<^-^°-^ ■/\- . ^> o ,v ,0 -v '. COPYRIGHT, i8gb JOHN LANE ^"^ ^^"^ c TL 3:e 3X 3X DEAR MOTHER, THESE TO YOU I GIVE, ALTHOUGH THE WORDS ALREADY LIVE WITHIN YOUR HEART; FOR YOU HAVE HEARD MY VERSES, EVERY LINE AND WORD- YEA, EVEN BEFORE THE THOUGHTS HAD TIME TO FEEL THEMSELVES AT HOME IN RHYME. YET THERE IS SOMETHING IN THE LOOK AND HANDLING OF A PRINTED BOOK THAT SEEMS TO SAY, " LO, HERE IS CAUGHT THE SPOKEN WORD OR PASSING THOUGHT THAT, TOUCHING SOME MYSTERIOUS SPRING, MAKES ALL THE PAST A LIVING THING." SO YOU MAY READ, WHO READ BETWEEN THE LINES BECAUSE YOUR EYES HAVE SEEN THE CHILD AND HIS CHILD-POEMS GROW. A POEM OTHERS MAY NOT KNOW IN GLIMPSES OF THAT JOYOUS LIFE ALL ON THE SUNNY SHORES OF FIFE. AND HEAR IN SONG, THOUGH FAINT AND DIE, AN ECHO OF THE VOICE OF HIM WHO PASSED AND LEFT US ALL BEFORE HIS HEART SUMMED HALF THE YEARS HE WORE. SO, MOTHER DEAR, THIS BOOK TO YOU! IT MAY BUILD UP THE PAST ANEW UNTIL AS IN A DREAM YOU SEE YOUR CHILDREN GATHER ROUND YOUR KNEE TO LISTEN WHILE A CHAPTER'S READ, THEN LISP THEIR PRAYERS AND GO TO BED. AND WHEN THEY'RE SOUND ASLEEP YOU'LL SIT TO HEAR THE WHILE YOU SEW OR KNIT, THEIR FATHER'S VOICE SO RICH IN TONE GIVE VERSE A CHARM NOT ALL ITS OWN; OR FROM HIS BIG CHAIR READ AGAIN SOME PASSAGE FROM HIS LOVED MONTAIGNE. Babfs Big World The Stars Froifi a Bedroom Window Morning Song Hiding Wading A Lost Week Sailing Page 3 7 lO II 17 20 24 27 CONTENTS Santa Claus Page 31 Winter Nights 34 Story Time 36 Lullaby 3S The World's Music 43 The Music of the Spheres 46 The Birds' Sojtgs 47 The Wind's Song 49 The Song of the Kettle 52 The Crows SS The Sea Shell 59 What the Leaves Say 62 CONTENTS PICTURED. The Eyes of God Jack Frost A Queer Thing How the Flowers Grow Sabbath Days Springti7ne The Coward Nettle Rain in Spring A Mystery Goa's Work Dreams In the Harvest Field On the Beach City Sparrows Page 6g 70 73 74 78 81 84 86 S7 go 94 g6 g8 TOO CONTENTS The Sleeping World Page 10 S A Portrait JO 6 Caddie Jo8 T~J Romance Chivalry Robinson Crusoe Time and Tide Shipwreck Fairyland My Valentine 113 116 120 124 126 i2g 133 CONTENTS To Rob and May To Bessie To May and Mary To Auntie To the Boys of Barncraig To All Children Page 139 141 144 147 149 154 HOME AND PLAY r-w^^^ i^BV^S DIG WORLD BABY'S BIG WO RLD \ So. she climbs upon a chair ; Gazes out with round, blue eyes. While the sunlight on her hair Makes it golden as the skies. What a big, big world she sees ! Leafy lanes and winding rills, Great, green fields and shady trees, And far away, the silent hills. Round about the setting sun Clouds are bidding him good-night^; Baby sees them, every one, Glowing in his golden light. When the clouds are growing dim And their gold has changed to red, Baby sings her evening hymn, Lisps her prayer, and goes to bed. Ere the stars begin to peep In the heavens, east and west, Baby will be sound asleep, Like a birdie in its nest BABY'S BIG WORL Di- still, perhaps, in dreams she sees, Leafy lanes, and winding rills, Great, green fields and shady trees ; Golden clouds and silent hills. the:3tak'=). OPEN the shutters, put out the h'ght ; Our gowns are on and our prayers, are said ; And now we must bid the stars good-night, Ere mother haps us up in bed. Around the window, one, two, three, There's Httle May and Rob and me. 7 THE STARS Father opens the shutters a chink ; Then lowers the light to let us spy The stars that stare, and the stars that bUnk, A million lamps in the curtained sky. Around the window, hand in hand, Three children in their night-gowns stand. "Yonder's the big one." Little May Has seen him first, then Rob, then me.. For I am the oldest, and that's the way We should watch the stars across the sea.. Three little children in a row, To watch the big one flash and glow. Then Rob with his face to the window pressed Picks out the red one among the white; For that's the star that Rob likes best Because it shines like the harbour light. But I point out the row of three That stand like May and Rob and me, Then father, while we stand and gaze, Talks of the sky and names the stars ; Mine is Orion's belt ; and May's Is Sirius ; and Rob's is Mars. Then into our cosy beds we creep ; For it's time that children were all asleep. 8 THE STARS -Good-night, you stars that gUnt and gleam. The shutters are shut ; the curtains drawn ; But we'll see you shining down in dream, Till you all go out with the rosy dawn. Father and mother, a kiss, good-night ! We'll wake when you let in .the morning light. TKOM A BCDKOOM WINDOT^ DAY by day the shadows grow Shorter on the sleeping snow ; Day by day the sunbeams fall Closer to our garden wall. When the noon-day sun shall glint On boxwood, balm, and peppermint, I'll know that Spring has come, and then Hurrah ! I shall get out again. MORNING SONG W^ l^rfu '■ m ■P^l 7^ '[|WE BRUSH OUR f 1 l^OOTS 1 m P HIS is the way we brush our boots ; Make them bright both left and right. This is the way we brush our boots To go to school in the morn in g. The dewy grass is growing green ; The face of every flower is clean, And children also should be seen As fair for school in the morning. MORNING SONG |wT WASH our] Br FTXCEJ] HIS is the way we wash our face, Leave no speck on cheek or neck. This is the way we wash our face To go to school in the morning. The birds have had their bath, and now They preen their wings on twig and bough, And, chirping, tell all children how To wasli and dress in the morning. 13 MORNING SONG HIS is the way we comb our hair. From the crown we shade it down. ■r This is the way we comb our hair To go to school in the morning. The clouds that looked so black last night Are sailing now all snowy white ; And boys and girls should be as bright To go to school in the morning. 