Chapter 1

Chapter 13,272 wordsPublic domain

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_A Child's Garden of Verses_

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

_Illustrated by Jessie Willcox Smith_

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, _New York_

Printed in the United States of America

DD-3.64[H]

Reset March 1955

TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM

FROM HER BOY

_For the long nights you lay awake_ _And watched for my unworthy sake:_ _For your most comfortable hand_ _That led me through the uneven land:_ _For all the story-books you read:_ _For all the pains you comforted:_

_For all you pitied, all you bore,_ _In sad and happy days of yore:--_ _My second Mother, my first Wife,_ _The angel of my infant life--_ _From the sick child, now well and old,_ _Take, nurse, the little book you hold!_

_And grant it, Heaven, that all who read_ _May find as dear a nurse at need,_ _And every child who lists my rhyme,_ _In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,_ _May hear it in as kind a voice_ _As made my childish days rejoice!_

_R. L. S._

THE ORIGINAL

TITLE PAGE

FOR

A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES

JESSIE WILLCOX SMITH

A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES ROBERT LOVIS STEVENSON WITH ILLVSTRATIONS BY JESSIE WILLCOX SMITH

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS NEW YORK MCMV

CONTENTS

TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM vii

BED IN SUMMER 3

A THOUGHT 4

AT THE SEA-SIDE 5

YOUNG NIGHT-THOUGHT 6

WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN 7

RAIN 7

PIRATE STORY 8

FOREIGN LANDS 9

WINDY NIGHTS 10

TRAVEL 11

SINGING 13

LOOKING FORWARD 14

A GOOD PLAY 15

WHERE GO THE BOATS? 16

AUNTIE'S SKIRTS 17

THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE 18

THE LAND OF NOD 19

MY SHADOW 20

SYSTEM 22

A GOOD BOY 23

ESCAPE AT BEDTIME 24

MARCHING SONG 25

THE COW 26

HAPPY THOUGHT 27

THE WIND 28

KEEPSAKE MILL 29

GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN 31

FOREIGN CHILDREN 33

THE SUN TRAVELS 35

THE LAMPLIGHTER 36

MY BED IS A BOAT 37

THE MOON 39

THE SWING 40

TIME TO RISE 41

LOOKING-GLASS RIVER 42

FAIRY BREAD 44

FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE 45

WINTER-TIME 46

THE HAYLOFT 47

FAREWELL TO THE FARM 49

NORTH-WEST PASSAGE 50

1. Good-Night 50

2. Shadow March 51

3. In Port 52

THE CHILD ALONE

THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE 57

MY SHIP AND I 59

MY KINGDOM 61

PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER 63

MY TREASURES 65

BLOCK CITY 67

THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS 69

ARMIES IN THE FIRE 71

THE LITTLE LAND 73

GARDEN DAYS

NIGHT AND DAY 79

NEST EGGS 82

THE FLOWERS 84

SUMMER SUN 86

THE DUMB SOLDIER 87

AUTUMN FIRES 89

THE GARDENER 90

HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS 92

ENVOYS

TO WILLIE AND HENRIETTA 97

TO MY MOTHER 98

TO AUNTIE 99

TO MINNIE 100

TO MY NAME-CHILD 103

TO ANY READER 105

ILLUSTRATIONS

FROM DRAWINGS IN COLOR BY JESSIE WILLCOX SMITH

FACING PAGE

BED IN SUMMER 4

In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light.

FOREIGN LANDS 10

I held the trunk with both my hands And looked abroad on foreign lands.

THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE 18

I was the giant great and still That sits upon the pillow-hill,

MY SHADOW 20

He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

FOREIGN CHILDREN 34

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! don't you wish that you were me?

LOOKING-GLASS RIVER 42

We can see our coloured faces Floating on the shaken pool

THE HAYLOFT 48

Oh, what a joy to clamber there, Oh, what a place for play, With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air, The happy hills of hay!

NORTH-WEST PASSAGE 50

And face with an undaunted tread The long black passage up to bed.

PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER 64

Water now is turned to stone Nurse and I can walk upon; Still we find the flowing brooks In the picture story-books.

THE LITTLE LAND 74

I have just to shut my eyes To go sailing through the skies-- To go sailing far away To the pleasant Land of Play;

THE FLOWERS 84

All the names I know from nurse: Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse, Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock, And the Lady Hollyhock.

