+ To the ghost of the past come back to-day!
+
+ Or, play that you sought this nestling-place
+ For your own sweet self, with that dual guise
+ Of your pretty mother in your face
+ And the look of that other in your eyes!
+ So the dear old loves shall live anew
+ As I hold my darling on my knee,
+ And I’ll say “I love you” to you,
+ And you say “I love you” to me!
+ Oh, many a strange, true thing we say
+ And do when we pretend to play!
+
+
+
+
+A VALENTINE
+
+
+ Go, Cupid, and my sweetheart tell
+ I love her well.
+ Yes, though she tramples on my heart
+ And rends that bleeding thing apart;
+ And though she rolls a scornful eye
+ On doting me when I go by;
+ And though she scouts at everything
+ As tribute unto her I bring--
+ Apple, banana, caramel--
+ Haste, Cupid, to my love and tell,
+ In spite of all, I love her well!
+
+ And further say I have a sled
+ Cushioned in blue and painted red!
+ The groceryman has promised I
+ Can “hitch” whenever he goes by--
+ Go, tell her that, and, furthermore,
+ Apprise my sweetheart that a score
+ Of other little girls implore
+ The boon of riding on that sled
+ Painted and hitched, as aforesaid;--
+ And tell her, Cupid, only she
+ Shall ride upon that sled with me!
+ Tell her this all, and further tell
+ I love her well.
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE ALL-ALONEY
+
+
+ Little All-Aloney’s feet
+ Pitter-patter in the hall,
+ And his mother runs to meet
+ And to kiss her toddling sweet,
+ Ere perchance he fall.
+ He is, oh, so weak and small!
+ Yet what danger shall he fear
+ When his mother hovereth near,
+ And he hears her cheering call:
+ “All-Aloney”?
+
+ Little All-Aloney’s face
+ It is all aglow with glee,
+ As around that romping-place
+ At a terrifying pace
+ Lungeth, plungeth he!
+ And that hero seems to be
+ All unconscious of our cheers--
+ Only one dear voice he hears
+ Calling reassuringly:
+ “All-Aloney!”
+
+ Though his legs bend with their load,
+ Though his feet they seem so small
+ That you cannot help forebode
+ Some disastrous episode
+ In that noisy hall,
+ Neither threatening bump nor fall
+ Little All-Aloney fears,
+ But with sweet bravado steers
+ Whither comes that cheery call:
+ “All-Aloney!”
+
+ Ah, that in the years to come,
+ When he shares of Sorrow’s store,--
+ When his feet are chill and numb,
+ When his cross is burdensome,
+ And his heart is sore:
+ Would that he could hear once more
+ The gentle voice he used to hear--
+ Divine with mother love and cheer--
+ Calling from yonder spirit shore:
+ “All, all alone!”
+
+
+
+
+THE CUNNIN’ LITTLE THING
+
+
+ When baby wakes of mornings,
+ Then it’s wake, ye people all!
+ For another day
+ Of song and play
+ Has come at our darling’s call!
+ And, till she gets her dinner,
+ She makes the welkin ring,
+ And she _won’t_ keep still till she’s had her fill
+ The cunnin’ little thing!
+
+ When baby goes a-walking,
+ Oh, how her paddies fly!
+ For that’s the way
+ The babies say
+ To other folk “by-by”;
+ The trees bend down to kiss her,
+ And the birds in rapture sing,
+ As there she stands and waves her hands--
+ The cunnin’ little thing!
+
+ When baby goes a-rocking
+ In her bed at close of day,
+ At hide-and-seek
+ On her dainty cheek
+ The dreams and the dimples play;
+ Then it’s sleep in the tender kisses
+ The guardian angels bring
+ From the Far Above to my sweetest love--
+ You cunnin’ little thing!
+
+
+
+
+THE DOLL’S WOOING
+
+
+ The little French doll was a dear little doll
+ Tricked out in the sweetest of dresses;
+ Her eyes were of hue
+ A most delicate blue
+ And dark as the night were her tresses;
+ Her dear little mouth was fluted and red,
+ And this little French doll was so very well bred
+ That whenever accosted her little mouth said:
+ “Mamma! mamma!”
+
+ The stockinet doll, with one arm and one leg,
+ Had once been a handsome young fellow,
+ But now he appeared
+ Rather frowzy and bleared
+ In his torn regimentals of yellow;
+ Yet his heart gave a curious thump as he lay
+ In the little toy cart near the window one day
+ And heard the sweet voice of that French dolly say:
+ “Mamma! mamma!”
+
+ He listened so long and he listened so hard
+ That anon he grew ever so tender,
+ For it’s everywhere known
+ That the feminine tone
+ Gets away with all masculine gender!
+ He up and he wooed her with soldierly zest,
+ But all she’d reply to the love he professed
+ Were _these_ plaintive words (which perhaps you have guessed):
+ “Mamma! mamma!”
+
+ Her mother--a sweet little lady of five--
+ Vouchsafed her parental protection,
+ And although stockinet
+ Wasn’t blue-blooded, yet
+ She really could make no objection!
+ So soldier and dolly were wedded one day,
+ And a moment ago, as I journeyed that way,
+ I’m sure that I heard a wee baby voice say:
+ “Mamma! mamma!”
+
+
+
+
+INSCRIPTION FOR MY LITTLE SON’S SILVER PLATE
+
+
+ When thou dost eat from off this plate,
+ I charge thee be thou temperate;
+ Unto thine elders at the board
+ Do thou sweet reverence accord;
+ And, though to dignity inclined,
+ Unto the serving-folk be kind;
+ Be ever mindful of the poor,
+ Nor turn them hungry from the door;
+ And unto God, for health and food
+ And all that in thy life is good,
+ Give thou thy heart in gratitude.
+
+
+
+
+SEEIN’ THINGS
+
+
+ I ain’t afeard uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or mice,
+ An’ things ’at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice!
+ I’m pretty brave, I guess; an’ yet I hate to go to bed,
+ For, when I’m tucked up warm an’ snug an’ when my prayers are said,
+ Mother tells me “Happy dreams!” and takes away the light,
+ An’ leaves me lyin’ all alone an’ seein’ things at night!
+
+ Sometimes they’re in the corner, sometimes they’re by the door,
+ Sometimes they’re all a-standin in the middle uv the floor;
+ Sometimes they are a-sittin’ down, sometimes they’re walkin’ round
+ So softly an’ so creepylike they never make a sound!
+ Sometimes they are as black as ink, an’ other times they’re white--
+ But the color ain’t no difference when you see things at night!
+
+ Once, when I licked a feller ’at had just moved on our street,
+ An’ father sent me up to bed without a bite to eat,
+ I woke up in the dark an’ saw things standin’ in a row,
+ A-lookin’ at me cross-eyed an’ p’intin’ at me--so!
+ Oh, my! I wuz so skeered that time I never slep’ a mite--
+ It’s almost alluz when I’m bad I see things at night!
+
+ Lucky thing I ain’t a girl, or I’d be skeered to death!
+ Bein’ I’m a boy, I duck my head an’ hold my breath;
+ An’ I am, oh! _so_ sorry I’m a naughty boy, an’ then
+ I promise to be better an’ I say my prayers again!
+ Gran’ma tells me that’s the only way to make it right
+ When a feller has been wicked an’ sees things at night!
+
+ An’ so, when other naughty boys would coax me into sin,
+ I try to skwush the Tempter’s voice ’at urges me within;
+ An’ when they’s pie for supper, or cakes ’at’s big an’ nice,
+ I want to--but I do not pass my plate f’r them things twice!
+ No, ruther let Starvation wipe me slowly out o’ sight
+ Than I should keep a-livin’ on an’ seein’ things at night!
+
+[Illustration: _Seein’ Things_]
+
+
+
+
+FISHERMAN JIM’S KIDS
+
+
+ Fisherman Jim lived on the hill
+ With his bonnie wife an’ his little boys;
+ ’Twuz “Blow, ye winds, as blow ye will--
+ Naught we reck of your cold and noise!”
+ For happy and warm were he an’ his,
+ And he dandled his kids upon his knee
+ To the song of the sea.
+
+ Fisherman Jim would sail all day,
+ But, when come night, upon the sands
+ His little kids ran from their play,
+ Callin’ to him an’ wavin’ their hands;
+ Though the wind was fresh and the sea was high,
+ He’d hear ’em--you bet--above the roar
+ Of the waves on the shore!
+
+ Once Fisherman Jim sailed into the bay
+ As the sun went down in a cloudy sky,
+ And never a kid saw he at play,
+ And he listened in vain for the welcoming cry.
+ In his little house he learned it all,
+ And he clinched his hands and he bowed his head--
+ “The fever!” they said.
+
+ ’Twuz a pitiful time for Fisherman Jim,
+ With them darlin’s a-dyin’ afore his eyes,
+ A-stretchin’ their wee hands out to him
+ An’ a-breakin’ his heart with the old-time cries
+ He had heerd so often upon the sands;
+ For they thought they wuz helpin’ his boat ashore--
+ Till they spoke no more.
+
+ But Fisherman Jim lived on and on,
+ Castin’ his nets an’ sailin’ the sea;
+ As a man will live when his heart is gone,
+ Fisherman Jim lived hopelessly,
+ Till once in those years they come an’ said:
+ “Old Fisherman Jim is powerful sick--
+ Go to him, quick!”
+
+ Then Fisherman Jim says he to me:
+ “It’s a long, long cruise--you understand--
+ But over beyont the ragin’ sea
+ I kin see my boys on the shinin’ sand
+ Waitin’ to help this ol’ hulk ashore,
+ Just as they used to--ah, mate, you know!--
+ In the long ago.”
+
+ No, sir! he wuzn’t afeard to die;
+ For all night long he seemed to see
+ His little boys of the days gone by,
+ An’ to hear sweet voices forgot by me!
+ An’ just as the mornin’ sun come up--
+ “They’re holdin’ me by the hands!” he cried,
+ An’ so he died.
+
+
+
+
+“FIDDLE-DEE-DEE”
+
+
+ There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,
+ And all he could whistle was “Fiddle-dee-dee”--
+ A very provoking, unmusical song
+ For one to be whistling the summer day long!
+ Yet always contented and busy was he
+ With that vocal recurrence of “Fiddle-dee-dee.”
+
+ Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four,
+ That weird iteration repented him sore;
+ “I prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! fetch me my gun,
+ For, by our St. Didy! the deed must be done
+ That shall presently rid all creation and me
+ Of that ominous bird and his ‘Fiddle-dee-dee’!”
+
+ Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son
+ His awfully truculent little red gun;
+ The stock was of pine and the barrel of tin,
+ The “bang” it came out where the bullet went in--
+ The right kind of weapon I think you’ll agree
+ For slaying all fowl that go “Fiddle-dee-dee”!
+
+ The brave little soldier quoth never a word,
+ But he up and he drew a straight bead on that bird;
+ And, while that vain creature provokingly sang,
+ The gun it went off with a terrible bang!
+ Then loud laughed the youth--“By my Bottle,” cried he,
+ “I’ve put a quietus on ‘Fiddle-dee-dee’!”
+
+ Out came then Dear-Mother-Mine, saying: “My son,
+ Right well have you wrought with your little red gun!
+ Hereafter no evil at all need I fear,
+ With such a brave soldier as You-My-Love here!”
+ She kissed the dear boy.
+ [The bird in the tree
+ Continued to whistle his “Fiddle-dee-dee”!]
+
+
+
+
+OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY
+
+
+ Over the hills and far away,
+ A little boy steals from his morning play,
+ And under the blossoming apple-tree
+ He lies and he dreams of the things to be:
+ Of battles fought and of victories won,
+ Of wrongs o’erthrown and of great deeds done--
+ Of the valor that he shall prove some day,
+ Over the hills and far away--
+ Over the hills and far away!
+
+ Over the hills and far away
+ It’s, oh, for the toil the livelong day!
+ But it mattereth not to the soul aflame
+ With a love for riches and power and fame!
+ On, O man! while the sun is high--
+ On to the certain joys that lie
+ Yonder where blazeth the noon of day,
+ Over the hills and far away--
+ Over the hills and far away!
+
+ Over the hills and far away,
+ An old man lingers at close of day;
+ Now that his journey is almost done,
+ His battles fought and his victories won--
+ The old-time honesty and truth,
+ The trustfulness and the friends of youth,
+ Home and mother--where are they?
+ Over the hills and far away--
+ Over the years and far away!
+
+* * * * *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s note
+
+
+Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. Formatting
+has been standardized.