14 MORNING SONG HIS is the way we brush our clothes. Children must beware of dust. This is the way we brush our clothes To go to school in the morning. We'll get our breakfast and away, With half-an-hour to run and play, And so begin a happy day In time for school in the morning. 15 MORNING SONG ND that is the way that boys and girls Who would be seen both neat and clean, This is the way that boys and girls Prepare for school in the morning. i6 HEN the table-cloth is laid And the cups are on the table ; When the tea and toast are made, That's a happy time for Mabel. Stealing to her mother's side, In her ear she whispers low, "When papa comes in I'll hide; Do not tell him where I go." 17 .^I.DINQ On her knees upon the floor ; In below the sofa creeping ; When she hears him at the door She pretends that she is sleeping. *' Where is Mabel ? " father cries, Looking round and round about. Then he murmurs in surprise, '' Surely Mabel can't be out." First he looks behind his chair, Then he peers below the table, Seeking, searching everywhere, All in vain for little Mabel. But at last he thinks he knows ; And he laughs and shakes his head ; Says to mother, " I suppose " Mabel has been put to bed. " 1 8 HIDING But when he sits down to tea, From beneath the sofa creeping, Mabel cHmbs upon his knee, Claps her hands : '' I was not sleeping." Father whispers, ''Where's my girl's Very secret hiding place ? " But she only shakes her curls, Laughing, smiling in his face. l^< 19 wAmc. SUMMER'S sunny days have come ; Soft and sweet the wind is blowing ; B^'s across the meadow hum Where the golden flowers are growing ; Fields and trees are green and fair, And sunshine's sleeping everywhere. W A P I N G 0, the sunny summer days, When the ripples dance and quiver ; And the sun at noontide lays Star-like jewels on the river ! Take your shoes off ; wade in here Where the water's warm and clear. Listen to the song it s'mgs, Ever rippling, ever flowing; Telling of a thousand things ; Whence it comes, and whither going Singing, like the birds and bees, Of the wondrous world it sees. 21 WADINl^ << CoHie, and I shall bathe your feet, Little boys, so warm with playing In the summer's sultry heat." That is what the stream is saying. Off go jacket, socks, and shoes. -How eoiild any boy refuse? See the fishes dart aboiit. Where a thousand lights are dancing Here a minnow, there a trout, Like a sword of silver glancing. Is it hide-and-seek they play Through the sunny summer day ? WADING All the wood is filled with sound, And the very air is ringing. Up and down and all around, With the songs the birds are singing. O, the golden summer hours, When earth's a paradise of flowers ! 23 A LOST WEEK. woke one dar with wrecks and ships All topsf-tuny it! mj^head; And I learned tnis from mofher'3 tips, TThaJ I had been a week in bed. 24 A LOST WEEK I'd slept so sound though I was ill, I had not felt the slightest pain ; Yet mother said I must lie still And try to fall asleep again. To sleep a week was long enough ; And not to wake, and not to know That I'd been drinking nasty stuff From bottles standing in a row. Yet still my eyes would not keep wide, Even though I heard the shouts of boys And happy girls at play outside, And knew the sound of every voice. 25 A LOST WEEK The voices died to a drowsy hum ; And in the distance, low and deep, I heard the roll of the engine drum, And then— I must have fallen asleep. 26 5^LlNO 27 SAILING , What a pretty boat it is, Sail and mast and all ! Father made it just like his,. Only very small. And I'm going to call it " Sun," For that's the name of father's one; Little waves, come up and creeps Round my little boat ; Where the water's ankle-deep I shall see it float ; And you'll sing your sweetest song As it sails and sails along. 28 S A I L I N G: See, my boatie mounts and dips Where you break in foam. Tell it how the big, big ships Sail so far from home ; Wh^t they brmg, and where they go ; And the thousand things you know. What is it you sing about ? Tell me what you say, Coming in and going out, All the summer day. Whisper to my boat and me Of the ship& far out at sea. SAILING. Now we're sailing, brave and bold,. With the gentle breeze ; Seeing islands laid with gold Far in foreign seas, Where the skies are bright and clear, And it's summer all the year. Little waves, now must you bring My boatie safe to land. We've listened to the songs you sing Creeping o'er the sand. When I grow older I'll find out The lovely lands you talk aboijt. 30 N Spring the sun shines clear and bright And calls us out to run and play, For, though the winds are cold at night, The steaming ground is warm all day. 31 SANTA GLAUS When Summer brings the birds and bees, And flowers wave o'er all the land, We want to play among the trees Or dig for sand-eels in the sand. In Autumn, when the golden sheaves Are ranked about the fields in scores And ruddy tints are on the leaves, You do not wish to stay indoors. 32 SANTA CLAUS But when the birds and bees are dumb And Jack Frost stills the bubbling brooks, It's then that Santa Ciaus will come And bring you lots of toys and books. Is it not kind of Santa Claus, To think of little girls and boys When winter nights are long, because That's just the time they wish 'for toys? 33 W HEN winter hangs the hedge with haws And whitens hemlocks round the park, We can't get out to play, because, As soon as tea is done, it's dark. It's hard to have to stay at home When haws are ripe for hemlock guns; And so through foreign lands we roam To seek the fruits of tropic suns. 34 WINTER NIGHTS Rob folds the screen ; and in a nook Of dates and figs sits down to feast, And fills it from his picture book With ^ bears and every kind of beast. I turn the stool up; take my seat And sail away to Sinbad-shore, Where, setting it upon its feet, I ride a thousand miles and more. And to her dolls May's humming low The songs that all dolls understand, While mother knits and doesn't know Her chair's the harbour where we'll land. 35 E get our books when play is ^_j done ; And May with Bunyan from the shelf Reads through the pictures one by one And makes a story up herself. STORY TIME And Rob slays giants tall as trees And witches that infest the land ; Their prisoned princesses he frees And fights with dragons hand to hand. While round the world with Drake I sail, And drive the great Armada back ; Or toil through seas of ice, and nail Against the Pole the Union Jack. 37 HUSH-A-BYE, baby, hush-a-bye, ba ! Gooing one, cooing one, rest. The round sun's already asleep in his beddie And dreaming a dream of the West. Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, ba ! Comfy and cosy, Backie and bosie, Till morning, sweet morning, ta ta ! 38 LULLABY Hush-a-bye, baby, hush-a-bye, ba ! Blinking one, winking one, rest. The gloaming is falling and curfew is calling The little birds home to their nest. Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, ba ! Comfy and cosy, Feetie and toesie. Till morning, bright morning, ta ta ! Hui§h-a-bye, baby, hush-a-bye, ba ! Smile you now, while you now sleep. 39 LULLABY The starnies are twinkling above you, and sprinkling Baby stars down on the deep. Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, ba ! Comfy and cosy, Eyesey and nosey, Till morning awake thee, ta ta ! 40 42 THE WORLDS MU'^IC THE world's a very happy place, Where every child should dance and sing, And always have a smiling face, tAnd never sulk for anything. I waken when the morning's come, And feel the air and light alive With strange sweet music like the hurri' Of bees about their busy hive. The linnets play among the leaves At hide-and-seek, and chirp and sing; While, flashing to and from the eaves, The swallows twitter on the wing. 43 THE WORLD'S MUSIC And twigs that shake, and boughs that sway ; And tall old trees you could not climb ; And winds that come, but cannot stay, Are singing gaily all the time. From dawn to dark the old mill-wheel Makes music, going round and round ; And dusty-white with flour and meal, The miller whistles to its sound. The brook that flows beside the mill, As happy as a brook can be, Goes singing its own song until It learns the singing of the sea. For every wave upon the sands Sings songs you never tire to hear. Of laden ships from sunny lands Where it is summer all the year. 44 THE WORLD'S MUSIC And if you listen to the rain When leaves and birds and bees are dumb, You hear it pattering on the pane Like Andrew beating on his drum. The coals beneath the kettle croon, And clap their hands and dance in glee ; And even the kettle hums a tune To tell you when it's time for tea. The world is such a happy place That children, whether big or small, Should always have a smiling face x\nd never, never sulk at all. 45 WHEN we are fast asleep in bed, And hear in dream the sound of song, The moon and stars high over- head Are making music all nighlfe long. 46 TME BIRDS SONGS WHAT do the birds all sing about Through the Hvelong summer day? The swallows call, " Come out ; come out," And the blackbirds whistle, "To play." The mavis sings to the rosy dawn Till the sun comes into the sky, And flings his gold about the lawn Where the dewy diamonds lie. The lark leaps from the broomy links, And shakes from his wings the dew And soaring sings, until he blinks A speck in the azure blue. ' . 47 THE BIRDS' SONGS Then every bower finds a voice ; And linnets and finches sing; The grasses dance ; the whins rejoice ; And the bells of the blue-bell ring. Thus all the day do birdies sing Until the light grows dim ; And then the lark on soaring wing Towards heaven again must hymn. The mavis tunes his throat anew, And, piping to the west, He bids the dying day adieu And sings a song of rest. '' O what a happy world is ours In summer and in spring, With fields and trees and grass and flowers ! " That's what the birdies sing. ^^' 48 THE WIWD') SONG O WINDS that blow across the sea, What is the story that you bring^ Leaves clap their hands on every tree And birds about their branches sing. You sing to flowers and trees and birds Your sea-songs over all the land. 'Could you not stay and whisper words A little child might understand ? '49 THE WIND'S SONG The roses nod to hear you sing ; But though I Hsten all the day. You never tell me anything Of father's ship so far away. Its masts are taller than the trees ; Its sails are silver in the sun ; There's not a ship upon the seas S'o beautiful as father's one. With wings spread out it flies so fast It leaves the waves all white with foam. Just whisper to me, blowing past, If you have seen it sailing home. I feel your breath upon my cheek, And in my hair, and on my brow. Dear winds, if you could only speak, I "khow what you wdufd tell me now. •50 THE WIND'S SONG My father's coming home, you'd say, With precious presents, one, two, three ; A shawl for mother, beads for May, And eggs and shells for Rob and me. The winds sing songs where'er they roam ; The leaves all clap their, .little hands ; For father's ship is coming home With wondrous things from foreign lands. 51 p(^^^^^^^ THE SONG or THE KETTLE WHEN I come hungry home from school, I like to hear the kettle sing ; And, seated on the kitchen stool, I watch it hanging from the swing 52 IHE SOiNG OF THE KETTLE At first it does not say a word ; And then it tries a chirp or two, And cheeps a bit, just Hke a bird That wonders what he'll sing to you. But when its throat is cleared it sings Of honey gathered h^ ^^'^ Dee ; Of cream and jam and all the things That you would like to have at tea.