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Page 32 - THE SWING How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do! Up in the air and over the wall, Till I can see so wide, Rivers and trees and cattle and all Over the countryside — Till I look down on the garden green, Down on the roof so brown — Up in the air I go flying again, Up in the air and down! XXXIV TIME TO RISE A BIRDIE with a yellow bill Hopped upon the window-sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: "Ain't you 'shamed,...
Page 121 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me : Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Page 26 - 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.
Page 18 - ... 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...
Page 24 - 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!
Page 43 - WHEN children are playing alone on the green, In comes the playmate that never was seen. When children are happy and lonely and good, The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood. Nobody heard him and nobody saw, His is a picture you never could draw, But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home, When children are happy and playing alone.
Page 189 - BRIGHT is the ring of words When the right man rings them, Fair the fall of songs When the singer sings them. Still they are carolled and said — On wings they are carried — After the singer is dead And the maker buried.
Page 224 - SING me a song of a lad that is gone Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye.
Page 6 - 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.
Page 20 - 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 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.