+
+Spelling has been retained as originally published except for changes
+below:
+
+Page 68: "Oh, yes, there ’s lots" "Oh, yes, there’s lots"
+Page 141: "they ’re running still" "they’re running still"
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75578 ***
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+
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+ margin-left: 2em;
+}
+
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+.illowp54 {width: 54%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp54 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp55 {width: 55%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp55 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp56 {width: 56%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp56 {width: 100%;}
+
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+ </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75578 ***</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>POEMS OF CHILDHOOD</h1>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp55" id="i_title" style="max-width: 62.5em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption">POEMS OF CHILDHOOD<br>
+BY EVGENE FIELD<br>
+WITH ILLVSTRATIONS<br>
+BY MAXFIELD PARRISH<br>
+<br>
+CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br>
+NEW YORK MCMIV<br>
+</figcaption>
+</figure>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph4">
+WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM<br>
+Copyright, 1892<br>
+By <span class="smcap">Mary French Field</span><br>
+<br>
+LOVE SONGS OF CHILDHOOD<br>
+Copyright, 1894<br>
+By <span class="smcap">Eugene Field</span><br>
+<br>
+Copyright, 1904<br>
+By <span class="smcap">Charles Scribner’s Sons</span><br>
+Published, September, 1904<br>
+</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<table class="autotable">
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td class="tdr">PAGE</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">With Trumpet and Drum</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Krinken</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Naughty Doll</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Nightfall in Dordrecht</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Intry-Mintry</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Pittypat and Tippytoe</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Balow, my Bonnie</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Hawthorne Children</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Little Blue Pigeon</span> (Japanese Lullaby)</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Lyttel Boy</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Teeny-Weeny</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Nellie</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Norse Lullaby</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Sugar-Plum Tree</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Grandma’s Prayer</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Some Time</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Fire-Hangbird’s Nest</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Gold and Love for Dearie</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Peace of Christmas-Time</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">To a Little Brook</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Croodlin’ Doo</span><a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Little Mistress Sans-Merci</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Long Ago</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">In the Firelight</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Cobbler and Stork</span> (Armenian Folk-Lore)</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Lollyby, lolly, Lollyby</span>”</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Lizzie and the Baby</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">At the Door</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Hugo’s “Child at Play”</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Wynken, Blynken and Nod</span> (Dutch Lullaby)</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Hi-Spy</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Little Boy Blue</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Father’s Letter</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Jewish Lullaby</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Our Whippings</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Armenian Mother</span> (Folk-Song)</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Heigho, my Dearie</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">To a Usurper</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Bell-flower Tree</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Fairy and Child</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Grandsire</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Hushaby, Sweet my Own</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Child and Mother</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Medieval Eventide Song</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Little Peach</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Armenian Lullaby</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Christmas Treasures</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Oh, Little Child</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Ganderfeather’s Gift</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Bambino</span> (Sicilian Folk-Song)</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Little Homer’s Slate</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Rock-a-By Lady</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Booh!</span>”</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_110">110</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Garden and Cradle</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Night Wind</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Kissing Time</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Jest ’fore Christmas</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Beard and Baby</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Dinkey-Bird</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Drum</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Dead Babe</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Happy Household</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">So, so, Rock-a-by so!</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Song of Luddy-Dud</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Duel</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Good-Children Street</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Delectable Ballad of the Waller Lot</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Fly-Away Horse</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Stork</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Bottle Tree</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Googly-Goo</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Bench-Legged Fyce</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Little Miss Brag</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Humming-Top</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Lady Button-Eyes</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Ride to Bumpville</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Brook</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Picnic-Time</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Shut-Eye Train</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Little-Oh-Dear</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Swing High and Swing Low</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">When I was a Boy</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">At Play</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Valentine</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_182">182</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Little All-Aloney</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Cunnin’ Little Thing</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Doll’s Wooing</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Inscription for My Little Son’s Silver Plate</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Seein’ Things</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Fisherman Jim’s Kids</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Fiddle-Dee-Dee</span>”</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Over the Hills and Far Away</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a> Cooing Dove</p>
+
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="ph4">FROM DRAWINGS IN COLORS
+BY MAXFIELD PARRISH</p>
+
+
+<table class="autotable">
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td class="tdr">FACING PAGE</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">With Trumpet and Drum</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_2">2</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">With big tin trumpet and little red drum,<br>
+Marching like soldiers, the children come!</p></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Sugar-Plum Tree</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">28</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">And you carry away of the treasure that rains<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As much as your apron can hold!</span></p></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Wynken, Blynken and Nod</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_64">62</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">Wynken, Blynken and Nod one night<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sailed off in a wooden shoe—</span><br>
+Sailed on a river of crystal light,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Into a sea of dew.</span></p></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Little Peach</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">John took a bite and Sue a chew,<br>
+And then the trouble began to brew,—<br>
+Trouble the doctor couldn’t subdue.<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Too true!</span></p></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Dinkey-Bird</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_122">120</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">In an ocean, ’way out yonder<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(As all sapient people know),</span><br>
+Is the land of Wonder-Wander,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whither children love to go.</span></p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</span></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Fly-Away Horse</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_146">144</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You little folk dream of at night—</span></p></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_171">170</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sit together, building blocks;</span><br>
+Shuffle-Shoon is old and gray,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Amber-Locks a little child.</span></p></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Seein’ Things</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><p class="indent">I woke up in the dark an’ saw things standin’ in a row,<br>
+A-lookin’ at me cross-eyed an’ p’intin’ at me—so!</p></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="POEMS_OF_CHILDHOOD">POEMS OF CHILDHOOD</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="tiny">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="WITH_TRUMPET_AND_DRUM">WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">With big tin trumpet and little red drum,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Marching like soldiers, the children come!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">It’s this way and that way they circle and file—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">My! but that music of theirs is fine!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">This way and that way, and after a while</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">They march straight into this heart of mine!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Come on, little people, from cot and from hall—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">This heart it hath welcome and room for you all!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">It will sing you its songs and warm you with love,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">As your dear little arms with my arms intertwine;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">It will rock you away to the dreamland above—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And jollier still is it bound to become</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum!</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span></p> </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So come; though I see not <i>his</i> dear little face</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And hear not <i>his</i> voice in this jubilant place,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I know he were happy to bid me enshrine</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">His memory deep in my heart with your play—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And my heart it is lonely—so, little folk, come,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i002" style="max-width: 57.8125em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i002.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>With Trumpet and Drum</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="KRINKEN">KRINKEN</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Krinken was a little child,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It was summer when he smiled.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oft the hoary sea and grim</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Stretched its white arms out to him,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Calling, “Sun-child, come to me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Let me warm my heart with thee!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the child heard not the sea.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Krinken on the beach one day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Saw a maiden Nis at play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fair, and very fair, was she,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Just a little child was he.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Krinken,” said the maiden Nis,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Let me have a little kiss,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Just a kiss, and go with me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the summer-lands that be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Down within the silver sea.”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Krinken was a little child,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">By the maiden Nis beguiled;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Down into the calling sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With the maiden Nis went he.</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span></p> </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the sea calls out no more;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It is winter on the shore,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Winter where that little child</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Made sweet summer when he smiled:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Though ’tis summer on the sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where with maiden Nis went he,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Summer, summer evermore,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It is winter on the shore,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Winter, winter evermore.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of the summer on the deep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Come sweet visions in my sleep;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>His</i> fair face lifts from the sea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>His</i> dear voice calls out to me,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">These my dreams of summer be.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Krinken was a little child,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">By the maiden Nis beguiled;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oft the hoary sea and grim</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Reached its longing arms to him,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Crying, “Sun-child, come to me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Let me warm my heart with thee!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the sea calls out no more;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It is winter on the shore,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Winter, cold and dark and wild;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Krinken was a little child,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It was summer when he smiled;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Down he went into the sea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the winter bides with me.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Just a little child was he.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_NAUGHTY_DOLL">THE NAUGHTY DOLL</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">My dolly is a dreadful care,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Her name is Miss Amandy;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I dress her up and curl her hair,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And feed her taffy candy.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet heedless of the pleading voice</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of her devoted mother,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She will not wed her mother’s choice,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But says she’ll wed another.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’d have her wed the china vase,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">There is no Dresden rarer;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You might go searching every place</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And never find a fairer.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He is a gentle, pinkish youth,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of that there’s no denying;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet when I speak of him, forsooth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Amandy falls to crying!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">She loves the drum—that’s very plain—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And scorns the vase so clever;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And weeping, vows she will remain</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A spinster doll forever!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The protestations of the drum<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I am convinced are hollow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When once distressing times should come,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">How soon would ruin follow!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet all in vain the Dresden boy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">From yonder mantel woos her;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A mania for that vulgar toy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The noisy drum, imbues her!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In vain I wheel her to and fro,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And reason with her mildly,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Her waxen tears in torrents flow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Her sawdust heart beats wildly.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’m sure that when I’m big and tall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And wear long trailing dresses,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I sha’n’t encourage beaux at all</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Till mama acquiesces;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Our choice will be a suitor then</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As pretty as this vase is,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, how we’ll hate the noisy men</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With whiskers on their faces!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="NIGHTFALL_IN_DORDRECHT">NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The mill goes toiling slowly around</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">With steady and solemn creak,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And my little one hears in the kindly sound</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The voice of the old mill speak.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While round and round those big white wings</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Grimly and ghostlike creep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">My little one hears that the old mill sings:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The sails are reefed and the nets are drawn,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And, over his pot of beer,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The fisher, against the morrow’s dawn,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Lustily maketh cheer;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He mocks at the winds that caper along</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">From the far-off clamorous deep—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But we—we love their lullaby song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Of “Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Old dog Fritz in slumber sound</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Groans of the stony mart—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To-morrow how proudly he’ll trot you round,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Hitched to our new milk-cart!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And you shall help me blanket the kine<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And fold the gentle sheep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And set the herring a-soak in brine—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">But now, little tulip, sleep!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">A Dream-One comes to button the eyes</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">That wearily droop and blink,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While the old mill buffets the frowning skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And scolds at the stars that wink;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over your face the misty wings</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Of that beautiful Dream-One sweep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And rocking your cradle she softly sings:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="INTRY-MINTRY">INTRY-MINTRY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Willy and Bess, Georgie and May—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Once, as these children were hard at play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An old man, hoary and tottering, came</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And watched them playing their pretty game.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He seemed to wonder, while standing there,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">What the meaning thereof could be—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Aha, but the old man yearned to share</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Of the little children’s innocent glee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As they circled around with laugh and shout</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And told their rime at counting out:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Intry-mintry, cutrey-corn,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Apple-seed and apple-thorn;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Wire, brier, limber, lock,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Twelve geese in a flock;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Some flew east, some flew west,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Some flew over the cuckoo’s nest!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Willie and Bess, Georgie and May—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, the mirth of that summer-day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twas Father Time who had come to share</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The innocent joy of those children there;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He learned betimes the game they played<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And into their sport with them went he—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">How <i>could</i> the children have been afraid,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Since little they recked who he might be?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They laughed to hear old Father Time</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mumbling that curious nonsense rime</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Of “Intry-mintry, cutrey-corn,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Apple-seed and apple-thorn;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Wire, brier, limber, lock,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Twelve geese in a flock;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Some flew east, some flew west,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Some flew over the cuckoo’s nest!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Willie and Bess, Georgie and May,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And joy of summer—where are they?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The grim old man still standeth near</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Crooning the song of a far-off year;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And into the winter I come alone,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Cheered by that mournful requiem,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Soothed by the dolorous monotone</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">That shall count me off as it counted them—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The solemn voice of old Father Time</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Chanting the homely nursery rime</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">He learned of the children a summer morn</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">When, with “apple-seed and apple-thorn,”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Life was full of the dulcet cheer</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">That bringeth the grace of heaven anear—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The sound of the little ones hard at play—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Willie and Bess, Georgie and May.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="PITTYPAT_AND_TIPPYTOE">PITTYPAT AND TIPPYTOE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">All day long they come and go—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pittypat and Tippytoe;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Footprints up and down the hall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Playthings scattered on the floor,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Finger-marks along the wall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Tell-tale smudges on the door—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">By these presents you shall know</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pittypat and Tippytoe.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">How they riot at their play!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And a dozen times a day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In they troop, demanding bread—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Only buttered bread will do,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And that butter must be spread</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Inches thick with sugar too!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I never can say, “No,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pittypat and Tippytoe!”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></div></div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes there are griefs to soothe,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes ruffled brows to smooth;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For (I much regret to say)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Tippytoe and Pittypat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Sometimes interrupt their play</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">With an internecine spat;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fie, for shame! to quarrel so—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pittypat and Tippytoe!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, the thousand worrying things</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Every day recurrent brings!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Hands to scrub and hair to brush,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Search for playthings gone amiss,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Many a wee complaint to hush,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Many a little bump to kiss;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Life seems one vain, fleeting show</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To Pittypat and Tippytoe!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And when day is at an end,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There are little duds to mend:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Little frocks are strangely torn,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Little shoes great holes reveal,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Little hose, but one day worn,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Rudely yawn at toe and heel!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Who but <i>you</i> could work such woe,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pittypat and Tippytoe?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But when comes this thought to me:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Some there are that childless be,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Stealing to their little beds,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">With a love I cannot speak,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Tenderly I stroke their heads—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Fondly kiss each velvet cheek.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">God help those who do not know</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A Pittypat or Tippytoe!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">On the floor and down the hall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Rudely smutched upon the wall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">There are proofs in every kind</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Of the havoc they have wrought,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And upon my heart you’d find</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Just such trade-marks, if you sought;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, how glad I am ’tis so,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pittypat and Tippytoe!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="BALOW_MY_BONNIE">BALOW, MY BONNIE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hush, bonnie, dinna greit;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Moder will rocke her sweete,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Balow, my boy!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When that his toile ben done,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Daddie will come anone,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hush thee, my lyttel one;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Balow, my boy!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Gin thou dost sleepe, perchaunce</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fayries will come to daunce,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Balow, my boy!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oft hath thy moder seene</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Moonlight and mirkland queene</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Daunce on thy slumbering een,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Balow, my boy!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then droned a bomblebee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Saftly this songe to thee:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">“Balow, my boy!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And a wee heather bell,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pluckt from a fayry dell,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Chimed thee this rune hersell:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">“Balow, my boy!”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span></div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Soe, bonnie, dinna greit;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Moder doth rock her sweete,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Balow, my boy!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Give mee thy lyttel hand,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Moder will hold it and</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Lead thee to balow land,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Balow, my boy!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_HAWTHORNE_CHILDREN">THE HAWTHORNE CHILDREN</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Hawthorne children—seven in all—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Are famous friends of mine,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And with what pleasure I recall</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">How, years ago, one gloomy fall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">I took a tedious railway line</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And journeyed by slow stages down</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Unto that sleepy seaport town</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">(Albeit one worth seeing),</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where Hildegarde, John, Henry, Fred,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Beatrix and Gwendolen</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And she that was the baby then—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">These famous seven, as aforesaid,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Lived, moved, and had their being.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Hawthorne children gave me such</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">A welcome by the sea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That the eight of us were soon in touch,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And though their mother marvelled much,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Happy as larks were we!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Egad I was a boy again</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With Henry, John, and Gwendolen!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And, oh! the funny capers</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I cut with Hildegarde and Fred!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The pranks we heedless children played,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The deafening, awful noise we made—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">’Twould shock my family, if they read</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">About it in the papers!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Hawthorne children all were smart;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The girls, as I recall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Had comprehended every art</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Appealing to the head and heart,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The boys were gifted, all;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twas Hildegarde who showed me how</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To hitch the horse and milk a cow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And cook the best of suppers;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With Beatrix upon the sands</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I sprinted daily, and was beat,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While Henry stumped me to the feat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of walking round upon my hands</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Instead of on my “uppers.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Hawthorne children liked me best</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Of evenings, after tea;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For then, by general request,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I spun them yarns about the west—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And <i>all</i> involving Me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I represented how I’d slain</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The bison on the gore-smeared plain,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And divers tales of wonder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I told of how I’d fought and bled</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In Injun scrimmages galore,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Till Mrs. Hawthorne quoth, “No more!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And packed her darlings off to bed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">To dream of blood and thunder!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">They must have changed a deal since then:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The misses tall and fair,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And those three lusty, handsome men,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Would they be girls and boys again</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Were I to happen there,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Down in that spot beside the sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where we made such tumultuous glee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">In dull autumnal weather?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ah me! the years go swiftly by,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And yet how fondly I recall</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The week when we were children all—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Dear Hawthorne children, you and I—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Just eight of us, together!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITTLE_BLUE_PIGEON">LITTLE BLUE PIGEON</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sleep to the singing of mother-bird swinging—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Swinging the nest where her little one lies.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Away out yonder I see a star—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Silvery star with a tinkling song;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the soft dew falling I hear it calling—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Calling and tinkling the night along.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">In through the window a moonbeam comes—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Little gold moonbeam with misty wings;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">All silently creeping, it asks: “Is he sleeping—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Sleeping and dreaming while mother sings?”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Up from the sea there floats the sob</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of the waves that are breaking upon the shore,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As though they were groaning in anguish, and moaning—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Bemoaning the ship that shall come no more.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Little blue pigeon with mournful eyes;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Am I not singing?—see, I am swinging—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Swinging the nest where my darling lies.