- And then I shut my eyes and bcH] The bees hum sweetly as they pass ; And see the lazy cows quite clear Go wading ankte deep in erass ■ And harvest fields and hill and sky : The river and the old mill-v/heel, Where horse and cart go rumbling by With swelling sacks of flour and meal. 53 THE SONG OF THE KETTLE, That's what the kettle sings about ; I see them hke the things you dream ; When all at once its crooked spout Sends out a gush of hissing steam. The lid goes rattling up and down And won't keep quiet till mother's come. And soon the teapot, fat and brown, Is singing, and the kettle's dumb. 54 THE CKOW^ WHAT a famous noise there was In the morning when I rose ! All the air was hoarse with " caws," And the sky was black with crows. Hundreds circling round the trees Swooped down on a last year's nest; Rose and scattered, then, like bees, Swarmed again and could not rest- THE CROWS Cawing, cawing all the time ; Till it grew to one great voice, And you could not hear the chime Of the school clock for the noise. Every garden bush has heard, Through its tiny twigs and shoots ; And the trees have all been stirred Right down to their very roots. Buds of green on branch and stem Glisten in the morning sun • For the crows have wakened them, And they open one by one. On the hill, last night, there lay One white patch from winter-snows. Now it's melted clean away With |he cawing of the crows. And a primrose, too, has heard. Peeping out to nod and talk, From the hedge-roots to a bird, Hopping down the garden walk. 57 THE CROWS What a famous noise it was ! To make the trees and bushes hear, And fields and flowers and leaves, because The merry time of spring is near. 58 THE 'StA- ^HELL H OLD this buckie to your ear— What a pleasant sound you hear ! 59 THE SEA-SHELL All the happy sounds you've heard ; Hum of bee and song of bird ; What the gentle breezes sing When they wake the flowers in spring ; Songs of trees and running brooks ; Songs you never read in books, Of the waves and of the tides, And a thousand more besides ; Songs you've heard the whole year through, Has this buckie heard them too ? For it's here the breezes bring, Songs the fields and forests sing. Here the tides tell twice a day, Of the wonders far away. And the buckie drinks its fill Of their music, lying still, Listening with open mouth, To the songs of north and south. Through its winding whorls they creep, Where they're singing now in sleep, A thousand voices never done ; Arid you hear them all in one. 60 THE SEA-SHELL When its song is sad and low, The tide is going out, you know ; But it shouts with joy and pride, To welcome in the rising tide. &i WHAT THE LEAVE") "^AY: I HAVE heard the leaves, and know What they speak of, whispering low, As the breezes come and go. 62 WHAT THE LEAVES -SAY To the South they whisper, '• Please Tell us tales of other trees, You have seen across the seas." And the wind, which understands, Speaks of far off foreign lands, Till the leaves all clap their hands. For they hear about the vine, Growing by the castled Rhine, Flowing through a land of wine ; Orange groves and olive trees, Hanging o'er enchanted seas. And of fairer things than these ; Giant palm-leaves waving fair ; Fragrant figs that fill the air With an odour rich and rare. Thus the balmy South wnnds blow, Telling, as they come and go, Of the thousand trees they know. 63 WHAT THE LEAVES SAY But the angry East has tales All of storms and ships in gales ; Broken masts and tattered sails. And it swirls and shrieks, and breaks Frightened twigs away, and shakes Branches till the great trunk quakes. But the North wind, when it blows, Tells of ice in bergs and floes ; Bears and seals and Esquimaux. And it speaks of wondrous sights, When the magic northern lights Flare across its Arctic nights. To the green leaves as they hear, Shivering with a boding fear Of the winter drav/ing near, Comes the West, and whispers low, " Leaves and flowers shall not know Anything of frost and snow." 64 WHAT THE LEAVES SAY And it calls the birds to sing Songs of summer; songs of spring, Till the widest woodlands ring. Then the leaves all dance and play : Every branch and twig and spray, Calling to the West wind, " Stay ! " I have listened and I've heard What the leaves say, every word Like the chirping of a bird. 65 66 68 GOD watches o'er us all the day, At home, at school, and at our play; A.nd when the sun has left the skies He watches with a million eyes. 69 THE door was shut, as doors should be, Before you went to bed last night ; Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see, And left your window silver white. He must have waited till you slept ; And not a single word he spoke, But pencilled o'er the panes and crept Away again before you woke. . 70 JACK FROST And now you cannot see the trees Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane ; But there are fairer things than these His fingers traced on every pane. . Rocks and castles towering high ; Hills and dales and streams and fields ; And knights in armour riding by, With nodding plumes and shining shields. And here are little boats, and there Big ships with sails spread to the breeze ; A.nd yonder, palm trees waving fair On islands set in silver seas. And butterflies with gauzy wings ; And herds of cows and flocks of sheep ; And fruit and flowers and all the things You see when you are sound asleep. ,71 JACK FROST r For, creeping softly underneath The door when all the lights are out, Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe And knows the things you think about. He paints them on the window pane In fairy lines with frozen steam ; And when you wake you see again The lovely things you saw in dream. 