TO AUNTIE 100

What did the other children do? And what were childhood, wanting you?

A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES

BED IN SUMMER

In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer, quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day?

A THOUGHT

It is very nice to think The world is full of meat and drink, With little children saying grace In every Christian kind of place.

AT THE SEA-SIDE

When I was down beside the sea A wooden spade they gave to me To dig the sandy shore.

My holes were empty like a cup. In every hole the sea came up, Till it could come no more.

YOUNG NIGHT-THOUGHT

All night long and every night, When my mama puts out the light, I see the people marching by, As plain as day, before my eye.

Armies and emperors and kings, All carrying different kinds of things, And marching in so grand a way, You never saw the like by day.

So fine a show was never seen At the great circus on the green; For every kind of beast and man Is marching in that caravan.

At first they move a little slow, But still the faster on they go, And still beside them close I keep Until we reach the town of Sleep.

WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN

A child should always say what's true And speak when he is spoken to, And behave mannerly at table; At least as far as he is able.

RAIN

The rain is raining all around, It falls on field and tree, It rains on the umbrellas here, And on the ships at sea.

PIRATE STORY

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing, Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea. Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring, And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat, Wary of the weather and steering by a star? Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat, To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar?

Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea-- Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar! Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be, The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.

FOREIGN LANDS

Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the trunk with both my hands And looked abroad on foreign lands.

I saw the next door garden lie, Adorned with flowers, before my eye, And many pleasant places more That I had never seen before.

I saw the dimpling river pass And be the sky's blue looking-glass; The dusty roads go up and down With people tramping in to town.

If I could find a higher tree Farther and farther I should see, To where the grown-up river slips Into the sea among the ships,

To where the roads on either hand Lead onward into fairy land, Where all the children dine at five, And all the playthings come alive.

WINDY NIGHTS

Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet, A man goes riding by. Late in the night when the fires are out, Why does he gallop and gallop about?

Whenever the trees are crying aloud, And ships are tossed at sea, By, on the highway, low and loud, By at the gallop goes he. By at the gallop he goes, and then By he comes back at the gallop again.

TRAVEL

I should like to rise and go Where the golden apples grow;-- Where below another sky Parrot islands anchored lie, And, watched by cockatoos and goats, Lonely Crusoes building boats;-- Where in sunshine reaching out Eastern cities, miles about, Are with mosque and minaret Among sandy gardens set, And the rich goods from near and far Hang for sale in the bazaar;-- Where the Great Wall round China goes, And on one side the desert blows, And with bell and voice and drum, Cities on the other hum;-- Where are forests, hot as fire, Wide as England, tall as a spire, Full of apes and cocoa-nuts And the negro hunters' huts;-- Where the knotty crocodile Lies and blinks in the Nile, And the red flamingo flies Hunting fish before his eyes;-- Where in jungles, near and far, Man-devouring tigers are, Lying close and giving ear Lest the hunt be drawing near,

Or a comer-by be seen Swinging in a palanquin;-- Where among the desert sands Some deserted city stands, All its children, sweep and prince, Grown to manhood ages since, Not a foot in street or house, Not a stir of child or mouse, And when kindly falls the night, In all the town no spark of light. There I'll come when I'm a man With a camel caravan; Light a fire in the gloom Of some dusty dining-room; See the pictures on the walls, Heroes, fights, and festivals; And in a corner find the toys Of the old Egyptian boys.

SINGING

Of speckled eggs the birdie sings And nests among the trees; The sailor sings of ropes and things In ships upon the seas.

The children sing in far Japan, The children sing in Spain; The organ with the organ man Is singing in the rain.

LOOKING FORWARD

When I am grown to man's estate I shall be very proud and great, And tell the other girls and boys Not to meddle with my toys.

A GOOD PLAY

We built a ship upon the stairs All made of the back-bedroom chairs, And filled it full of sofa pillows To go a-sailing on the billows.

We took a saw and several nails, And water in the nursery pails; And Tom said, "Let us also take An apple and a slice of cake;"-- Which was enough for Tom and me To go a-sailing on, till tea.

We sailed along for days and days And had the very best of plays; But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, So there was no one left but me.

WHERE GO THE BOATS?

Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand.

Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating-- Where will all come home?

On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill.

Away down the river, A hundred miles or more, Other little children Shall bring my boats ashore.

AUNTIE'S SKIRTS

Whenever Auntie moves around, Her dresses make a curious sound, They trail behind her up the floor, And trundle after through the door.

THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE

When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so I watched my leaden soldiers go, With different uniforms and drills, Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets All up and down among the sheets; Or brought my trees and houses out, And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still That sits upon the pillow-hill, And sees before him, dale and plain, The pleasant land of counterpane.

THE LAND OF NOD

From breakfast on through all the day At home among my friends I stay, But every night I go abroad Afar into the land of Nod.

All by myself I have to go, With none to tell me what to do-- All alone beside the streams And up the mountain-sides of dreams.

The strangest things are there for me, Both things to eat and things to see, And many frightening sights abroad Till morning in the land of Nod.

Try as I like to find the way, I never can get back by day, Nor can remember plain and clear The curious music that I hear.

MY SHADOW

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-- Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

SYSTEM

Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I've been good, I get an orange after food.

The child that is not clean and neat, With lots of toys and things to eat, He is a naughty child, I'm sure-- Or else his dear papa is poor.

A GOOD BOY

I woke before the morning, I was happy all the day, I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play.

And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood, And I am very happy, for I know that I've been good.

My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen smooth and fair And I must be off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my prayer.

I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun arise, No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly sight my eyes.

But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn, And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn.

ESCAPE AT BEDTIME

The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out Through the blinds and the windows and bars; And high overhead and all moving about, There were thousands of millions of stars. There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a tree, Nor of people in church or the Park, As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me, And that glittered and winked in the dark.

The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all, And the star of the sailor, and Mars, These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall Would be half full of water and stars.

They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries, And they soon had me packed into bed; But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes, And the stars going round in my head.

MARCHING SONG

Bring the comb and play upon it! Marching, here we come! Willie cocks his highland bonnet, Johnnie beats the drum.

Mary Jane commands the party, Peter leads the rear; Feet in time, alert and hearty, Each a Grenadier!

All in the most martial manner Marching double-quick; While the napkin, like a banner, Waves upon the stick!

Here's enough of fame and pillage, Great commander Jane! Now that we've been round the village, Let's go home again.

THE COW

The friendly cow all red and white, I love with all my heart: She gives me cream with all her might, To eat with apple-tart.

She wanders lowing here and there, And yet she cannot stray, All in the pleasant open air, The pleasant light of day;

And blown by all the winds that pass And wet with all the showers, She walks among the meadow grass And eats the meadow flowers.

HAPPY THOUGHT

The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.

THE WIND

I saw you toss the kites on high And blow the birds about the sky; And all around I heard you pass, Like ladies' skirts across the grass-- O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I saw the different things you did, But always you yourself you hid. I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all-- O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!

O you that are so strong and cold, O blower, are you young or old? Are you a beast of field and tree, Or just a stronger child than me? O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!

KEEPSAKE MILL

Over the borders, a sin without pardon, Breaking the branches and crawling below, Out through the breach in the wall of the garden, Down by the banks of the river, we go.

Here is the mill with the humming of thunder, Here is the weir with the wonder of foam, Here is the sluice with the race running under-- Marvellous places, though handy to home!

Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller, Stiller the note of the birds on the hill; Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller, Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill.

Years may go by, and the wheel in the river Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day, Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever Long after all of the boys are away.

Home from the Indies and home from the ocean, Heroes and soldiers we all shall come home; Still we shall find the old mill wheel in motion, Turning and churning that river to foam.

You with the bean that I gave when we quarrelled, I with your marble of Saturday last, Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled, Here we shall meet and remember the past.

GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN

Children, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle; If you would grow great and stately, You must try to walk sedately.

You must still be bright and quiet, And content with simple diet; And remain, through all bewild'ring, Innocent and honest children.

Happy hearts and happy faces, Happy play in grassy places-- That was how, in ancient ages, Children grew to kings and sages.

But the unkind and the unruly, And the sort who eat unduly, They must never hope for glory-- Theirs is quite a different story!

Cruel children, crying babies, All grew up as geese and gabies, Hated, as their age increases, By their nephews and their nieces.

FOREIGN CHILDREN

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! don't you wish that you were me?