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_LYTTEL_BOY">THE LYTTEL BOY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Some time there ben a lyttel boy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That wolde not renne and play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And helpless like that little tyke</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ben allwais in the way.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Goe, make you merrie with the rest,”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">His weary moder cried;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But with a frown he catcht her gown</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And hong untill her side.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">That boy did love his moder well,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Which spake him faire, I ween;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He loved to stand and hold her hand</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And ken her with his een;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His cosset bleated in the croft,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">His toys unheeded lay,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He wolde not goe, but, tarrying soe,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ben allwais in the way.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Godde loveth children and doth gird</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">His throne with soche as these,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And he doth smile in plaisaunce while</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">They cluster at his knees;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And some time, when he looked on earth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And watched the bairns at play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He kenned with joy a lyttel boy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ben allwais in the way.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And then a moder felt her heart</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">How that it ben to-torne,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She kissed eche day till she ben gray</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The shoon he use to worn;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">No bairn let hold untill her gown</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Nor played upon the floore,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Godde’s was the joy; a lyttel boy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ben in the way no more!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="TEENY-WEENY">TEENY-WEENY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Every evening, after tea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Teeny-Weeny comes to me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, astride my willing knee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Plies his lash and rides away;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Though that palfrey, all too spare,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Finds his burden hard to bear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Teeny-Weeny doesn’t care;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He commands, and I obey!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">First it’s trot, and gallop then;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now it’s back to trot again;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Teeny-Weeny likes it when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He is riding fierce and fast.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then his dark eyes brighter grow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And his cheeks are all aglow:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“More!” he cries, and never “Whoa!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Till the horse breaks down at last.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, the strange and lovely sights</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Teeny-Weeny sees of nights,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As he makes those famous flights</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">On that wondrous horse of his!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oftentimes before he knows,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wearylike his eyelids close,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, still smiling, off he goes</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where the land of By-low is.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There he sees the folk of fay</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hard at ring-a-rosie play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And he hears those fairies say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Come, let’s chase him to and fro!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, with a defiant shout,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Teeny puts that host to rout;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of this tale I make no doubt,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Every night he tells it so.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So I feel a tender pride</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In my boy who dares to ride</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That fierce horse of his astride,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Off into those misty lands;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And as on my breast he lies,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dreaming in that wondrous wise,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I caress his folded eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Pat his little dimpled hands.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">On a time he went away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Just a little while to stay,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I’m not ashamed to say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I was very lonely then;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Life without him was so sad,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You can fancy I was glad</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And made merry when I had</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Teeny-Weeny back again!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So of evenings, after tea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When he toddles up to me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And goes tugging at my knee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You should hear his palfrey neigh!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You should see him prance and shy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When, with an exulting cry,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Teeny-Weeny, vaulting high,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Plies his lash and rides away!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="NELLIE">NELLIE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">His listening soul hears no echo of battle,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">No pæan of triumph nor welcome of fame;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But down through the years comes a little one’s prattle,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And softly he murmurs her idolized name.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And it seems as if now at his heart she were clinging</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As she clung in those dear, distant years to his knee;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He sees her fair face, and he hears her sweet singing—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And Nellie is coming from over the sea.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">While each patriot’s hope stays the fulness of sorrow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">While our eyes are bedimmed and our voices are low,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He dreams of the daughter who comes with the morrow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Like an angel come back from the dear long ago.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, what to him now is a nation’s emotion,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And what for our love or our grief careth he?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A swift-speeding ship is a-sail on the ocean,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And Nellie is coming from over the sea!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">O daughter—my daughter! when Death stands before me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And beckons me off to that far misty shore,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Let me see your loved form bending tenderly o’er me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And feel your dear kiss on my lips as of yore.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the grace of your love all my anguish abating,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I’ll bear myself bravely and proudly as he,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And know the sweet peace that hallowed his waiting</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When Nellie was coming from over the sea.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="NORSE_LULLABY">NORSE LULLABY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The sky is dark and the hills are white</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And this is the song the storm-king sings,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As over the world his cloak he flings:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep”;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Sleep, little one, sleep.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">On yonder mountain-side a vine</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Clings at the foot of a mother pine;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The tree bends over the trembling thing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And only the vine can hear her sing:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What shall you fear when I am here?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Sleep, little one, sleep.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The king may sing in his bitter flight,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The tree may croon to the vine to-night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the little snowflake at my breast</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Liketh the song <i>I</i> sing the best—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Weary thou art, a-next my heart</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Sleep, little one, sleep.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SUGAR-PLUM_TREE">THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">’Tis a marvel of great renown!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">(As those who have tasted it say)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That good little children have only to eat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of that fruit to be happy next day.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When you’ve got to the tree, you would have a hard time</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To capture the fruit which I sing;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The tree is so tall that no person could climb</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And a gingerbread dog prowls below—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And this is the way you contrive to get at</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Those sugar-plums tempting you so:</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">You say but the word to that gingerbread dog</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And he barks with such terrible zest</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As her swelling proportions attest.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">From this leafy limb unto that,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Hurrah for that chocolate cat!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With stripings of scarlet or gold,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And you carry away of the treasure that rains</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As much as your apron can hold!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So come, little child, cuddle closer to me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In your dainty white nightcap and gown,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I’ll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree</div>
+ <div class="verse indent3">In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp51" id="i028" style="max-width: 59.375em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i028.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>The Sugar-plum Tree</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="GRANDMAS_PRAYER">GRANDMA’S PRAYER</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I pray that, risen from the dead,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I may in glory stand—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A crown, perhaps, upon my head,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But a needle in my hand.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ve never learned to sing or play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">So let no harp be mine;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From birth unto my dying day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Plain sewing’s been my line.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Therefore, accustomed to the end</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To plying useful stitches,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll be content if asked to mend</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The little angels’ breeches.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="SOME_TIME">SOME TIME</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night, my darling, as you slept,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I thought I heard you sigh,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And to your little crib I crept,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And watched a space thereby;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then, bending down, I kissed your brow—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For, oh! I love you so—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You are too young to know it now,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But some time you shall know.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Some time, when, in a darkened place</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where others come to weep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Your eyes shall see a weary face</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Calm in eternal sleep;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The speechless lips, the wrinkled brow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The patient smile may show—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You are too young to know it now,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But some time you shall know.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Look backward, then, into the years,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And see me here to-night—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">See, O my darling! how my tears</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Are falling as I write;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And feel once more upon your brow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The kiss of long ago—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You are too young to know it now,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But some time you shall know.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_FIRE-HANGBIRDS_NEST">THE FIRE-HANGBIRD’S NEST</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">As I am sitting in the sun upon the porch to-day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I look with wonder at the elm that stands across the way;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I say and mean “with wonder,” for now it seems to me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That elm is not as tall as years ago it used to be!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The old fire-hangbird’s built her nest therein for many springs—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">High up amid the sportive winds the curious cradle swings,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But not so high as when a little boy I did my best</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To scale that elm and carry off the old fire-hangbird’s nest!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Hubbard boys had tried in vain to reach the homely prize</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That dangled from that upper outer twig in taunting wise,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And once, when Deacon Turner’s boy had almost grasped the limb,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He fell! and had to have a doctor operate on him!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Philetus Baker broke his leg and Orrin Root his arm—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But what of that? The danger gave the sport a special charm!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Bixby and the Cutler boys, the Newtons and the rest</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ran every risk to carry off the old fire-hangbird’s nest!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I can remember that I used to knee my trousers through,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That mother used to wonder how my legs got black and blue,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And how she used to talk to me and make stern threats when she</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Discovered that my hobby was the nest in yonder tree;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">How, as she patched my trousers or greased my purple legs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She told me ’twould be wicked to destroy a hangbird’s eggs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And then she’d call on father and on gran’pa to attest</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That they, as boys, had never robbed an old fire-hangbird’s nest!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet all those years I coveted the trophy flaunting there,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While, as it were in mockery of my abject despair,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The old fire-hangbird confidently used to come and go,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As if she were indifferent to the bandit horde below!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sometimes clinging to her nest we thought we heard her chide</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The callow brood whose cries betrayed the fear that reigned inside:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Hush, little dears! all profitless shall be their wicked quest—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I knew my business when I built the old fire-hangbird’s nest!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">For many, very many years that mother-bird has come</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To rear her pretty little brood within that cosey home.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She is the selfsame bird of old—I’m certain it is she—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Although the chances are that she has quite forgotten me.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Just as of old that prudent, crafty bird of compound name<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">(And in parenthesis I’ll say her nest is still the same);</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Just as of old the passion, too, that fires the youthful breast</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To climb unto and comprehend the old fire-hangbird’s nest!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I like to see my old-time friend swing in that ancient tree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, if the elm’s as tall and sturdy as it <i>used</i> to be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’m sure that many a year that nest shall in the breezes blow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For boys aren’t what they used to be a forty years ago!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The elm looks shorter than it did when Brother Rufe and I</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Beheld with envious hearts that trophy flaunted from on high;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He writes that in the city where he’s living ’way out West</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His little boys have never seen an old fire-hangbird’s nest!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Poor little chaps! how lonesomelike their city life must be—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I wish they’d come and live awhile in this old house with me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They’d have the honest friends and healthful sports I used to know</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When Brother Rufe and I were boys a forty years ago.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, when they grew from romping lads to busy, useful men,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They could recall with proper pride their country life again;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And of those recollections of their youth I’m sure the best</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Would be of how they sought in vain the old fire-hangbird’s nest!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="BUTTERCUP_POPPY_FORGET-ME-NOT">BUTTERCUP, POPPY, FORGET-ME-NOT</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">These three bloomed in a garden spot;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And once, all merry with song and play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A little one heard three voices say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Shine and shadow, summer and spring,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">O thou child with the tangled hair</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And laughing eyes! we three shall bring</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Each an offering passing fair.”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The little one did not understand,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But they bent and kissed the dimpled hand.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Buttercup gambolled all day long,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sharing the little one’s mirth and song;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then, stealing along on misty gleams,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Poppy came bearing the sweetest dreams.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Playing and dreaming—and that was all,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Till once a sleeper would not awake;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Kissing the little face under the pall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">We thought of the words the third flower spake;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And we found betimes in a hallowed spot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The solace and peace of Forget-me-not.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Buttercup shareth the joy of day,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Glinting with gold the hours of play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bringeth the Poppy sweet repose,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When the hands would fold and the eyes would close;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And after it all—the play and the sleep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Of a little life—what cometh then?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the hearts that ache and the eyes that weep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">A new flower bringeth God’s peace again.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Each one serveth its tender lot—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Buttercup, Poppy, Forget-me-not.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="GOLD_AND_LOVE_FOR_DEARIE">GOLD AND LOVE FOR DEARIE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Out on the mountain over the town,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All night long, all night long,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The trolls go up and the trolls go down,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Bearing their packs and singing a song;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And this is the song the hill-folk croon,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As they trudge in the light of the misty moon—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">This is ever their dolorous tune:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Gold, gold! ever more gold—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Bright red gold for dearie!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Deep in the hill a father delves</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All night long, all night long;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">None but the peering, furtive elves</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Sees his toil and hears his song;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Merrily ever the cavern rings</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As merrily ever his pick he swings,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And merrily ever this song he sings:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Gold, gold! ever more gold—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Bright red gold for dearie!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mother is rocking thy lowly bed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All night long, all night long,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Happy to smooth thy curly head,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To hold thy hand and to sing <i>her</i> song:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis not of the hill-folk dwarfed and old,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nor the song of thy father, stanch and bold,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the burthen it beareth is not of gold;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But it’s “Love, love! nothing but love—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Mother’s love for dearie!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_PEACE_OF_CHRISTMAS-TIME">THE PEACE OF CHRISTMAS-TIME</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dearest, how hard it is to say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That all is for the best,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Since, sometimes, in a grievous way</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">God’s will is manifest.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">See with what hearty, noisy glee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Our little ones to-night</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dance round and round our Christmas tree</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With pretty toys bedight.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dearest, one voice they may not hear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">One face they may not see—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, what of all this Christmas cheer</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Cometh to you and me?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cometh before our misty eyes</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That other little face,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And we clasp, in tender, reverent wise,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That love in the old embrace.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dearest, the Christ-Child walks to-night,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Bringing his peace to men,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And he bringeth to you and to me the light</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of the old, old years again.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bringeth the peace of long ago,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When a wee one clasped your knee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And lisped of the morrow—dear one, you know—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And here come back is he!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dearest, ’tis sometimes hard to say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That all is for the best,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, often, in a grievous way</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">God’s will is manifest.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But in the grace of this holy night</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That bringeth us back our child,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Let us see that the ways of God are right,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And so be reconciled.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="TO_A_LITTLE_BROOK">TO A LITTLE BROOK</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">You’re not so big as you were then,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">O little brook!—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I mean those hazy summers when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">We boys roamed, full of awe, beside</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Your noisy, foaming, tumbling tide,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And wondered if it could be true</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That there were bigger brooks than you,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">O mighty brook, O peerless brook!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">All up and down this reedy place</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where lives the brook,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">We angled for the furtive dace;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The redwing-blackbird did his best</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To make us think he’d build his nest</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hard by the stream, when, like as not,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He’d hung it in a secret spot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Far from the brook, the telltale brook!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And often, when the noontime heat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Parboiled the brook,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">We’d draw our boots and swing our feet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Upon the waves that, in their play,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Would tag us last and scoot away;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And mother never seemed to know</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What burnt our legs and chapped them so—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But father guessed it was the brook!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Fido—how he loved to swim</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The cooling brook,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Whenever we’d throw sticks for him;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And how we boys <i>did</i> wish that we</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Could only swim as good as he—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why, Daniel Webster never was</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Recipient of such great applause</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As Fido, battling with the brook!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But once—O most unhappy day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For you, my brook!—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Came Cousin Sam along that way;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, having lived a spell out West,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where creeks aren’t counted much at best,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He neither waded, swam, nor leapt,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, with superb indifference, <i>stept</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Across that brook—our mighty brook!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why do you scamper on your way,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You little brook,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When I come back to you to-day?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Is it because you flee the grass</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That lunges at you as you pass,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As if, in playful mood, it would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Tickle the truant if it could,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You chuckling brook—you saucy brook?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Or is it you no longer know—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You fickle brook—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The honest friend of long ago?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The years that kept us twain apart</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Have changed my face, but not my heart—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Many and sore those years, and yet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I fancied you could not forget</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That happy time, my playmate brook!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, sing again in artless glee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My little brook,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The song you used to sing for me—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The song that’s lingered in my ears</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So soothingly these many years;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">My grief shall be forgotten when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I hear your tranquil voice again</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And that sweet song, dear little brook!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CROODLIN_DOO">CROODLIN’ DOO</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ho, pretty bee, did you see my croodlin’ doo?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Ho, little lamb, is she jinkin’ on the lea?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Ho, bonnie fairy, bring my dearie back to me—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Got a lump o’ sugar an’ a posie for you,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Only bring me back my wee, wee croodlin’ doo!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why! here you are, my little croodlin’ doo!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Looked in er cradle, but didn’t find you there—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Looked f’r my wee, wee croodlin’ doo ever’where;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">B’en kind lonesome all er day withouten you—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where you be’n, my teeny, wee, wee croodlin’ doo?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now you go balow, my little croodlin’ doo;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Now you go rockaby ever so far,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Rockaby, rockaby up to the star</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That’s winkin’ an’ blinkin’ an’ singin’ to you,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As you go balow, my wee, wee croodlin’ doo!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITTLE_MISTRESS_SANS-MERCI">LITTLE MISTRESS SANS-MERCI</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Mistress Sans-Merci</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fareth world-wide, fancy free:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Trotteth cooing to and fro,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And her cooing is command—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Never ruled there yet, I trow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Mightier despot in the land.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And my heart it lieth where</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mistress Sans-Merci doth fare.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Mistress Sans-Merci—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She hath made a slave of me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Go,” she biddeth, and I go—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Come,” and I am fain to come—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Never mercy doth she show,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Be she wroth or frolicsome,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet am I content to be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Slave to Mistress Sans-Merci!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Mistress Sans-Merci</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hath become so dear to me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That I count as passing sweet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">All the pain her moods impart,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And I bless the little feet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">That go trampling on my heart:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, how lonely life would be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But for little Sans-Merci!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Mistress Sans-Merci,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cuddle close this night to me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the heart, which all day long</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Ruthless thou hast trod upon,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Shall outpour a soothing song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">For its best-belovèd one—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">All its tenderness for thee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Mistress Sans-Merci!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LONG_AGO">LONG AGO</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I once knew all the birds that came</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And nested in our orchard trees,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For every flower I had a name,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I knew where thrived in yonder glen</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, I was very learned then,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But that was very long ago.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I knew the spot upon the hill</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where checkerberries could be found,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I knew the rushes near the mill</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I knew the wood—the very tree</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where lived the poaching, saucy crow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And all the woods and crows knew me—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But that was very long ago.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And pining for the joys of youth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I tread the old familiar spot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Only to learn this solemn truth:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I have forgotten, am forgot.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet here’s this youngster at my knee<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Knows all the things I used to know;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To think I once was wise as he!—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But that was very long ago.