72 WHEN I go to bed, if the night is fine, I should like to sit up late ; But in the morning I'd lie till nine When mother calls me at eight. T HIS is how the flowers grow : I have watched them and I know. 74 HOW THE FLOWERS GROW First, above the ground is seen A tiny blade of purest green, Reaching up and peeping forth East and West, and South and North. North, towards the hills it looks, To see the silver flash of brooks ; And it questions of the East If the winter winds have ceased. Turning South, it asks the sun If the springtime has begun ; From the West it seeks to know When its warmer winds will blow. Then it shoots up day by day. Curling in a curious way Round a blossom, which it keeps Warm and cosy while it sleeps. 75 HOW THE FLOWERS GROW For, although the sun be bright, Jack Frost walks abroad at night ; And tender buds would surely die If they were out when Jack went by. But when birds begin to sing Of the balmy breath of spring ; And the clouds in summer's quest All come sailing from the West ; Then the sunbeams find their way To the sleeping bud and say, " We are children of the sun Sent to wake thee, little one." And the leaflet opening wide Shows the tiny bud inside, Peeping with half-opened eye On the bright and sunny sky. ^^^ww 7b HOW THE FLOWERS GROW Breezes from the West and South Lay their kisses on its mouth ; Till the petals all are grown, And the bud's a flower full-blown That is how the flowers grow : I have watched them and I know. 77 3AD5ATH DP^^. I LIKE the Summer Sabbath days ; For father takes us out a walk Along the Banks or East the Braes ; And always of the flowers we talk. We find a snug and cosy nook, Where you might sit for hours and hours ; And father reads us from a book, What poets write about the flowers. 7S SABBATH DAYS We hear the gowan's poet make A song about his bonny gem ; They smile around, and for his sake We stay our hands from pulUng them. And flowers that grow in wood and wold ; On hill and heath, on bank and bent ; We hear one call them, ' Blue and gold, Stars shining in earth's firmament.' He shuts the book ; and then we hear How fays and fairies sleep all day In cradle blooms ; till, tinkling clear, The dew-drops call them out to play. Of rounds and fairy rings, he tells, When beetles drone and glow-worms glow ; Till we hear the chime of the heather bells And a thousand bind-weed bugfles blow. 79 <^1^ SING a song of springtime ; Sing of March and May When the sun is cHmbing Higher every day ; Wakening and warming All the icy earth ; From the clay clods charming Flowers into birth : SPRINGTIME Hanging hawthorn hedges With a blooni of snow ; Kissing woodland edges ; Bidding violets grow. Wheresoe'er he lays his Light in golden bars, buttercups and daisies Gleam like suns and stars Tender-eyed primroses From their clustering leaves Leap to life in posies, Ranked around like sheaves, And where gorse is gilding Bushes bare and brown, Birds are busy building Quite a little town. Now it's wool their bringing ; Moss and straw and hay ; Songs of gladness singing All the happy day. 82 SPRINGTIME Sing a song of springtime ; Sing of April showers; Sing of golden butterflies And birds and bees and flowers, ^^^^^V^^^V^^:-(^v 83 I SAW a bumble bee to-day Alight on a nettle leaf ; And when he had rested and buzzed away He was not buzzing in grief. 84 THE COWARD NETTLE " The nettle did not sting, you see," I said to mother and nurse ; " For the nettle knows if he stung the bee, The bee would sting him worse." The coward nettles only sting The hands that are soft and small, For the gardener grips them like anything And they don't hurt him at all. 85 So soft and gentle falls the rain, You cannot hear it on the pane ; For if it came in pelting showers, 'Twould hurt the budding leaves and flowers. 86 FLOWERS from clods of clay and mud ! Flowers so bright, and grass so green ! Tell me, blade, and leaf, and bud, How it is you're all so clean. 87 A MYSTERY If my fingers touch these sods, See, they're streaked with sticky earth; Yet you spring from clayey clods, Pure, and fresh, and fair from birth. Do you wash yourselves at night. In a bath of diamond dew, That you look so fresh and bright When the morning dawns on you ? ^^ God, perhaps, sends summer showers. When the grass grows grey for rain, To wash the faces of His flowers, And bid His fields be green again. A MYSTERY Tell me, blade, and leaf, and bud ; Flowers so fair, and grass so green, Growing out of clay and mud. How it is you're all so clean. 89 ^[OWS in the meadow And birds in the tree ; 90 GOD'S WORK ORSES on highways And fish in the sea ; AILORS in schooners, And miners in mines, EEP down in pits where The sun never shines : . IRLS playing jin- go-ring ; Boys sounding tops ; 91 GOD'S WORK OTHERS in kitchens, And fathers in shops ; HE sun in the heavens, From morning to night, AKING the fields and flowers Laugh in his light ; ATCHING o'er everything All the day through ; 92 OD'S WORK WHAT a lot of work God has to do ! 93 IF children have been good all day, And kept their tongues and lips quite clean, They dream of flowers that nod and play, And fairies dancing on the green. 94 DREAMS But if they've spoken naughty words, Or told a lie, they dream of rats ; Of crawUng snakes, and ugly birds ; Of centipedes, and vampire bats. P^\ f^^ f^^ 95 OH, out in the golden harvest field, How pretty the men and women look, Reaping and winding, lifting and binding ! It's just like a picture you see in a book. 96 IN THE HARVEST-FIELL The reaper wheels are whirring loud ; The coupled horses prancing proud ; The driver swings the rake around ; The ripe grain falls with a sighing sound ; And men and women walk behind, Some to gather and some to bind ; Till sheaves, like partners, row on row, Stand waiting the sweep of the fiddle-bow. So up and down, with faces brown, All in their broad-brimmed hats of straw, Reaping and winding, lifting and binding ! A prettier picture you never saw. 97 ON the beach when the tide is out, The people meet and walk about ; And boys and girls come, spade in hand, To make great burrows in the sand. 98 ON THE BEACH S\''herefore the tide comes twice a day To wash the footprints all away, A.nd leave the sand so smooth and clean, You could not tell where holes had been. A.nd that is how the soft sea sand Is not all ups and downs like land, Where rough and sharp-edged stones are found, While the pebbles here are smooth and round. 