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I know it’s folly to complain</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of whatsoe’er the fates decree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet, were not wishes all in vain,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I tell you what my wish should be:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’d wish to be a boy again,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Back with the friends I used to know.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For I was, oh, so happy then—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But that was very long ago!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="IN_THE_FIRELIGHT">IN THE FIRELIGHT</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The fire upon the hearth is low,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And there is stillness everywhere,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And, like wing’d spirits, here and there</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The firelight shadows fluttering go.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And as the shadows round me creep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">A childish treble breaks the gloom,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And softly from a further room</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Comes: “Now I lay me down to sleep.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, somehow, with that little pray’r</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And that sweet treble in my ears,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">My thought goes back to distant years,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And lingers with a dear one there;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And as I hear my child’s amen,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">My mother’s faith comes back to me—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Crouched at her side I seem to be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And mother holds my hands again.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, for an hour in that dear place—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Oh, for the peace of that dear time—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Oh, for that childish trust sublime—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, for a glimpse of mother’s face!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet, as the shadows round me creep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">I do not seem to be alone—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Sweet magic of that treble tone</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And “Now I lay me down to sleep!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="COBBLER_AND_STORK">COBBLER AND STORK</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Cobbler.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Stork, I am justly wroth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For thou hast wronged me sore;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The ash roof-tree that shelters thee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Shall shelter thee no more!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Stork.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Full fifty years I’ve dwelt</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Upon this honest tree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And long ago (as people know!)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I brought thy father thee.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What hail hath chilled thy heart,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That thou shouldst bid me go?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Speak out, I pray—then I’ll away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Since thou commandest so.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Cobbler.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Thou tellest of the time</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When, wheeling from the west,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">This hut thou sought’st and one thou brought’st</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Unto a mother’s breast.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>I</i> was the wretched child</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Was fetched that dismal morn—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twere better die than be (as I)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To life of misery born!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And hadst thou borne me on</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Still farther up the town,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A king I’d be of high degree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And wear a golden crown!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For yonder lives the prince</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Was brought that selfsame day:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">How happy he, while—look at me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I toil my life away!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And see my little boy—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To what estate he’s born!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why, when I die no hoard leave I</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But poverty and scorn.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And <i>thou</i> hast done it all—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I might have been a king</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And ruled in state, but for thy hate,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Thou base, perfidious thing!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Stork.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Since, cobbler, thou dost speak</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of one thou lovest well,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hear of that king what grievous thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">This very morn befell.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Whilst round thy homely bench<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Thy well-belovèd played,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In yonder hall beneath a pall</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A little one was laid;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Thy well-belovèd’s face</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Was rosy with delight,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But ’neath that pall in yonder hall</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The little face is white;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Whilst by a merry voice</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Thy soul is filled with cheer,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Another weeps for one that sleeps</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All mute and cold anear;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">One father hath his hope,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And one is childless now;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>He</i> wears a crown and rules a town—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Only a cobbler <i>thou</i>!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wouldst thou exchange thy lot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">At price of such a woe?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll nest no more above thy door,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But, as thou bidst me, go.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Cobbler.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nay, stork! thou shalt remain—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I mean not what I said;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Good neighbors we must always be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">So make thy home o’erhead.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I would not change my bench</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For any monarch’s throne,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nor sacrifice at any price<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My darling and my own!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Stork! on my roof-tree bide,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That, seeing thee anear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll thankful be God sent by thee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Me and my darling here!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LOLLYBY_LOLLY_LOLLYBY">“LOLLYBY, LOLLY, LOLLYBY”</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night, whiles that the curfew bell ben ringing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I heard a moder to her dearie singing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“Lollyby, lolly, lollyby”;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And presently that chylde did cease hys weeping,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And on his moder’s breast did fall a-sleeping</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">To “lolly, lolly, lollyby.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Faire ben the chylde unto his moder clinging,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But fairer yet the moder’s gentle singing—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“Lollyby, lolly, lollyby”;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And angels came and kisst the dearie smiling</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In dreems while him hys moder ben beguiling</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">With “lolly, lolly, lollyby.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then to my harte saies I: “Oh, that thy beating</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Colde be assuaged by some sweete voice repeating</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">‘Lollyby, lolly, lollyby’;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That like this lyttel chylde I, too, ben sleeping</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With plaisaunt phantasies about me creeping,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">To ‘lolly, lolly, lollyby’!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Some time—mayhap when curfew bells are ringing—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A weary harte shall heare straunge voices singing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“Lollyby, lolly, lollyby”;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Some time, mayhap, with Chryst’s love round me streaming,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I shall be lulled into eternal dreeming,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">With “lolly, lolly, lollyby.”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIZZIE_AND_THE_BABY">LIZZIE AND THE BABY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I wonder ef all wimmin air</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Like Lizzie is when we go out</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To theatres an’ concerts where</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Is things the papers talk about.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Do other wimmin fret an’ stew</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Like they wuz bein’ crucified—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Frettin’ show or concert through,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With wonderin’ ef the baby cried?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now Lizzie knows that gran’ma’s there</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To see that everything is right,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet Lizzie thinks that gran’ma’s care</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ain’t good enuff f’r baby, quite;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet what am I to answer when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">She kind uv fidgets at my side,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ asks me every now and then:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“I wonder if the baby cried?”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Seems like she seen two little eyes</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A-pinin’ f’r their mother’s smile—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Seems like she heern the pleadin’ cries</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Uv one she thinks uv all the while;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ so she’s sorry that she come,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">An’ though she allus tries to hide</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The truth, she’d ruther stay to hum</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Than wonder ef the baby cried.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yes, wimmin folks is all alike—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">By Lizzie you kin jedge the rest;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There never wuz a little tyke,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But that his mother loved him best.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And nex’ to bein’ what I be—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The husband uv my gentle bride—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’d wisht I wuz that croodlin’ wee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With Lizzie wonderin’ ef I cried.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="AT_THE_DOOR">AT THE DOOR</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I thought myself, indeed, secure</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">So fast the door, so firm the lock;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, lo! he toddling comes to lure</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My parent ear with timorous knock.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">My heart were stone could it withstand</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The sweetness of my baby’s plea,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That timorous, baby knocking and</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Please let me in,—it’s only me.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I threw aside the unfinished book,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Regardless of its tempting charms,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, opening wide the door, I took</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My laughing darling in my arms.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Who knows but in Eternity,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I, like a truant child, shall wait</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The glories of a life to be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Beyond the Heavenly Father’s gate?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And will that Heavenly Father heed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The truant’s supplicating cry,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As at the outer door I plead,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“’Tis I, O Father! only I”?</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="HUGOS_CHILD_AT_PLAY">HUGO’S “CHILD AT PLAY”</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">A child was singing at his play—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I heard the song, and paused to hear;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His mother moaning, groaning lay,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And, lo! a spectre stood anear!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The child shook sunlight from his hair,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And carolled gayly all day long—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Aye, with that spectre gloating there,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The innocent made mirth and song!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">How like to harvest fruit wert thou,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">O sorrow, in that dismal room—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">God ladeth not the tender bough</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Save with the joy of bud and bloom!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="WYNKEN_BLYNKEN_AND_NOD">WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Sailed off in a wooden shoe—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sailed on a river of crystal light,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Into a sea of dew.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The old moon asked the three.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“We have come to fish for the herring fish</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That live in this beautiful sea;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Nets of silver and gold have we!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Said Wynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Blynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">And Nod.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The old moon laughed and sang a song,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As they rocked in the wooden shoe,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the wind that sped them all night long</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ruffled the waves of dew.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The little stars were the herring fish<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That lived in that beautiful sea—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Now cast your nets wherever you wish—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Never afeard are we”;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">So cried the stars to the fishermen three:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Wynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Blynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">And Nod.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">All night long their nets they threw</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the stars in the twinkling foam—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Bringing the fishermen home;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As if it could not be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And some folks thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of sailing that beautiful sea—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But I shall name you the fishermen three:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Wynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Blynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">And Nod.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And Nod is a little head,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Is a wee one’s trundle-bed.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So shut your eyes while mother sings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of wonderful sights that be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And you shall see the beautiful things</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As you rock in the misty sea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Wynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">Blynken,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent16">And Nod.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp51" id="i062" style="max-width: 57.8125em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i062.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>Wynken, Blynken, and Nod</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="HI-SPY">HI-SPY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Strange that the city thoroughfare,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Noisy and bustling all the day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Should with the night renounce its care</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And lend itself to children’s play!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, girls are girls, and boys are boys,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And have been so since Abel’s birth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And shall be so till dolls and toys</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Are with the children swept from earth.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The selfsame sport that crowns the day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of many a Syrian shepherd’s son,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Beguiles the little lads at play</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">By night in stately Babylon.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I hear their voices in the street,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Yet ’tis so different now from then!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Come, brother! from your winding-sheet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And let us two be boys again!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITTLE_BOY_BLUE">LITTLE BOY BLUE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The little toy dog is covered with dust,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But sturdy and staunch he stands;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the little toy soldier is red with rust,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And his musket moulds in his hands.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Time was when the little toy dog was new,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the soldier was passing fair;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Kissed them and put them there.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Now, don’t you go till I come,” he said,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“And don’t you make any noise!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He dreamt of the pretty toys;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, as he was dreaming, an angel song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Awakened our Little Boy Blue—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh! the years are many, the years are long,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But the little toy friends are true!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Each in the same old place—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Awaiting the touch of a little hand,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The smile of a little face;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And they wonder, as waiting the long years through</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the dust of that little chair,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What has become of our Little Boy Blue,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Since he kissed them and put them there.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="FATHERS_LETTER">FATHER’S LETTER</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’m going to write a letter to our oldest boy who went</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Out West last spring to practise law and run for president;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll tell him all the gossip I guess he’d like to hear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For he hasn’t seen the home-folks for going on a year!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Most generally it’s Marthy does the writing, but as she</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Is suffering with a felon, why, the job devolves on me—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, when the supper things are done and put away to-night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll draw my boots and shed my coat and settle down to write.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll tell him crops are looking up, with prospects big for corn,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That, fooling with the barnyard gate, the off-ox hurt his horn;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That the Templar lodge is doing well—Tim Bennett joined last week</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When the prohibition candidate for Congress came to speak;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That the old gray woodchuck’s living still down in the pasture-lot,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A-wondering what’s become of little William, like as not!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, yes, there’s lots of pleasant things and no bad news to tell,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Except that old Bill Graves was sick, but now he’s up and well.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cy Cooper says—(but I’ll not pass my word that it is so,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For Cy he is some punkins on spinning yarns, you know)—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He says that, since the freshet, the pickerel are so thick</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In Baker’s pond you can wade in and kill ’em with a stick!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Hubbard girls are teaching school, and Widow Cutler’s Bill</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Has taken Eli Baxter’s place in Luther Eastman’s mill;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Old Deacon Skinner’s dog licked Deacon Howard’s dog last week,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And now there are two lambkins in one flock that will not speak.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The yellow rooster froze his feet, a-wadin’ through the snow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And now he leans agin the fence when he starts in to crow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The chestnut colt that was so skittish when <i>he</i> went away—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ve broke him to the sulky and I drive him every day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">We’ve got pink window curtains for the front spare-room up-stairs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Lizzie’s made new covers for the parlor lounge and chairs;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">We’ve roofed the barn and braced the elm that has the hangbird’s nest—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, there’s been lots of changes since our William went out West!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Old Uncle Enos Packard is getting mighty gay—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He gave Miss Susan Birchard a peach the other day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His late lamented Sarah hain’t been buried quite a year,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So his purring ’round Miss Susan causes criticism here.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">At the last donation party, the minister opined<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That, if he’d half suspicioned what was coming, he’d resigned;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, though they brought him slippers like he was a centipede,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His pantry was depleted by the consequential feed!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">These are the things I’ll write him—our boy that’s in the West;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I’ll tell him how we miss him—his mother and the rest;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why, we never have an apple-pie that mother doesn’t say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“<i>He</i> liked it so—I wish that he could have a piece to-day!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll tell him we are prospering, and hope he is the same—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That we hope he’ll have no trouble getting on to wealth and fame;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And just before I write “good-by from father and the rest,”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll say that “mother sends her love,” and that will please</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">him best.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">For when <i>I</i> went away from home, the weekly news I heard</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Was nothing to the tenderness I found in that one word—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The sacred name of mother—why, even now as then,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The thought brings back the saintly face, the gracious love again;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And in my bosom seems to come a peace that is divine,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As if an angel spirit communed a while with mine;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And one man’s heart is strengthened by the message from above,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And earth seems nearer heaven when “mother sends her love.”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="JEWISH_LULLABY">JEWISH LULLABY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">My harp is on the willow-tree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Else would I sing, O love, to thee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">A song of long-ago—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Perchance the song that Miriam sung</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ere yet Judea’s heart was wrung</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">By centuries of woe.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I ate my crust in tears to-day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As scourged I went upon my way—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And yet my darling smiled;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Aye, beating at my breast, he laughed—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">My anguish curdled not the draught—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">’Twas sweet with love, my child!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The shadow of the centuries lies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Deep in thy dark and mournful eyes;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">But, hush! and close them now,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And in the dreams that thou shalt dream</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The light of other days shall seem</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">To glorify thy brow!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Our harp is on the willow-tree—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I have no song to sing to thee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">As shadows round us roll;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, hush and sleep, and thou shalt hear</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Jehovah’s voice that speaks to cheer</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Judea’s fainting soul!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="OUR_WHIPPINGS">OUR WHIPPINGS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Come, Harvey, let us sit a while and talk about the times</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Before you went to selling clothes and I to peddling rimes—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The days when we were little boys, as naughty little boys</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As ever worried home-folks with their everlasting noise!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Egad! and, were we so disposed, I’ll venture we could show</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The scars of wallopings we got some forty years ago;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What wallopings I mean I think I need not specify—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mother’s whippings didn’t hurt, but father’s! oh, my!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The way that we played hookey those many years ago—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">We’d rather give ’most anything than have our children know!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The thousand naughty things we did, the thousand fibs we told—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why, thinking of them makes my Presbyterian blood run cold!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">How often Deacon Sabine Morse remarked if we were his</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He’d tan our “pesky little hides until the blisters riz”!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s many a hearty thrashing to that Deacon Morse we owe—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mother’s whippings didn’t count—father’s did, though!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">We used to sneak off swimmin’ in those careless, boyish days,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And come back home of evenings with our necks and backs ablaze;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">How mother used to wonder why our clothes were full of sand,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But father, having been a boy, appeared to understand.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, after tea, he’d beckon us to join him in the shed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where he’d proceed to tinge our backs a deeper, darker red;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Say what we will of mother’s, there is none will controvert</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The proposition that our father’s lickings always hurt!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">For mother was by nature so forgiving and so mild</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That she inclined to spare the rod although she spoiled the child;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And when at last in self-defence she had to whip us, she</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Appeared to feel those whippings a great deal more than we!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But how we bellowed and took on, as if we’d like to die—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Poor mother really thought she hurt, and that’s what made <i>her</i> cry!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then how we youngsters snickered as out the door we slid,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For mother’s whippings never hurt, though father’s always did.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">In after years poor father simmered down to five feet four,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But in our youth he seemed to us in height eight feet or more!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, how we shivered when he quoth in cold, suggestive tone:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“I’ll see you in the woodshed after supper all alone!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, how the legs and arms and dust and trouser buttons flew—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What florid vocalisms marked that vesper interview!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yes, after all this lapse of years, I feelingly assert,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With all respect to mother, it was father’s whippings hurt!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The little boy experiencing that tingling ’neath his vest</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Is often loath to realize that all is for the best;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet, when the boy gets older, he pictures with delight</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The buffetings of childhood—as we do here to-night.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The years, the gracious years, have smoothed and beautified the ways</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That to our little feet seemed all too rugged in the days</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Before you went to selling clothes and I to peddling rimes—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, Harvey, let us sit a while and think upon those times.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_ARMENIAN_MOTHER">THE ARMENIAN MOTHER</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I was a mother, and I weep;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The night is come—the day is sped—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The night of woe profound, for, oh,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My little golden son is dead!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The pretty rose that bloomed anon</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Upon my mother breast, they stole;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They let the dove I nursed with love</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Fly far away—so sped my soul!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">That falcon Death swooped down upon</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My sweet-voiced turtle as he sung;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis hushed and dark where soared the lark,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And so, and so my heart was wrung!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Before my eyes, they sent the hail</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Upon my green pomegranate-tree—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Upon the bough where only now</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A rosy apple bent to me.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">They shook my beauteous almond-tree,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Beating its glorious bloom to death—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They strewed it round upon the ground,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And mocked its fragrant dying breath.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I was a mother, and I weep;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I seek the rose where nestleth none—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">No more is heard the singing bird—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I have no little golden son!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So fall the shadows over me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The blighted garden, lonely nest.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Reach down in love, O God above!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And fold my darling to thy breast.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="HEIGHO_MY_DEARIE">HEIGHO, MY DEARIE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">A moonbeam floateth from the skies,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Whispering: “Heigho, my dearie;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I would spin a web before your eyes—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A beautiful web of silver light</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wherein is many a wondrous sight</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of a radiant garden leagues away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where the softly tinkling lilies sway</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the snow-white lambkins are at play—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Heigho, my dearie!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">A brownie stealeth from the vine,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Singing: “Heigho, my dearie;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And will you hear this song of mine—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A song of the land of murk and mist</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where bideth the bud the dew hath kist?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then let the moonbeam’s web of light</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Be spun before thee silvery white,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I shall sing the livelong night—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Heigho, my dearie!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The night wind speedeth from the sea,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Murmuring: “Heigho, my dearie;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I bring a mariner’s prayer for thee;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So let the moonbeam veil thine eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the brownie sing thee lullabies—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But I shall rock thee to and fro,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Kissing the brow <i>he</i> loveth so.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the prayer shall guard thy bed, I trow—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Heigho, my dearie!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="TO_A_USURPER">TO A USURPER</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Aha! a traitor in the camp,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A rebel strangely bold,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A lisping, laughing, toddling scamp,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Not more than four years old!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">To think that I, who’ve ruled alone</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">So proudly in the past,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Should be ejected from my throne</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">By my own son at last!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He trots his treason to and fro,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As only babies can,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And says he’ll be his mamma’s beau</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When he’s a “gweat, big man”!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">You stingy boy! you’ve always had</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A share in mamma’s heart.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Would you begrudge your poor old dad</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The tiniest little part?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">That mamma, I regret to see,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Inclines to take your part,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As if a dual monarchy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Should rule her gentle heart!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But when the years of youth have sped,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The bearded man, I trow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Will quite forget he ever said</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He’d be his mamma’s beau.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Renounce your treason, little son,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Leave mamma’s heart to me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For there will come another one</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To claim your loyalty.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And when that other comes to you,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">God grant her love may shine</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Through all your life, as fair and true</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As mamma’s does through mine!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_BELL-FLOWER_TREE">THE BELL-FLOWER TREE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When Brother Bill and I were boys,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">How often in the summer we</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Would seek the shade your branches made,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">O fair and gracious bell-flower tree!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Amid the clover bloom we sat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And looked upon the Holyoke range,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While Fido lay a space away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Thinking our silence very strange.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The woodchuck in the pasture-lot,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Beside his furtive hole elate,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Heard, off beyond the pickerel pond,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The redwing-blackbird chide her mate.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The bumblebee went bustling round,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Pursuing labors never done—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With drone and sting, the greedy thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Begrudged the sweets we lay upon!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Our eyes looked always at the hills—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The Holyoke hills that seemed to stand</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Between us boys and pictured joys</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of conquest in a further land!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, how we coveted the time</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When we should leave this prosy place</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And work our wills beyond those hills,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And meet creation face to face!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">You must have heard our childish talk—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Perhaps our prattle gave you pain;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For then, old friend, you seemed to bend</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Your kindly arms about us twain.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It might have been the wind that sighed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And yet I thought I heard you say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Seek not the ills beyond those hills—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Oh, stay with me, my children, stay!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">See, I’ve come back; the boy you knew</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Is wiser, older, sadder grown;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I come once more, just as of yore—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I come, but see! I come alone!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The memory of a brother’s love,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of blighted hopes, I bring with me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And here I lay my heart to-day—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A weary heart, O bell-flower tree!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So let me nestle in your shade<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As though I were a boy again,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And pray extend your arms, old friend,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And love me as you used to then.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sing softly as you used to sing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And maybe I shall seem to be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A little boy and feel the joy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of thy repose, O bell-flower tree!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="FAIRY_AND_CHILD">FAIRY AND CHILD</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, listen, little Dear-My-Soul,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the fairy voices calling,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the moon is high in the misty sky</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the honey dew is falling;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the midnight feast in the clover bloom</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The bluebells are a-ringing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And it’s “Come away to the land of fay”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That the katydid is singing.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, slumber, little Dear-My-Soul,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And hand in hand we’ll wander—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hand in hand to the beautiful land</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of Balow, away off yonder;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Or we’ll sail along in a lily leaf</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Into the white moon’s halo—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over a stream of mist and dream</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Into the land of Balow.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Or, you shall have two beautiful wings—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Two gossamer wings and airy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And all the while shall the old moon smile</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And think you a little fairy;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And you shall dance in the velvet sky,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the silvery stars shall twinkle</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And dream sweet dreams as over their beams</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Your footfalls softly tinkle.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_GRANDSIRE">THE GRANDSIRE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I loved him so; his voice had grown</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Into my heart, and now to hear</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The pretty song he had sung so long</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Die on the lips to me so dear!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>He</i> a child with golden curls,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And I with head as white as snow—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I knelt down there and made this pray’r:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“God, let me be the first to go!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">How often I recall it now:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My darling tossing on his bed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I sitting there in mute despair,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Smoothing the curls that crowned his head.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They did not speak to me of death—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A feeling <i>here</i> had told me so;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What could I say or do but pray</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That I might be the first to go?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet, thinking of him standing there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Out yonder as the years go by,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Waiting for me to come, I see</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">’Twas better he should wait, not I.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For when I walk the vale of death,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Above the wail of Jordan’s flow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Shall rise a song that shall make me strong—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The call of the child that was first to go.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="HUSHABY_SWEET_MY_OWN">HUSHABY, SWEET MY OWN</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fair is the castle up on the hill—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, sweet my own!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The night is fair, and the waves are still,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the wind is singing to you and to me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In this lowly home beside the sea—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, sweet my own!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">On yonder hill is store of wealth—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, sweet my own!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And revellers drink to a little one’s health;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But you and I bide night and day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the other love that has sailed away—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, sweet my own!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">See not, dear eyes, the forms that creep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Ghostlike, O my own!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Out of the mists of the murmuring deep;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, see them not and make no cry</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Till the angels of death have passed us by—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, sweet my own!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, little they reck of you and me—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, sweet my own!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In our lonely home beside the sea;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They seek the castle up on the hill,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And there they will do their ghostly will—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, O my own!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Here by the sea a mother croons</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">“Hushaby, sweet my own!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In yonder castle a mother swoons</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While the angels go down to the misty deep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bearing a little one fast asleep—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Hushaby, sweet my own!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHILD_AND_MOTHER">CHILD AND MOTHER</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">O Mother-My-Love, if you’ll give me your hand,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And go where I ask you to wander,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I will lead you away to a beautiful land—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">We’ll walk in a sweet-posie garden out there</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where moonlight and starlight are streaming</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the flowers and the birds are filling the air</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With the fragrance and music of dreaming.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There’ll be no little tired-out boy to undress,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">No questions or cares to perplex you;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There’ll be no little bruises or bumps to caress,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Nor patching of stockings to vex you.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For I’ll rock you away on a silver-dew stream,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And sing you asleep when you’re weary,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And no one shall know of our beautiful dream</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But you and your own little dearie.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And when I am tired I’ll nestle my head<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the bosom that’s soothed me so often,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the wide-awake stars shall sing in my stead</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A song which our dreaming shall soften.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, Mother-My-Love, let me take your dear hand,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And away through the starlight we’ll wander—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Away through the mist to the beautiful land—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="MEDIEVAL_EVENTIDE_SONG">MEDIEVAL EVENTIDE SONG</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Come hither, lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And yonder sings ye angell as onely angells may,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">To them that have no lyttel childe Godde sometimes sendeth down</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A lyttel childe that ben a lyttel angell of his owne;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And if so bee they love that childe, he willeth it to staye,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But elsewise, in his mercie, he taketh it awaye.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sometimes, though they love it, Godde yearneth for ye childe,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sendeth angells singing, whereby it ben beguiled;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They fold their arms about ye lamb that croodleth at his play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And beare him to ye garden that bloometh farre awaye.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I wolde not lose ye lyttel lamb that Godde hath lent to me;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">If I colde sing that angell songe, how joysome I sholde be!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, with mine arms about him, and my musick in his eare,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What angell songe of paradize soever sholde I feare?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Soe come, my lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And yonder sings that angell, as onely angells may,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_LITTLE_PEACH">THE LITTLE PEACH</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little peach in the orchard grew,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A little peach of emerald hue;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">It grew.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">One day, passing that orchard through,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That little peach dawned on the view</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of Johnny Jones and his Sister Sue—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Them two.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Up at that peach a club they threw—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Down from the stem on which it grew</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fell that peach of emerald hue.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Mon Dieu!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">John took a bite and Sue a chew,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And then the trouble began to brew,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Trouble the doctor couldn’t subdue.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Too true!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Under the turf where the daisies grew<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They planted John and his Sister Sue,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And their little souls to the angels flew,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Boo hoo!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">What of that peach of the emerald hue,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Warmed by the sun, and wet by the dew?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, well, its mission on earth is through.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Adieu!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="i096" style="max-width: 57.8125em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i096.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>The Little Peach</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="ARMENIAN_LULLABY">ARMENIAN LULLABY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">If thou wilt shut thy drowsy eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My mulberry one, my golden sun!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The rose shall sing thee lullabies,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My pretty cosset lambkin!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And thou shalt swing in an almond-tree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With a flood of moonbeams rocking thee—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A silver boat in a golden sea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My velvet love, my nestling dove,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">My own pomegranate blossom!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The stork shall guard thee passing well</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All night, my sweet! my dimple-feet!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And bring thee myrrh and asphodel,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My gentle rain-of-springtime!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And for thy slumbrous play shall twine</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The diamond stars with an emerald vine</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To trail in the waves of ruby wine,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My myrtle bloom, my heart’s perfume,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">My little chirping sparrow!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And when the morn wakes up to see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My apple bright, my soul’s delight!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The partridge shall come calling thee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My jar of milk-and-honey!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yes, thou shalt know what mystery lies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the amethyst deep of the curtained skies,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">If thou wilt fold thy onyx eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You wakeful one, you naughty son,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">You cooing little turtle!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHRISTMAS_TREASURES">CHRISTMAS TREASURES</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I count my treasures o’er with care,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The little toy my darling knew,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A little sock of faded hue,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A little lock of golden hair.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Long years ago this holy time,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My little one—my all to me—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Sat robed in white upon my knee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And heard the merry Christmas chime.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Tell me, my little golden-head,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">If Santa Claus should come to-night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">What shall he bring my baby bright,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What treasure for my boy?” I said.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And then he named this little toy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">While in his round and mournful eyes</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">There came a look of sweet surprise,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That spake his quiet, trustful joy.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And as he lisped his evening prayer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He asked the boon with childish grace;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Then, toddling to the chimney-place,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He hung this little stocking there.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">That night, while lengthening shadows crept,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I saw the white-winged angels come</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With singing to our lowly home</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And kiss my darling as he slept.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">They must have heard his little prayer,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For in the morn, with rapturous face,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">He toddled to the chimney-place,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And found this little treasure there.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">They came again one Christmas-tide,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That angel host, so fair and white;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And, singing all that glorious night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They lured my darling from my side.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">A little sock, a little toy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A little lock of golden hair,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The Christmas music on the air,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A watching for my baby boy!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But if again that angel train</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And golden-head come back for me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To bear me to Eternity,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">My watching will not be in vain.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="OH_LITTLE_CHILD">OH, LITTLE CHILD</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hush, little one, and fold your hands—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The sun hath set, the moon is high;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The sea is singing to the sands,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And wakeful posies are beguiled</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">By many a fairy lullaby—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Hush, little child—my little child!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dream, little one, and in your dreams</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Float upward from this lowly place—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Float out on mellow, misty streams</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">To lands where bideth Mary mild,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And let her kiss thy little face,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">You little child—my little child!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sleep, little one, and take thy rest—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With angels bending over thee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sleep sweetly on that Father’s breast</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Whom our dear Christ hath reconciled—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But stay not there—come back to me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Oh, little child—<i>my</i> little child!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="GANDERFEATHERS_GIFT">GANDERFEATHER’S GIFT</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I was just a little thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When a fairy came and kissed me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Floating in upon the light</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of a haunted summer night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Lo, the fairies came to sing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pretty slumber songs and bring</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Certain boons that else had missed me.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From a dream I turned to see</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What those strangers brought for me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When that fairy up and kissed me—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Here, upon this cheek, he kissed me!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Simmerdew was there, but she</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Did not like me altogether;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Daisybright and Turtledove,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Pilfercurds and Honeylove,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Thistleblow and Amberglee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">On that gleaming, ghostly sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Floated from the misty heather,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And around my trundle-bed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Frisked, and looked, and whispering said—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Solemnlike and all together:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“<i>You</i> shall kiss him, Ganderfeather!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ganderfeather kissed me then—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ganderfeather, quaint and merry!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">No attenuate sprite was he,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">—But as buxom as could be;—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Kissed me twice, and once again,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the others shouted when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">On my cheek uprose a berry</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Somewhat like a mole, mayhap,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the kiss-mark of that chap</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ganderfeather, passing merry—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Humorsome, but kindly, very!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I was just a tiny thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When the prankish Ganderfeather</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Brought this curious gift to me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With his fairy kisses three;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet with honest pride I sing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That same gift he chose to bring</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Out of yonder haunted heather.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Other charms and friendships fly—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Constant friends this mole and I,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Who have been so long together.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Thank you, little Ganderfeather!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="BAMBINO">BAMBINO</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bambino in his cradle slept;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And by his side his grandam grim</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bent down and smiled upon the child,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And sung this lullaby to him,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">This “ninna and anninia”:</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“When thou art older, thou shalt mind</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To traverse countries far and wide,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And thou shalt go where roses blow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And balmy waters singing glide—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">So ninna and anninia!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“And thou shalt wear, trimmed up in points,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A famous jacket edged in red,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, more than that, a peakèd hat,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All decked in gold, upon thy head—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Ah! ninna and anninia!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Then shalt thou carry gun and knife,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Nor shall the soldiers bully thee;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Perchance, beset by wrong or debt,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A mighty bandit thou shalt be—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">So ninna and anninia!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“No woman yet of our proud race<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Lived to her fourteenth year unwed;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The brazen churl that eyed a girl</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Bought her the ring or paid his head—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">So ninna and anninia!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“But once came spies (I know the thieves!)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And brought disaster to our race;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">God heard us when our fifteen men</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Were hanged within the market-place—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">But ninna and anninia!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Good men they were, my babe, and true,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Right worthy fellows all, and strong;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Live thou and be for them and me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Avenger of that deadly wrong—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">So ninna and anninia!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITTLE_HOMERS_SLATE">LITTLE HOMER’S SLATE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">After dear old grandma died,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Hunting through an oaken chest</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the attic, we espied</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">What repaid our childish quest;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twas a homely little slate,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Seemingly of ancient date.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">On its quaint and battered face</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Was the picture of a cart,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Drawn with all that awkward grace</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Which betokens childish art;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But what meant this legend, pray:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Homer drew this yesterday”?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mother recollected then</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">What the years were fain to hide—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She was but a baby when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Little Homer lived and died;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Forty years, so mother said,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Homer had been dead.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">This one secret through those years<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Grandma kept from all apart,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hallowed by her lonely tears</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the breaking of her heart;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While each year that sped away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Seemed to her but yesterday.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So the homely little slate</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Grandma’s baby’s fingers pressed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To a memory consecrate,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Lieth in the oaken chest,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where, unwilling we should know,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Grandma put it, years ago.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_ROCK-A-BY_LADY">THE ROCK-A-BY LADY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Comes stealing; comes creeping;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">When she findeth you sleeping!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There is one little dream of a beautiful drum—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“Rub-a-dub!” it goeth;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There is one little dream of a big sugar-plum,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And lo! thick and fast the other dreams come</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of popguns that bang, and tin tops that hum,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And a trumpet that bloweth!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And dollies peep out of those wee little dreams</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">With laughter and singing;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And boats go a-floating on silvery streams,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the stars peek-a-boo with their own misty gleams,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And up, up, and up, where the Mother Moon beams,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The fairies go winging!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Would you dream all these dreams that are tiny and fleet?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">They’ll come to you sleeping;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So shut the two eyes that are weary, my sweet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With poppies that hang from her head to her feet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Comes stealing; comes creeping.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="BOOH">“BOOH!”</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">On afternoons, when baby boy has had a splendid nap,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse’s lap,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In some such wise my handkerchief I hold before my face,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And cautiously and quietly I move about the place;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then, with a cry, I suddenly expose my face to view,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And you should hear him laugh and crow when I say “Booh!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes the rascal tries to make believe that he is scared,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And really, when I first began, he stared, and stared, and stared;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And then his under lip came out and farther out it came,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Till mamma and the nurse agreed it was a “cruel shame”—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But now what does that same wee, toddling, lisping baby do</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But laugh and kick his little heels when I say “Booh!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He laughs and kicks his little heels in rapturous glee, and then</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In shrill, despotic treble bids me “do it all aden!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I—of course I do it; for, as his progenitor,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It is such pretty, pleasant play as this that I am for!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And it is, oh, such fun! and I am sure that we shall rue</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The time when we are both too old to play the game of “Booh!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="GARDEN_AND_CRADLE">GARDEN AND CRADLE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When our babe he goeth walking in his garden,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The posies they are good to him,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And bow them as they should to him,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As fareth he upon his kingly way;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And birdlings of the wood to him</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Make music, gentle music, all the day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When our babe he goeth walking in his garden.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Then the night it looketh ever sweetly down;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The little stars are kind to him,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The moon she hath a mind to him</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And layeth on his head a golden crown;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And singeth then the wind to him</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A song, the gentle song of Bethlem-town,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When our babe he goeth swinging in his cradle.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_NIGHT_WIND">THE NIGHT WIND</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Have you ever heard the wind go “Yooooo”?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">’Tis a pitiful sound to hear!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It seems to chill you through and through</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With a strange and speechless fear.