99 I'VE read of children very sad, Who live, and not because they're bad, In houses where they do not hear The birdies sing through all the year. CITY SPARROWS They've lots of sparrows, but, poor thing, The sparrow cannot really sing. He only chirps, and twits, and tweets, And all because he lives in streets. For if he came and built his nest, As all the singing birds find best, In hedge or field, ere very long He would have learned to sing a song. lOI CITY SPARROWS So these poor children have not heard The songs of any singing bird, And they can only hear in dreams, The pebbly murmuring of streams. Nor have thep seen the round sun rise, All dripping in the eastern skies ; Nor seen him sinking in the west, Behind the purple hills to rest. The colliers coming from the pit. Seek out a sunny place to sit ; But big-town streets are built so high, They shut the sunshine from the sky. Could God not take these girls and boys Away from all the din and noise Of sunless streets, and set them where They would not breathe in smoke for air ? 102 CITY SPARROWS Here, in the fields they'd romp and run, To hear the birds and see the sun ; Till God would clap His hands and shout, To see His children run about. 103 SLEEFING WORLD. 104 TkE eartli kkh fallen fast asleep- Hills and fifeids bejrond thfe lane ; Ahd the night iia§ happed th^iri deep, In a snoWy ^ountferpanfe. 105 JOHN MALCOLM was the only man The biggest boys in the first class feared We gathered lip our stakes and ran, Whene'er we saw his grisly beard. For, if we played at marble-holes In Malcolm's pend — the grandest place, He'd creep out on his stocking soles To fright us with his hairy face. io6 A PORTRAIT He didn't speak, but looked so dark And fierce at us, we couldn't play ; Just like a dog that doesn't bark, But bites behind, and runs away. Yet, when I lay so ill in bed, John Malcolm came up every night, To ask me what the doctor said And if I had been sleeping right. At last I could sit up a while ; And when he brought a shining ball. And books and toys, I saw him smile. And thought it wasn't John at all. How kind- it was to bring me toys ! But do you know what mother said ? That John had once two little boys Like Rob and me ; but they are dead. 107 CADDIE'S a dog of gentle ways ; He loves a quiet life, and stays Indoors on cold and rainy days. He curls himself up on a chair, His wee legs hidden anywhere ; You only see a mass of hair. io8 CADDIE But speak his name, and then he'll rise And look, with calm and steady eyes, Through tangled locks, supremely wise. And when poor Caddie sits and blinks Before the fire, I know he thinks Of happy days on northern links. For that is where he used to stay ; And still at times he hies away. And sees in dream the golfers play. log ROMANCE I SAW a ship a-sailing, A-sailing on the sea ; Her masts were of the shining gold, Her deck of ivory ; And sails of silk, as soft as milk, And silvern shrouds had she. 113 ROMANCE And round about her sailing, The sea was sparkling white, The waves all clapped their hands and sang, To see so fair a sight. They kissed her twice, they kissed her thrice, And murmured with delight. Then came the gallant captain, And stood upon the deck ; In velvet coat, and ruffles white. Without a spot or speck ; And diamond rings, and triple strings Of pearls around his neck. 114 ROMANCE And four-and-twenty sailors Were round him bowing low ; On every jacket three times three Gold buttons in a row ; And cutlasses down to their knees ; They made a goodly show. And then the ship went sailing, A-sailing o'er the sea ; She dived beyond the setting sun, But never back came she, For she found the lands of the golden sands, Where the pearls and diamonds be. 115 ii6 CHIVALRY Rob upon a clothes-pole, I upon a broom — Back, ye thorny branches, Give our chargers room ! Up and down the garden, Round and round the green, Knights go forth to battle For their King and Queen. Yonder is a castle, Where a coward knave Keeps a lovely princess Prisoned like a slave. " Ho, ye craven hearted, Cross a sword with me ! " Soon my trusty blade will Bring him to his knee. From the castle riding Back across the green, We shall bear the princess To the King and Queen. 117 CHIVALRY Now a band of robbers Meets us, ten to one. Here is work for heroes, Ere the day be done. Spurring on our chargers. Hand to hand we fight. Off go heads of nettles, Flying left and right. Such a crowd of victims Scattered o'er the green ! So should knights do battle For their King and Queen. ii8 CHIVALRY But before we rested From the bloody fray, Rob reeled from his charger, Threw his sword away ; For a nettle stung him, And the pain was sore ; Wounded in the sword hand. He could fight no more. So we left our chargers Grazing on the green, Where we'd battled bravely For our King and Queen. Then we hurried homeward, Rob in pain and grief ; And I bound his wound up With a docken leaf. But when mother saw it, Blistered, hot, and red, " Wounded, but not vanquished,' That was what she said. And she told how heroes Gloried ta have been Wounded^ fighting bravely For their King and Queen. R0BW50N CKU^^E THE tide has turned ; the End Rock's bare. How fresh its hanging seaweeds show, Inviting us to wade out there And play at Robinson Crusoe ! With knickers pulled above the knees, My handkerchief to catch the wind, I bravely start across the seas, And pull my gallant ship behind. 