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis the voice of the night that broods outside</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When folk should be asleep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And many and many’s the time I’ve cried</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the darkness brooding far and wide</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Over the land and the deep:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Whom do you want, O lonely night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That you wail the long hours through?”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the night would say in its ghostly way:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">“Yoooooooo!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">Yoooooooo!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">Yoooooooo!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">My mother told me long ago</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">(When I was a little tad)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That when the night went wailing so,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Somebody had been bad;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And then, when I was snug in bed,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Whither I had been sent,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With the blankets pulled up round my head,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’d think of what my mother’d said,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And wonder what boy she meant!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And “Who’s been bad to-day?” I’d ask</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of the wind that hoarsely blew,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the voice would say in its meaningful way</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">“Yoooooooo!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">Yoooooooo!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">Yoooooooo!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">That this was true I must allow—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You’ll not believe it, though!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yes, though I’m quite a model now,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I was not always so.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And if you doubt what things I say,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Suppose you make the test;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Suppose, when you’ve been bad some day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And up to bed are sent away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">From mother and the rest—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Suppose you ask, “Who has been bad?”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And then you’ll hear what’s true;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the wind will moan in its ruefulest tone:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">“Yoooooooo!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">Yoooooooo!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent14">Yoooooooo!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="KISSING_TIME">KISSING TIME</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis when the lark goes soaring</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the bee is at the bud,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When lightly dancing zephyrs</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Sing over field and flood;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When all sweet things in nature</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Seem joyfully achime—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis then I wake my darling,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For it is kissing time!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Go, pretty lark, a-soaring,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And suck your sweets, O bee;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sing, O ye winds of summer,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Your songs to mine and me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For with your song and rapture</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Cometh the moment when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s half-past kissing time</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And time to kiss again!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So—so the days go fleeting</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Like golden fancies free,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And every day that cometh</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Is full of sweets for me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sweetest are those moments<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My darling comes to climb</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Into my lap to mind me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That it is kissing time.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes, maybe, he wanders</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A heedless, aimless way—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes, maybe, he loiters</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In pretty, prattling play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But presently bethinks him</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And hastens to me then,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For it’s half-past kissing time</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And time to kiss again!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="JEST_FORE_CHRISTMAS">JEST ’FORE CHRISTMAS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mighty glad I ain’t a girl—ruther be a boy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Without them sashes, curls, an’ things that’s worn by Fauntleroy!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Love to chawnk green apples an’ go swimmin’ in the lake—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-ache!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain’t no flies on me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But jest ’fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">First thing she knows she doesn’t know where she is at!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Got a clipper sled, an’ when us kids goes out to slide,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Long comes the grocery cart, an’ we all hook a ride!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an’ cross,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He reaches at us with his whip, an’ larrups up his hoss,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ then I laff an’ holler, “Oh, ye never teched <i>me</i>!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But jest ’fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Gran’ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As was et up by the cannibuls that lives in Ceylon’s Isle,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where every prospeck pleases, an’ only man is vile!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But gran’ma she has never been to see a Wild West show,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nor read the Life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she’d know</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That Buff’lo Bill an’ cow-boys is good enough for me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>Excep’</i> jest ’fore Christmas, when I’m good as I kin be!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like an’ still,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His eyes they seem a-sayin’: “What’s the matter, little Bill?”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The old cat sneaks down off her perch an’ wonders what’s become</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But I am so perlite an’ ’tend so earnestly to biz,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That mother says to father: “How improved our Willie is!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But father, havin’ been a boy hisself, suspicions me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When, jest ’fore Christmas, I’m as good as I kin be!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">For Christmas, with its lots an’ lots of candies, cakes, an’ toys,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Was made, they say, for proper kids, an’ not for naughty boys;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So wash yer face an’ bresh yer hair, an’ mind yer p’s and q’s,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ don’t bust out yer pantaloons, and don’t wear out yer shoes;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Say “Yessum” to the ladies, an’ “Yessur” to the men,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ when they’s company, don’t pass yer plate for pie again;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, thinkin’ of the things yer ’d like to see upon that tree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Jest ’fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="BEARD_AND_BABY">BEARD AND BABY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I say, as one who never feared</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The wrath of a subscriber’s bullet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I pity him who has a beard</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But has no little girl to pull it!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When wife and I have finished tea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Our baby woos me with her prattle,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, perching proudly on my knee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">She gives my petted whiskers battle.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">With both her hands she tugs away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">While scolding at me kind o’ spiteful;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You’ll not believe me when I say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I find the torture quite delightful!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">No other would presume, I ween,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To trifle with this hirsute wonder,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Else would I rise in vengeful mien</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And rend his vandal frame asunder!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But when <i>her</i> baby fingers pull<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">This glossy, sleek, and silky treasure,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">My cup of happiness is full—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I fairly glow with pride and pleasure!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, sweeter still, through all the day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I seem to hear her winsome prattle—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I seem to feel her hands at play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As though they gave me sportive battle.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yes, heavenly music seems to steal</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where thought of her forever lingers,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And round my heart I always feel</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The twining of her dimpled fingers!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DINKEY-BIRD">THE DINKEY-BIRD</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">In an ocean, ’way out yonder</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">(As all sapient people know),</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Is the land of Wonder-Wander,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Whither children love to go;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s their playing, romping, swinging,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That give great joy to me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the amfalula tree!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There the gum-drops grow like cherries,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And taffy’s thick as peas—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Caramels you pick like berries</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When, and where, and how you please;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Big red sugar-plums are clinging</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the cliffs beside that sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the amfalula tree.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So when children shout and scamper</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And make merry all the day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When there’s naught to put a damper</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the ardor of their play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When I hear their laughter ringing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Then I’m sure as sure can be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That the Dinkey-Bird is singing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the amfalula tree.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the Dinkey-Bird’s bravuras</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And staccatos are so sweet—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His roulades, appoggiaturas,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And robustos so complete,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That the youth of every nation—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Be they near or far away—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Have especial delectation</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In that gladsome roundelay.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Their eyes grow bright and brighter</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Their lungs begin to crow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Their hearts get light and lighter,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And their cheeks are all aglow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For an echo cometh bringing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The news to all and me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That the Dinkey-Bird is singing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the amfalula tree.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’m sure you like to go there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To see your feathered friend—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And so many goodies grow there</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You would like to comprehend!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>Speed, little dreams, your winging</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2"><i>To that land across the sea</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2"><i>In the amfalula tree!</i></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp54" id="i120" style="max-width: 57.8125em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i120.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>The Dinkey-bird</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DRUM">THE DRUM</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’m a beautiful red, red drum,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And I train with the soldier boys;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As up the street we come,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Wonderful is our noise!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There’s Tom, and Jim, and Phil,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And Dick, and Nat, and Fred,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While Widow Cutler’s Bill</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And I march on ahead,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With a r-r-rat-tat-tat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, there’s bushels of fun in that</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For boys with a little red drum!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Injuns came last night</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">While the soldiers were abed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And they gobbled a Chinese kite</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And off to the woods they fled!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The woods are the cherry-trees</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Down in the orchard lot,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the soldiers are marching to seize</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The booty the Injuns got.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With tum-titty-um-tum-tum,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And r-r-rat-tat-tat,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When soldiers marching come</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Injuns had better scat!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Step up there, little Fred,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And, Charley, have a mind!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Jim is as far ahead</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As you two are behind!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ready with gun and sword</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Your valorous work to do—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yonder the Injun horde</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Are lying in wait for you.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And their hearts go pitapat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When they hear the soldiers come</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With a r-r-rat-tat-tat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Course it’s all in play!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The skulking Injun crew</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That hustled the kite away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Are little white boys, like you!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But “honest” or “just in fun,”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">It is all the same to me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, when the battle is won,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Home once again march we</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With a r-r-rat-tat-tat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And tum-titty-um-tum-tum;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And there’s glory enough in that</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For the boys with their little red drum!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DEAD_BABE">THE DEAD BABE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In agony I knelt and said:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">“O God! what have I done,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Or in what wise offended Thee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That Thou shouldst take away from me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">My little son?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Upon the thousand useless lives,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Upon the guilt that vaunting thrives,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Thy wrath were better spent!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why shouldst Thou take my little son—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why shouldst Thou vent Thy wrath upon</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">This innocent?”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Before mine eyes the vision spread</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Of things that <i>might</i> have been:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Licentious riot, cruel strife,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Forgotten prayers, a wasted life</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Dark red with sin!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then, with sweet music in the air,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I saw another vision there:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">A Shepherd in whose keep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A little lamb—my little child!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of worldly wisdom undefiled,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Lay fast asleep!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In those two messages I read</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">A wisdom manifest;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And though my arms be childless now,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I am content—to Him I bow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Who knoweth best.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_HAPPY_HOUSEHOLD">THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then it’s sleep no more for baby, and it’s sleep no more for me,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, when he wants his dinner, why it’s dinner it must be!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great ado.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">While gran’ma laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And gran’pa laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And wife, she laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And I—well, <i>I</i> laugh, <i>too</i>!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">You’d think, to see us carrying on about that little tad,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That, like as not, that baby was the first we’d ever had;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, sakes alive! he isn’t, yet we people make a fuss</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As if the only baby in the world had come to <i>us</i>!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, morning, noon, and night-time, whatever he may do,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Gran’ma, she laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Gran’pa, he laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Wife, she laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And <i>I</i>, of course, laugh, too!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But once—a likely spell ago—when that poor little chick<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From teething or from some such ill of infancy fell sick,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You wouldn’t know us people as the same that went about</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A-feelin’ good all over, just to hear him crow and shout;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, though the doctor poohed our fears and said he’d pull him through,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Old gran’ma cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And gran’pa cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And wife, she cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And I—yes, <i>I</i> cried, <i>too</i>!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">It makes us all feel good to have a baby on the place,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With his everlastin’ crowing and his dimpling, dumpling face;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The patter of his pinky feet makes music everywhere,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And when he shakes those fists of his, good-by to every care!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">No matter <i>what</i> our trouble is, when <i>he</i> begins to <i>coo</i>,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Old gran’ma laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And gran’pa laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">Wife, she laughs,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent12">And I—you bet, <i>I</i> laugh, <i>too</i>!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="SO_SO_ROCK-A-BY_SO">SO, SO, ROCK-A-BY SO!</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, so, rock-a-by so!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Off to the garden where dreamikins grow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And here is a kiss on your winkyblink eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And here is a kiss on your dimpledown cheek</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And here is a kiss for the treasure that lies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the beautiful garden way up in the skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Which you seek.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now mind these three kisses wherever you go—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, so, rock-a-by so!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There’s one little fumfay who lives there, I know,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For he dances all night where the dreamikins grow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I send him this kiss on your droopydrop eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I send him this kiss on your rosyred cheek.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And here is a kiss for the dream that shall rise</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When the fumfay shall dance in those far-away skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Which you seek.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Be sure that you pay those three kisses you owe—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, so, rock-a-by so!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, by-low, as you rock-a-by go,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Don’t forget mother who loveth you so!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And here is her kiss on your weepydeep eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And here is her kiss on your peachypink cheek,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And here is her kiss for the dreamland that lies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Like a babe on the breast of those far-away skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Which you seek—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The blinkywink garden where dreamikins grow—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So, so, rock-a-by so!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SONG_OF_LUDDY-DUD">THE SONG OF LUDDY-DUD</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">A sunbeam comes a-creeping</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Into my dear one’s nest,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sings to our babe a-sleeping,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The song that I love the best:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">“’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">And all day long</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">’Tis the same sweet song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of that waddling, toddling, coddling little mite, Luddy-Dud.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The bird to the tossing clover,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The bee to the swaying bud,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Keep singing that sweet song over</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of wee little Luddy-Dud.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">“’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">And all day long</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">’Tis the same dear song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of that growing, crowing, knowing little sprite, Luddy-Dud!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Luddy-Dud’s cradle is swinging<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where softly the night winds blow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Luddy-Dud’s mother is singing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A song that is sweet and low:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">“’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">And all day long</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">’Tis the same sweet song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of my nearest and my dearest heart’s delight, Luddy-Dud!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DUEL">THE DUEL</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The gingham dog and the calico cat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Side by side on the table sat;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twas half-past twelve, and (what do you think!)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nor one nor t’other had slept a wink!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Appeared to know as sure as fate</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There was going to be a terrible spat.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">(<i>I wasn’t there; I simply state</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>What was told to me by the Chinese plate!</i>)</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The gingham dog went “bow-wow-wow!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the calico cat replied “mee-ow!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The air was littered, an hour or so,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With bits of gingham and calico,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">While the old Dutch clock in the chimney-place</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Up with its hands before its face,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For it always dreaded a family row!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">(<i>Now mind: I’m only telling you</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>What the old Dutch clock declares is true!</i>)</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Chinese plate looked very blue,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And wailed, “Oh, dear! what shall we do!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the gingham dog and the calico cat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wallowed this way and tumbled that,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Employing every tooth and claw</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">In the awfullest way you ever saw—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, oh! how the gingham and calico flew!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">(<i>Don’t fancy I exaggerate—</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>I got my news from the Chinese plate!</i>)</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Next morning, where the two had sat</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They found no trace of dog or cat;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And some folks think unto this day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That burglars stole that pair away!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">But the truth about the cat and pup</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Is this: they ate each other up!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now what do you really think of that!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">(<i>The old Dutch clock it told me so,</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>And that is how I came to know.</i>)</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="GOOD-CHILDREN_STREET">GOOD-CHILDREN STREET</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There’s a dear little home in Good-Children street—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My heart turneth fondly to-day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where tinkle of tongues and patter of feet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Make sweetest of music at play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where the sunshine of love illumines each face</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And warms every heart in that old-fashioned place.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">For dear little children go romping about</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With dollies and tin tops and drums,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, my! how they frolic and scamper and shout</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Till bedtime too speedily comes!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, days they are golden and days they are fleet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With little folk living in Good-Children street.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">See, here comes an army with guns painted red,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And swords, caps, and plumes of all sorts;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The captain rides gayly and proudly ahead</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">On a stick-horse that prances and snorts!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, legions of soldiers you’re certain to meet—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nice make-believe soldiers—in Good-Children street.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And yonder Odette wheels her dolly about—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Poor dolly! I’m sure she is ill,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For one of her blue china eyes has dropped out</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And her voice is asthmatic’ly shrill.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then, too, I observe she is minus her feet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Which causes much sorrow in Good-Children street.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis so the dear children go romping about</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With dollies and banners and drums,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I venture to say they are sadly put out</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When an end to their jubilee comes:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, days they are golden and days they are fleet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With little folk living in Good-Children street!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But when falleth night over river and town,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Those little folk vanish from sight,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And an angel all white from the sky cometh down</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And guardeth the babes through the night,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And singeth her lullabies tender and sweet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the dear little people in Good-Children street.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Though elsewhere the world be o’erburdened with care,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Though poverty fall to my lot,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Though toil and vexation be always my share,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">What care I—they trouble me not!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>This</i> thought maketh life ever joyous and sweet:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There’s a dear little home in Good-Children street.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DELECTABLE_BALLAD">THE DELECTABLE BALLAD
+OF THE WALLER LOT</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Up yonder in Buena Park</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">There is a famous spot,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In legend and in history</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Yclept the Waller Lot.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There children play in daytime</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And lovers stroll by dark,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For ’tis the goodliest trysting-place</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In all Buena Park.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Once on a time that beauteous maid,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Sweet little Sissy Knott,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Took out her pretty doll to walk</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Within the Waller Lot.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">While thus she fared, from Ravenswood</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Came Injuns o’er the plain,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And seized upon that beauteous maid</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And rent her doll in twain.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, ’twas a piteous thing to hear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Her lamentations wild;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She tore her golden curls and cried:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“My child! My child! My child!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Alas, what cared those Injun chiefs</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">How bitterly wailed she?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They never had been mothers,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And they could not hope to be!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Have done with tears,” they rudely quoth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And then they bound her hands;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For they proposed to take her off</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To distant border lands.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, joy! from Mr. Eddy’s barn</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Doth Willie Clow behold</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The sight that makes his hair rise up</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And all his blood run cold.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He put his fingers in his mouth</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And whistled long and clear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And presently a goodly horde</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of cow-boys did appear.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cried Willie Clow: “My comrades bold,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Haste to the Waller Lot,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And rescue from that Injun band</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Our charming Sissy Knott!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Spare neither Injun buck nor squaw,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But smite them hide and hair!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Spare neither sex nor age nor size,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And no condition spare!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then sped that cow-boy band away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Full of revengeful wrath,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Kendall Evans rode ahead</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Upon a hickory lath.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And next came gallant Dady Field</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And Willie’s brother Kent,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Eddy boys and Robbie James,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">On murderous purpose bent.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">For they were much beholden to</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That maid—in sooth, the lot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Were very, very much in love</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With charming Sissy Knott.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">What wonder? She was beauty’s queen,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And good beyond compare;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Moreover, it was known she was</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Her wealthy father’s heir!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now when the Injuns saw that band</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">They trembled with affright,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And yet they thought the cheapest thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To do was stay and fight.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So sturdily they stood their ground,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Nor would their prisoner yield,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Despite the wrath of Willie Clow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And gallant Dady Field.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, never fiercer battle raged</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Upon the Waller Lot,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And never blood more freely flowed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Than flowed for Sissy Knott!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">An Injun chief of monstrous size</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Got Kendall Evans down,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Robbie James was soon o’erthrown</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">By one of great renown.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Dady Field was sorely done,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And Willie Clow was hurt,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And all that gallant cow-boy band</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Lay wallowing in the dirt.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But still they strove with might and main</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Till all the Waller Lot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Was strewn with hair and gouts of gore—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All, all for Sissy Knott!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then cried the maiden in despair:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Alas, I sadly fear</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The battle and my hopes are lost,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Unless some help appear!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Lo, as she spoke, she saw afar<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The rescuer looming up—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The pride of all Buena Park,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Clow’s famous yellow pup!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Now, sick ’em, Don,” the maiden cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Now, sick ’em, Don!” cried she;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Obedient Don at once complied—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As ordered, so did he.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He sicked ’em all so passing well</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That, overcome by fright,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Indian horde gave up the fray</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And safety sought in flight.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">They ran and ran and ran and ran</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">O’er valley, plain, and hill;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And if they are not walking now,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Why, then, they’re running still.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The cow-boys rose up from the dust</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With faces black and blue;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Remember, beauteous maid,” said they,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“We’ve bled and died for you!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“And though we suffer grievously,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">We gladly hail the lot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That brings us toils and pains and wounds</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For charming Sissy Knott!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But Sissy Knott still wailed and wept,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And still her fate reviled;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For who could patch her dolly up—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Who, who could mend her child?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then out her doting mother came,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And soothed her daughter then;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Grieve not, my darling, I will sew</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Your dolly up again!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Joy soon succeeded unto grief,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And tears were soon dried up,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And dignities were heaped upon</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Clow’s noble yellow pup.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Him all that goodly company</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Did as deliverer hail—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They tied a ribbon round his neck,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Another round his tail.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And every anniversary day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Upon the Waller Lot</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They celebrate the victory won</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For charming Sissy Knott.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I, the poet of these folk,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Am ordered to compile</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">This truly famous history</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In good old ballad style.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Which having done as to have earned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The sweet rewards of fame,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In what same style I did begin</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I now shall end the same.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So let us sing: Long live the King,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Long live the Queen and Jack,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Long live the ten-spot and the ace,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And also all the pack.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_FLY-AWAY_HORSE">THE FLY-AWAY HORSE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Perhaps you have seen him before;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Perhaps, while you slept, his shadow has swept</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Through the moonlight that floats on the floor.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For it’s only at night, when the stars twinkle bright,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That the Fly-Away Horse, with a neigh</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And a pull at his rein and a toss of his mane,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Is up on his heels and away!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">The Moon in the sky,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">As he gallopeth by,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Cries: “Oh! what a marvellous sight!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">And the Stars in dismay</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Hide their faces away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">In the lap of old Grandmother Night.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">It is yonder, out yonder, the Fly-Away Horse</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Speedeth ever and ever away—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over meadows and lanes, over mountains and plains,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Over streamlets that sing at their play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And over the sea like a ghost sweepeth he,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">While the ships they go sailing below,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And he speedeth so fast that the men at the mast</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Adjudge him some portent of woe.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“What ho there!” they cry,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">As he flourishes by</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">With a whisk of his beautiful tail;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">And the fish in the sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Are as scared as can be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">From the nautilus up to the whale!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You little folk dream of at night—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where candy-trees grow, and honey-brooks flow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And corn-fields with popcorn are white;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the beasts in the wood are ever so good</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To children who visit them there—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What glory astride of a lion to ride,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Or to wrestle around with a bear!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">The monkeys, they say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“Come on, let us play,”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And they frisk in the cocoanut-trees:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">While the parrots, that cling</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">To the peanut-vines, sing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Or converse with comparative ease!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Off! scamper to bed—you shall ride him to-night!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For, as soon as you’ve fallen asleep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With a jubilant neigh he shall bear you away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Over forest and hillside and deep!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But tell us, my dear, all you see and you hear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In those beautiful lands over there,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where the Fly-Away Horse wings his far-away course</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With the wee one consigned to his care.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Then grandma will cry</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">In amazement: “Oh, my!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">And she’ll think it could never be so;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">And only we two</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Shall know it is true—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">You and I, little precious! shall know!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp56" id="i144" style="max-width: 60.9375em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i144.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>The Fly-away Horse</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_STORK">THE STORK</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night the Stork came stalking,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And, Stork, beneath your wing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Lay, lapped in dreamless slumber,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The tiniest little thing!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From Babyland, out yonder</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Beside a silver sea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You brought a priceless treasure</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As gift to mine and me!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night my dear one listened—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And, wife, you knew the cry—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The dear old Stork has sought our home</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A many times gone by!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And in your gentle bosom</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I found the pretty thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That from the realm out yonder</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Our friend the Stork did bring.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night a babe awakened,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And, babe, how strange and new</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Must seem the home and people</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The Stork has brought you to;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And yet methinks you like them—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You neither stare nor weep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But closer to my dear one</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You cuddle, and you sleep!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Last night my heart grew fonder—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">O happy heart of mine,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sing of the inspirations</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That round my pathway shine!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sing your sweetest love-song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To this dear nestling wee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Stork from ’Way-Out-Yonder</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Hath brought to mine and me!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_BOTTLE_TREE">THE BOTTLE TREE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A snug little berth in that ship I demand</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Where the Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And reacheth its fruit to each wee, dimpled hand;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You take of that fruit as much as you list,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For colic’s a nuisance that doesn’t exist!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho for Winkyway land!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And Bottle-Tree fruit (as I’ve heard people say)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Makes bellies of Bottle-Tree babies expand—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And that is a trick I would fain understand!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Heigh-ho for a bottle to-day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And heigh-ho for a bottle to-night—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A bottle of milk that is creamy and white!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="GOOGLY-GOO">GOOGLY-GOO</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of mornings, bright and early,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When the lark is on the wing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the robin in the maple</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Hops from her nest to sing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From yonder cheery chamber</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Cometh a mellow coo—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis the sweet, persuasive treble</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of my little Googly-Goo!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The sunbeams hear his music,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And they seek his little bed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And they dance their prettiest dances</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Round his golden curly head:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Schottisches, galops, minuets,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Gavottes and waltzes, too,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dance they unto the music</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of my googling Googly-Goo.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">My heart—my heart it leapeth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To hear that treble tone;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What music like <i>thy</i> music,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My darling and mine own!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And patiently—yes, cheerfully</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I toil the long day through—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">My labor seemeth lightened</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">By the song of Googly-Goo!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I may not see his antics,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Nor kiss his dimpled cheek:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I may not smooth the tresses</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The sunbeams love to seek;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It mattereth not—the echo</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of his sweet, persuasive coo</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Recurreth to remind me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of my little Googly-goo.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And when I come at evening,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I stand without the door</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And patiently I listen</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For that dear sound once more;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And oftentimes I wonder,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Oh, God! what should I do</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">If any ill should happen</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To my little Googly-Goo!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then in affright I call him—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I hear his gleeful shouts!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Begone, ye dread forebodings—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Begone, ye killing doubts!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, with my arms about him,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">My heart warms through and through</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With the oogling and the googling</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of my little Googly-Goo!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_BENCH-LEGGED_FYCE">THE BENCH-LEGGED FYCE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Speakin’ of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hed most o’ the virtues, an’ nary a vice.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Some folks called him Sooner, a name that arose</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From his predisposition to chronic repose;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But, rouse his ambition, he couldn’t be beat—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yer bet yer he got thar on all his four feet!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mos’ dorgs hez some forte—like huntin’ an’ such,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the sports o’ the field didn’t bother <i>him</i> much;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wuz just a plain dorg, an’ contented to be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">On peaceable terms with the neighbors an’ me;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Used to fiddle an’ squirm, and grunt “Oh, how nice!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When I tickled the back of that bench-legged fyce!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He wuz long in the bar’l, like a fyce oughter be;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His color wuz yaller as ever you see;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His tail, curlin’ upward, wuz long, loose, an’ slim—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When he didn’t wag <i>it</i>, why, the tail it wagged <i>him</i>!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His legs wuz so crooked, my bench-legged pup</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Wuz as tall settin’ down as he wuz standin’ up!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He’d lie by the stove of a night an’ regret<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The various vittles an’ things he had et;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When a stranger, most likely a tramp, come along,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He’d lift up his voice in significant song—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You wondered, by gum! how there ever wuz space</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In that bosom o’ his’n to hold so much bass!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of daytimes he’d sneak to the road an’ lie down,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ tackle the country dorgs comin’ to town;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">By common consent he wuz boss in St. Joe,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For what he took hold of he never let go!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ a dude that come courtin’ our girl left a slice</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of his white flannel suit with our bench-legged fyce!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He wuz good to us kids—when we pulled at his fur</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Or twisted his tail he would never demur;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He seemed to enjoy all our play an’ our chaff,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For his tongue ’u’d hang out an’ he’d laff an’ he’d laff;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ once, when the Hobart boy fell through the ice,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He wuz drug clean ashore by that bench-legged fyce!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">We all hev our choice, an’ you, like the rest,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Allow that the dorg which you’ve got is the best;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I wouldn’t give much for the boy ’at grows up</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With no friendship subsistin’ ’tween him an’ a pup!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When a fellow gits old—I tell you it’s nice</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To think of his youth and his bench-legged fyce!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">To think of the springtime ’way back in St. Joe—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of the peach-trees abloom an’ the daisies ablow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To think of the play in the medder an’ grove,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When little legs wrassled an’ little han’s strove;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To think of the loyalty, valor, an’ truth</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of the friendships that hallow the season of youth!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITTLE_MISS_BRAG">LITTLE MISS BRAG</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Miss Brag has much to say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the rich little lady from over the way,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the rich little lady puts out a lip</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As she looks at her own white, dainty slip,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And wishes that <i>she</i> could wear a gown</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As pretty as gingham of faded brown!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For little Miss Brag she lays much stress</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">On the privileges of a gingham dress—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">“Aha,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">Oho!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The rich little lady from over the way</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Has beautiful dolls in vast array;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet she envies the raggedy home-made doll</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She hears our little Miss Brag extol.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the raggedy doll can fear no hurt</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From wet, or heat, or tumble, or dirt!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Her nose is inked, and her mouth is, too,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And one eye’s black and the other’s blue—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">“Aha,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">Oho!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The rich little lady goes out to ride<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With footmen standing up outside,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet wishes that, sometimes, after dark</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>Her</i> father would trundle <i>her</i> in the park;—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That, sometimes, <i>her</i> mother would sing the things</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little Miss Brag says <i>her</i> mother sings</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When through the attic window streams</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The moonlight full of golden dreams—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">“Aha,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">Oho!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yes, little Miss Brag has much to say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the rich little lady from over the way;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And yet who knows but from her heart</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Often the bitter sighs upstart—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Uprise to lose their burn and sting</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the grace of the tongue that loves to sing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Praise of the treasures all its own!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So I’ve come to love that treble tone—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">“Aha,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent18">Oho!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_HUMMING-TOP">THE HUMMING-TOP</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The top it hummeth a sweet, sweet song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To my dear little boy at play—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Merrily singeth all day long,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As it spinneth and spinneth away.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">And my dear little boy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">He laugheth with joy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When he heareth the monotone</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Of that busy thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">That loveth to sing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The song that is all its own.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hold fast the string and wind it tight,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That the song be loud and clear;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now hurl the top with all your might</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Upon the banquette here;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">And straight from the string</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">The joyous thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Boundeth and spinneth along,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">And it whirrs and it chirrs</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">And it birrs and it purrs</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ever its pretty song.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Will ever my dear little boy grow old,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As some have grown before?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Will ever his heart feel faint and cold,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When he heareth the songs of yore?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Will ever this toy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Of my dear little boy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When the years have worn away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Sing sad and low</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Of the long ago,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As it singeth to me to-day?</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LADY_BUTTON-EYES">LADY BUTTON-EYES</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When the busy day is done,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And my weary little one</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Rocketh gently to and fro;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When the night winds softly blow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the crickets in the glen</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Chirp and chirp and chirp again;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When upon the haunted green</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fairies dance around their queen—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then from yonder misty skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Through the murk and mist and gloam,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To our quiet, cosey home,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where to singing, sweet and low,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Rocks a cradle to and fro;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where the clock’s dull monotone</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Telleth of the day that’s done;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where the moonbeams hover o’er</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Playthings sleeping on the floor—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where my weary wee one lies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cometh like a fleeting ghost<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From some distant eerie coast;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Never footfall can you hear</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As that spirit fareth near—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Never whisper, never word</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From that shadow-queen is heard.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In ethereal raiment dight,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From the realm of fay and sprite</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the depth of yonder skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Layeth she her hands upon</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">My dear weary little one,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And those white hands overspread</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Like a veil the curly head,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Seem to fondle and caress</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Every little silken tress;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then she smooths the eyelids down</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over those two eyes of brown—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In such soothing, tender wise</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Dearest, feel upon your brow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That caressing magic now;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the crickets in the glen</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Chirp and chirp and chirp again,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While upon the haunted green<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fairies dance around their queen,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the moonbeams hover o’er</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Playthings sleeping on the floor—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hush, my sweet! from yonder skies</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cometh Lady Button-Eyes!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_RIDE_TO_BUMPVILLE">THE RIDE TO BUMPVILLE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Play that my knee was a calico mare</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Saddled and bridled for Bumpville;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Leap to the back of this steed, if you dare,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And gallop away to Bumpville!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I hope you’ll be sure to sit fast in your seat,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For this calico mare is prodigiously fleet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And many adventures you’re likely to meet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As you journey along to Bumpville.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">This calico mare both gallops and trots</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">While whisking you off to Bumpville;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She paces, she shies, and she stumbles, in spots,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the tortuous road to Bumpville;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And sometimes this strangely mercurial steed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Will suddenly stop and refuse to proceed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Which, all will admit, is vexatious indeed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When one is en route to Bumpville!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">She’s scared of the cars when the engine goes “Toot!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Down by the crossing at Bumpville;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">You’d better look out for that treacherous brute</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Bearing you off to Bumpville!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With a snort she rears up on her hindermost heels,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And executes jigs and Virginia reels—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Words fail to explain how embarrassed one feels</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Dancing so wildly to Bumpville!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s bumpytybump and it’s jiggytyjog,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Journeying on to Bumpville;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s over the hilltop and down through the bog</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You ride on your way to Bumpville;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s rattletybang over boulder and stump,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There are rivers to ford, there are fences to jump,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the corduroy road it goes bumpytybump,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Mile after mile to Bumpville!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Perhaps you’ll observe it’s no easy thing</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Making the journey to Bumpville,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So I think, on the whole, it were prudent to bring</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">An end to this ride to Bumpville;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, though she has uttered no protest or plaint,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The calico mare must be blowing and faint—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What’s more to the point, I’m blowed if I ain’t!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">So play we have got to Bumpville!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_BROOK">THE BROOK</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I looked in the brook and saw a face—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, but a child was I!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There were rushes and willows in that place,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And they clutched at the brook as the brook ran by;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the brook it ran its own sweet way,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As a child doth run in heedless play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And as it ran I heard it say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">“Hasten with me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">To the roistering sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That is wroth with the flame of the morning sky!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I look in the brook and see a face—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Heigh-ho, but the years go by!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The rushes are dead in the old-time place,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the willows I knew when a child was I.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the brook it seemeth to me to say,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As ever it stealeth on its way—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Solemnly now, and not in play:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">“Oh, come with me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">To the slumbrous sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That is gray with the peace of the evening sky!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent4"><i>Heigh-ho, but the years go by—</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent4"><i>I would to God that a child were I!</i></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="PICNIC-TIME">PICNIC-TIME</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s June ag’in, an’ in my soul I feel the fillin’ joy</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That’s sure to come this time o’ year to every little boy;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, every June, the Sunday-schools at picnics may be seen,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where “fields beyont the swellin’ floods stand dressed in livin’ green”;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Where little girls are skeered to death with spiders, bugs, and ants,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ little boys get grass-stains on their go-to-meetin’ pants.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s June ag’in, an’ with it all what happiness is mine—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There’s goin’ to be a picnic, an’ I’m goin’ to jine!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">One year I jined the Baptists, an’ goodness! how it rained!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">(But grampa says that that’s the way “baptizo” is explained.)</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And once I jined the ’Piscopils an’ had a heap o’ fun—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the boss of all the picnics was the Presbyteriun!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They had so many puddin’s, sallids, sandwidges, an’ pies,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That a feller wisht his stummick was as hungry as his eyes!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, yes, the eatin’ Presbyteriuns give yer is so fine</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That when <i>they</i> have a picnic, you bet <i>I’m</i> goin’ to jine!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But at this time the Methodists have special claims on me,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For they’re goin’ to give a picnic on the 21st, D. V.;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Why should a liberal Universalist like me object</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To share the joys of fellowship with every friendly sect?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">However het’rodox their articles of faith elsewise may be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Their doctrine of fried chick’n is a savin’ grace to me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So on the 21st of June, the weather bein’ fine,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">They’re goin’ to give a picnic, and I’m goin’ to jine!