1 20 ROBINSON CRUSOE We leave Rob standing on the beach, For he must wait his turn to play ; And, after many dangers, reach The island where I'm cast away. I jump ashore, a prisoner now, For here's my gallant bark, a wreck. The billows break against its prow, And seaweed falls across its deck. Then, first of all, I must explore The island ; but I see no sign, Except one print upon the shore Of any other foot than mine. But I discover, clear and cool, The sweetest dulse that one could wish, And whelks and crabs and, in a pool, A shoal of shining silver fish. ROBINSON CRUSOE I build myself a hut close by, With roaring buckies, large and white, Where, through a solen shell, I spy, If there be any sail in sight. Yet silently I move about — For crabs and whelks and fish are dumb Until my jacket inside out Tells Rob on shore it's time to come. And then at last there comes a noise. And not the sound of wind or wave. I see a face, and hear a voice That whispers to me, "White man, save. And when I've led him to a seat. He smacks his lips and asks for food. I run and fetch him dulse to eat, And with his thumb he calls it good. 122 ROBINSON CRUSOE But when we see a score of brown, Fierce cannibals upon our shore, We shoulder guns and shoot them down- And tangles fall to rise no more. At length we put them all to rout, When Friday, looking to the sea. Cries, all at once, " The tide is out," And then we know it's time for tea. 123 TIME 3^ TIDE A SCHOONER cam' ayont the quay ; An' oh, she was a sicht to see, Wi' silken sails an' masts o' gowd ; Her ropes in threeds o' silver row'd ! Oh, sic a bonny ship as this The waves cam' loupin' keen to kiss ! 124 ■ TIME AND TIDE The skipper stapped upon the deck, A gowden chain about his neck, Wi' strings o' pearlins hanging doun. An' silver buckles on his shoon. '^ Oh, wha shall come an' sail wi' me To sunny lands ayont the sea, Whaur skies are o** the claudless blue, An' summer bides the twalmonth through. '^ Come, sign, an' sail across the main, Ye'U ne'er hae sic a chance again. For a better craft there could na be Than the 'Gowden Opportunity.'" 125 OUR garret has a secret door That hes flat down upon the floor ; And when 5^ou're up and let it slip You'd think you were on board a ship. I^W^^^^^^^ 126 SHIPWRECK So here it is we come and play At sailors, on a rainy day. And when we touch at foreign isles, The raindrops thunder on the tiles. Three masts our ship has, tall and strong, With cross-trees all the way along. We draw the deck in lines of chalk, That show how far it's safe to walk. I am the skipper, because' I know The ports where all the big ships go ; And Rob is mate, and climbs the mast To speak the steamers sailing past. Jack-in-the-box and a wooden horse Are men before the mast, of course May's doll is cook— her second best- With empty reels for all the rest. SHIPWRECK Then Rob astride the cross-trees cries, His hand held out above his eyes : "There's rocks upon the weather bow. Too late, too late ! She's on them now. And when our gallant ship's a wreck, We haul the chests about the deck. Then falling down upon the floor, We swim until we reach the shore. There, sitting down to count the crew, We find that all are drowned but two. Of those who sailed across the sea. There's no one saved but Rob and rr^ rAIKTL:;\MD ON a sunny summer da}', When the very wind was warm, Little Nellie walked away, With a basket on her arm ; Past the fields and through the wood, Till she reached an open place, Where in wonder Nellie stood, With the sunlight on her face. I2g FAIRYLAND For it was a lovely sight Nellie saw that summer noon : Roses red and roses white, All the flowers of rosy June. Daisies from their slender stems Gazed up to the glorious sun ; Dewdrops lay like little gems In the eyes of every one. Golden buttercups were there, Pinks with kingly coronets ; While the perfume in the air J Told of hiding violets. 130 FAIRYLAND Grass and trees were fresh' and green, Blossoms white and red and blue ; Flowers that she had never seen, Fairer than the flowers she knew. What a wondrous spot it was, Lovelier than tongue can tell ! ''Beautiful," she said, -'because This is where the fairies dwell. And she heard the birds and bees, Filling all the air with song ; While a brook among the trees Wimpled sweetly all day long. "Bees, oh, tell me, as you hum, Tell me, if you understand — Have I really, really come To the gates of Fairyland?" 131 FAIRYLAND But the birds and bees flew by, Singing, humming, every one ; And a golden butterfly Fluttered gaily in the sun. Then a cloud rose slowly up, Roses sighed and winds grew cold ; Daisy, pink, and buttercup Lost their silver and their gold. 132 r nrmLENTi 133 MY VALENTINE I wrote as neat As I could do The honey's sweet And so are you. And then made crosses in a line, For kisses on her valentine. Then must I say What none should miss : And so are they Who send you this. And every word was written fine Upon her pretty valentine. And last, how sweet To say to Cis, And when we meet We'll have a kiss. Now I shall write her name and mine, And take to her my valentine. 134 MY VALENTINE But when I got To Cissy from, I made a blot Instead of Tom. And big tears fell on every line ; So Cissy lost her valentine. 