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="SHUFFLE-SHOON_AND_AMBER-LOCKS">SHUFFLE-SHOON AND AMBER-LOCKS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sit together, building blocks;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Shuffle-Shoon is old and gray,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Amber-Locks a little child,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">But together at their play</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Age and Youth are reconciled,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And with sympathetic glee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Build their castles fair to see.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“When I grow to be a man”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">(So the wee one’s prattle ran),</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">“I shall build a castle so—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">With a gateway broad and grand;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Here a pretty vine shall grow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">There a soldier guard shall stand;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And the tower shall be so high,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Folks will wonder, by and by!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Shuffle-Shoon quoth: “Yes, I know;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Thus I builded long ago!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Here a gate and there a wall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Here a window, there a door;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Here a steeple wondrous tall</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Riseth ever more and more!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the years have levelled low</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What I builded long ago!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">So they gossip at their play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Heedless of the fleeting day;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">One speaks of the Long Ago</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Where his dead hopes buried lie;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">One with chubby cheeks aglow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Prattleth of the By and By;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Side by side, they build their blocks—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp53" id="i170" style="max-width: 56.25em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i170.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>Shuffle-shoon and Amber-locks</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SHUT-EYE_TRAIN">THE SHUT-EYE TRAIN</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Come, my little one, with me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There are wondrous sights to see</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As the evening shadows fall;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In your pretty cap and gown,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Don’t detain</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">The Shut-Eye train—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And we hear the warning call:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“<i>All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!</i>”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over hill and over plain</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Soon will speed the Shut-Eye train!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Through the blue where bloom the stars</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the Mother Moon looks down</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">We’ll away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">To land of Fay—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent1">Oh, the sights that we shall see there!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Come, my little one, with me there—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Tis a goodly train of cars—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!</i></div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Swifter than a wild bird’s flight,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Through the realms of fleecy light</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">We shall speed and speed away!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Let the Night in envy frown—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">What care we</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">How wroth she be!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the Balow-land above us,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To the Balow-folk who love us,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Let us hasten while we may—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!</i></div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Shut-Eye Town is passing fair—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Golden dreams await us there;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">We shall dream those dreams, my dear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Till the Mother Moon goes down—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">See unfold</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Delights untold!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And in those mysterious places</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">We shall see beloved faces</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And beloved voices hear</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>In the grace of Shut-Eye Town</i>.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Heavy are your eyes, my sweet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Weary are your little feet—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent1">Nestle closer up to me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In your pretty cap and gown;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Don’t detain</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">The Shut-Eye train!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, the sights that we shall see!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0"><i>All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!</i></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITTLE-OH-DEAR">LITTLE-OH-DEAR</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">See, what a wonderful garden is here,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Planted and trimmed for my Little-Oh-Dear!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Posies so gaudy and grass of such brown—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Search ye the country and hunt ye the town</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And never ye’ll meet with a garden so queer</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As this one I’ve made for my Little-Oh-Dear!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Marigolds white and buttercups blue,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Lilies all dabbled with honey and dew,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The cactus that trails over trellis and wall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Roses and pansies and violets—all</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Make proper obeisance and reverent cheer</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When into her garden steps Little-Oh-Dear.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And up at the top of that lavender-tree</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A silver-bird singeth as only can she;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, ever and only, she singeth the song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“I love you—I love you!” the happy day long;—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then the echo—the echo that smiteth me here!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“I love you, I love you,” my Little-Oh-Dear!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The garden may wither, the silver-bird fly—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But what careth my little precious, or I?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From her pathway of flowers that in springtime upstart</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She walketh the tenderer way in my heart</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, oh, it is always the summer-time <i>here</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With that song of “I love you,” my Little-Oh-Dear!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="SWING_HIGH_AND_SWING_LOW">SWING HIGH AND SWING LOW</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent6">Swing high and swing low</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">While the breezes they blow—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s off for a sailor thy father would go;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And it’s here in the harbor, in sight of the sea,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>“Swing high and swing low</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>While the breezes they blow!”</i></div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent6">Swing high and swing low</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">While the breezes they blow—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s oh for the waiting as weary days go!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And it’s oh for the heartache that smiteth me when</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I sing my song over and over again:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>“Swing high and swing low</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>While the breezes they blow!”</i></div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent6">“Swing high and swing low”—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">The sea singeth so,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And it waileth anon in its ebb and its flow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And a sleeper sleeps on to that song of the sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nor recketh he ever of mine or of me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>“Swing high and swing low</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>While the breezes they blow—</i></div>
+ <div class="verse indent6"><i>’Twas off for a sailor thy father would go!”</i></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="WHEN_I_WAS_A_BOY">WHEN I WAS A BOY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Up in the attic where I slept</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When I was a boy, a little boy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In through the lattice the moonlight crept,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bringing a tide of dreams that swept</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the low, red trundle-bed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bathing the tangled curly head,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">While moonbeams played at hide-and-seek</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With the dimples on the sun-browned cheek—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When I was a boy, a little boy!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And oh! the dreams—the dreams I dreamed!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When I was a boy, a little boy!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For the grace that through the lattice streamed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over my folded eyelids seemed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To have the gift of prophecy,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And to bring me glimpses of times to be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When manhood’s clarion seemed to call—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah! <i>that</i> was the sweetest dream of all,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When I was a boy, a little boy!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’d like to sleep where I used to sleep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When I was a boy, a little boy!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For in at the lattice the moon would peep,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bringing her tide of dreams to sweep</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The crosses and griefs of the years away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From the heart that is weary and faint to-day;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And those dreams should give me back again</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A peace I have never known since then—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When I was a boy, a little boy!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="AT_PLAY">AT PLAY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Play that you are mother dear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And play that papa is your beau;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Play that we sit in the corner here,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Just as we used to, long ago.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Playing so, we lovers two</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Are just as happy as we can be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I’ll say “I love you” to you,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And you say “I love you” to me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“I love you” we both shall say,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">All in earnest and all in play.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Or, play that you are that other one</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That some time came, and went away;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And play that the light of years agone</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Stole into my heart again to-day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Playing that you are the one I knew</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In the days that never again may be,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’ll say “I love you” to you,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And you say “I love you” to me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“I love you!” my heart shall say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the ghost of the past come back to-day!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Or, play that you sought this nestling-place<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For your own sweet self, with that dual guise</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of your pretty mother in your face</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the look of that other in your eyes!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So the dear old loves shall live anew</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As I hold my darling on my knee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And I’ll say “I love you” to you,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And you say “I love you” to me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, many a strange, true thing we say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And do when we pretend to play!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_VALENTINE">A VALENTINE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Go, Cupid, and my sweetheart tell</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">I love her well.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yes, though she tramples on my heart</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And rends that bleeding thing apart;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And though she rolls a scornful eye</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">On doting me when I go by;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And though she scouts at everything</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As tribute unto her I bring—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Apple, banana, caramel—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Haste, Cupid, to my love and tell,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In spite of all, I love her well!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">And further say I have a sled</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Cushioned in blue and painted red!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The groceryman has promised I</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Can “hitch” whenever he goes by—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Go, tell her that, and, furthermore,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Apprise my sweetheart that a score</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of other little girls implore</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The boon of riding on that sled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Painted and hitched, as aforesaid;—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And tell her, Cupid, only she</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Shall ride upon that sled with me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Tell her this all, and further tell</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">I love her well.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITTLE_ALL-ALONEY">LITTLE ALL-ALONEY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little All-Aloney’s feet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Pitter-patter in the hall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And his mother runs to meet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And to kiss her toddling sweet,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Ere perchance he fall.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He is, oh, so weak and small!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Yet what danger shall he fear</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When his mother hovereth near,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And he hears her cheering call:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“All-Aloney”?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Little All-Aloney’s face</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">It is all aglow with glee,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As around that romping-place</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">At a terrifying pace</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Lungeth, plungeth he!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And that hero seems to be</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">All unconscious of our cheers—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Only one dear voice he hears</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Calling reassuringly:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“All-Aloney!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Though his legs bend with their load,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Though his feet they seem so small</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That you cannot help forebode</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Some disastrous episode</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In that noisy hall,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Neither threatening bump nor fall</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Little All-Aloney fears,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But with sweet bravado steers</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Whither comes that cheery call:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“All-Aloney!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Ah, that in the years to come,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">When he shares of Sorrow’s store,—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When his feet are chill and numb,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When his cross is burdensome,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And his heart is sore:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Would that he could hear once more</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The gentle voice he used to hear—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Divine with mother love and cheer—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Calling from yonder spirit shore:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">“All, all alone!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_CUNNIN_LITTLE_THING">THE CUNNIN’ LITTLE THING</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When baby wakes of mornings,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Then it’s wake, ye people all!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">For another day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Of song and play</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Has come at our darling’s call!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, till she gets her dinner,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">She makes the welkin ring,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And she <i>won’t</i> keep still till she’s had her fill</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The cunnin’ little thing!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When baby goes a-walking,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Oh, how her paddies fly!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">For that’s the way</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">The babies say</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">To other folk “by-by”;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The trees bend down to kiss her,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And the birds in rapture sing,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As there she stands and waves her hands—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The cunnin’ little thing!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When baby goes a-rocking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In her bed at close of day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">At hide-and-seek</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">On her dainty cheek</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The dreams and the dimples play;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then it’s sleep in the tender kisses</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">The guardian angels bring</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">From the Far Above to my sweetest love—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">You cunnin’ little thing!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DOLLS_WOOING">THE DOLL’S WOOING</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The little French doll was a dear little doll</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Tricked out in the sweetest of dresses;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Her eyes were of hue</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">A most delicate blue</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And dark as the night were her tresses;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Her dear little mouth was fluted and red,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And this little French doll was so very well bred</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That whenever accosted her little mouth said:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">“Mamma! mamma!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The stockinet doll, with one arm and one leg,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Had once been a handsome young fellow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">But now he appeared</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Rather frowzy and bleared</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">In his torn regimentals of yellow;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet his heart gave a curious thump as he lay</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the little toy cart near the window one day</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And heard the sweet voice of that French dolly say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">“Mamma! mamma!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">He listened so long and he listened so hard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That anon he grew ever so tender,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">For it’s everywhere known</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">That the feminine tone</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Gets away with all masculine gender!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He up and he wooed her with soldierly zest,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But all she’d reply to the love he professed</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Were <i>these</i> plaintive words (which perhaps you have guessed):</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">“Mamma! mamma!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Her mother—a sweet little lady of five—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Vouchsafed her parental protection,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">And although stockinet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent8">Wasn’t blue-blooded, yet</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">She really could make no objection!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So soldier and dolly were wedded one day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And a moment ago, as I journeyed that way,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’m sure that I heard a wee baby voice say:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent10">“Mamma! mamma!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="INSCRIPTION_FOR_MY_LITTLE">INSCRIPTION FOR MY LITTLE
+SON’S SILVER PLATE</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">When thou dost eat from off this plate,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I charge thee be thou temperate;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Unto thine elders at the board</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Do thou sweet reverence accord;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, though to dignity inclined,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Unto the serving-folk be kind;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Be ever mindful of the poor,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Nor turn them hungry from the door;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And unto God, for health and food</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And all that in thy life is good,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Give thou thy heart in gratitude.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="SEEIN_THINGS">SEEIN’ THINGS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">I ain’t afeard uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or mice,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ things ’at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I’m pretty brave, I guess; an’ yet I hate to go to bed,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, when I’m tucked up warm an’ snug an’ when my prayers are said,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Mother tells me “Happy dreams!” and takes away the light,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ leaves me lyin’ all alone an’ seein’ things at night!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes they’re in the corner, sometimes they’re by the door,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes they’re all a-standin in the middle uv the floor;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes they are a-sittin’ down, sometimes they’re walkin’ round</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">So softly an’ so creepylike they never make a sound!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Sometimes they are as black as ink, an’ other times they’re white—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But the color ain’t no difference when you see things at night!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Once, when I licked a feller ’at had just moved on our street,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ father sent me up to bed without a bite to eat,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I woke up in the dark an’ saw things standin’ in a row,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A-lookin’ at me cross-eyed an’ p’intin’ at me—so!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Oh, my! I wuz so skeered that time I never slep’ a mite—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s almost alluz when I’m bad I see things at night!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Lucky thing I ain’t a girl, or I’d be skeered to death!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Bein’ I’m a boy, I duck my head an’ hold my breath;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ I am, oh! <i>so</i> sorry I’m a naughty boy, an’ then</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I promise to be better an’ I say my prayers again!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Gran’ma tells me that’s the only way to make it right</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">When a feller has been wicked an’ sees things at night!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ so, when other naughty boys would coax me into sin,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I try to skwush the Tempter’s voice ’at urges me within;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ when they’s pie for supper, or cakes ’at’s big an’ nice,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I want to—but I do not pass my plate f’r them things twice!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">No, ruther let Starvation wipe me slowly out o’ sight</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Than I should keep a-livin’ on an’ seein’ things at night!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp53" id="i192" style="max-width: 60.9375em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i192.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><i>Seein’ Things</i></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="FISHERMAN_JIMS_KIDS">FISHERMAN JIM’S KIDS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fisherman Jim lived on the hill</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With his bonnie wife an’ his little boys;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twuz “Blow, ye winds, as blow ye will—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Naught we reck of your cold and noise!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">For happy and warm were he an’ his,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And he dandled his kids upon his knee</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">To the song of the sea.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Fisherman Jim would sail all day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But, when come night, upon the sands</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His little kids ran from their play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Callin’ to him an’ wavin’ their hands;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Though the wind was fresh and the sea was high,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He’d hear ’em—you bet—above the roar</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of the waves on the shore!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Once Fisherman Jim sailed into the bay</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">As the sun went down in a cloudy sky,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And never a kid saw he at play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And he listened in vain for the welcoming cry.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">In his little house he learned it all,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And he clinched his hands and he bowed his head—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“The fever!” they said.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">’Twuz a pitiful time for Fisherman Jim,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">With them darlin’s a-dyin’ afore his eyes,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A-stretchin’ their wee hands out to him</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">An’ a-breakin’ his heart with the old-time cries</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">He had heerd so often upon the sands;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For they thought they wuz helpin’ his boat ashore—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Till they spoke no more.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">But Fisherman Jim lived on and on,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Castin’ his nets an’ sailin’ the sea;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">As a man will live when his heart is gone,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Fisherman Jim lived hopelessly,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Till once in those years they come an’ said:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Old Fisherman Jim is powerful sick—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Go to him, quick!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then Fisherman Jim says he to me:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">“It’s a long, long cruise—you understand—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But over beyont the ragin’ sea</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">I kin see my boys on the shinin’ sand</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">Waitin’ to help this ol’ hulk ashore,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Just as they used to—ah, mate, you know!—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the long ago.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">No, sir! he wuzn’t afeard to die;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">For all night long he seemed to see</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His little boys of the days gone by,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">An’ to hear sweet voices forgot by me!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent4">An’ just as the mornin’ sun come up—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“They’re holdin’ me by the hands!” he cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An’ so he died.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="FIDDLE-DEE-DEE">“FIDDLE-DEE-DEE”</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And all he could whistle was “Fiddle-dee-dee”—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A very provoking, unmusical song</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For one to be whistling the summer day long!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yet always contented and busy was he</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With that vocal recurrence of “Fiddle-dee-dee.”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That weird iteration repented him sore;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“I prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! fetch me my gun,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For, by our St. Didy! the deed must be done</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">That shall presently rid all creation and me</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of that ominous bird and his ‘Fiddle-dee-dee’!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His awfully truculent little red gun;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The stock was of pine and the barrel of tin,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The “bang” it came out where the bullet went in—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The right kind of weapon I think you’ll agree</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For slaying all fowl that go “Fiddle-dee-dee”!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">The brave little soldier quoth never a word,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But he up and he drew a straight bead on that bird;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And, while that vain creature provokingly sang,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The gun it went off with a terrible bang!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Then loud laughed the youth—“By my Bottle,” cried he,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">“I’ve put a quietus on ‘Fiddle-dee-dee’!”</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Out came then Dear-Mother-Mine, saying: “My son,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Right well have you wrought with your little red gun!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Hereafter no evil at all need I fear,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With such a brave soldier as You-My-Love here!”</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She kissed the dear boy.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent26">[The bird in the tree</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Continued to whistle his “Fiddle-dee-dee”!]</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="OVER_THE_HILLS_AND_FAR_AWAY">OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the hills and far away,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A little boy steals from his morning play,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And under the blossoming apple-tree</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">He lies and he dreams of the things to be:</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of battles fought and of victories won,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of wrongs o’erthrown and of great deeds done—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Of the valor that he shall prove some day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the hills and far away—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Over the hills and far away!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the hills and far away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">It’s, oh, for the toil the livelong day!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But it mattereth not to the soul aflame</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With a love for riches and power and fame!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">On, O man! while the sun is high—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">On to the certain joys that lie</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yonder where blazeth the noon of day,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the hills and far away—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Over the hills and far away!</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the hills and far away,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span></div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">An old man lingers at close of day;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Now that his journey is almost done,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His battles fought and his victories won—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The old-time honesty and truth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">The trustfulness and the friends of youth,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Home and mother—where are they?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the hills and far away—</div>
+ <div class="verse indent6">Over the years and far away!</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="tnote">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_note">Transcriber’s note</h2>
+
+<p>Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. Formatting has been standardized.
+</p>
+
+<p>In this version, page numbers in the List of Illustrations reflect the position of the illustration in the
+original text, but links point to current position of illustrations.</p>
+
+Spelling has been retained as originally published except for changes below:
+
+<table class="autotable">
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">Page <a href="#Page_68">68</a>:</td>
+<td class="tdl">"Oh, yes, there ’s lots"</td>
+<td class="tdl">"Oh, yes, there’s lots"</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">Page <a href="#Page_141">141</a>:</td>
+<td class="tdl">"they ’re running still"</td>
+<td class="tdl">"they’re running still"</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75578 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
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+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
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+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #75578 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75578)
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2025-12-19 09:04:03 +0000