135 136 137 ^M:m- •T9 KPB W^D may: • DEAR May, you're quite a lady now, Of quiet speech and placid brow. But still I look and recognise The May of childhood in your eyes. And so your eyes may read my rhymes, And see again those happy times, When skies were always bright and clear. And days of sunshine filled the year. 139 TO ROB AND MAY And Rob, who sailed to other lands, But never found the golden sands We saw in dream in bygone days, May stumble on them in these lays ; Then close the book and play with me A dream-span by our sunny sea. 140 1AM gathering up to take a trip To London Town, to London Town. The cheapest way is to go by ship To far-away London Town. But quicker it is to go by rail ; So steaming away o'er hill and dale, I shall speed as fast as the Royal Mail To famous London Town. 141 TO BESSIE I cannot come whenever I will To London Town, to London Town. Or I'd stand to-morrow on Denmark Hill, In far-away London Town. For, oh, it's there that I fain would be ! Where a little lass that I long to see Is watching and waiting to welcome me To famous London Town. But I'm coming up to print a book In London Town, in London Town; That will bring the songs of bird and brook To far-away London Town. And when it comes 5 from the printing press I'll send it straight to the good Queen Bess And Denmark Hill is my Queen's address, In famous London Town. 142 TO BESSIE And she shall read her name in verse In London Town, in London Town; And the names of little friends of hers Far away from London Town. But when I come I mustn't miss A great reward for doing this — A kiss of greeting and a good-bye kiss From Bessie in London Town. 143 DEAR May and Mary, here's a book Of songs for little boys and girls, Where older folks in vain may look For grains of gold or goodly pearls. For grown-up people, being dull, Will only see the lines and words, Where bright-eyed little ones may cull The flowers and hear the songs of birds. 144 TO MAY AND MARY ~it/ir>; And so I send this book to you, Whose hearts are pure, whose eyes are clear ; And when you've read it through and through You'll find your own names printed here. And one of you will criticise, And pick and choose and pass and praise; The other one, with dreamy eyes, Will see a world of summer days. 145 TO MAY AND MARY And in your cosy bed at night The one will hear my songs in bars Of music ; while on wings of light The other glides among the stars ; And on, and on, and on, she'll float, Until she reach the Milky Way, Returning in a moonbeam boat, And wakening on the rim of day. 146 AUMTIE DEAR Auntie, in the afternoon, When you sit down to read and rest, Perchance you'll hear the embers croon The rhymes of mine you liked the best ; 147 TO AUNTIE Until you close your eyes in dreams, And see some far-off August morn, Two little lads who trudge from Wemyss, To stay with Auntie in Kinghorn. 148 TO ttie: B)9TS OF BAKNCKAIC. ALONG the old familiar shore I walked as in the days gone by, Vnd heard the waves sing as of yore, When life was young and "hopes were high. 149 TO THE BOYS OF BARNCRAIG And through the Hnks the footpath wound, Unchanged as to our boyhood's feet, Beyond the Lady's Rock, and round The caves and down to Milly's seat, Where children climb and romp and race, And every one comes to recall A far-away, familiar face, Though I'm a stranger to them all. They play their games with rules, and rhymes From other days and other boys ; 1 hear a clinking phrase at times. And start to recognise the voice. So resting here, I see again A score of schoolboys trudging by ; And hear them laugh and shout, as when They played with Time and let it fly. They march away to war in fun, Behind a ragged lad, who looks A hero in the eyes of one Who tells them stories out of books. tso TO THE BOYS OF BARNCRAIG I see the cannon where we played At soldiers, when we beat the Czar ; The wreck still lies where once we made Our gallant fight at Trafalgar. There Nelson led us in the fight, And swung his books around his head Then hurling them with all his might, He left a "hundred Frenchmen dead. And heedless of his boots and socks, He plunged into the dub and chased The flying ships against the rocks, Until the water touched his waist. The years go by ; I watch them still, And see how thin our ranks have grown. For one by one they go, until I'm left to trudge the road alone. 151 TO THE BOYS OF BARNCRAIG For they had lives to live, and went To pit and bench, to board and stool ; But I'd to live in books, and spent The wasted years of youth at school. Now, thinking of you all to-day, And of your full and healthy lives, I see in dream your children play. And hear the prattle of your wives. And if at all you think of him Who once was of you, or at times. Perchance, when day is growing dim, Remember snatches of his rhymes ; Then call your children round, and read Some verses from these simple lays, And so perhaps they'll win the meed He cannot find them — childhood's praise. 152 TO THE BOYS OF BARNCRAIG ^ For you have wives with smiling looks, And happy children all your own ; But he who told you tales from books Lives in his book-world yet, alone. 153 r\EAR children, living everywhere, *-^ In country lane, in street, or square, I would that I might take your hand, And lead you into Fairyland, Where life is all a sunny day, And summer lasts from May to May ; Where woods and fields are green and fair, And songs of gladness fill the air ; For birds and flowers and everything That lives has got a song to sing. 154 TO ALL CHILDREN And here three little children dwell, Far happier than tongue can tell ; Through wood and vale and field they roam, For Fairyland is all their home. The birds come to them when they call, And lambs and sheep, they know them all ; And winds and trees and bays and brooks These children have for lesson books. Oh, joyous is the life they spend, Where every flower is their friend. Oh, children, I would take your hand, And lead you to that Fairyland; Where childhood's still a world of dream. With songs of bird and wind and stream. And should you read this book and stay Where those three happy children play, Though only for an hour it be, The book will bless both you and me. ■(T 155 156 157 158 SD 1 0. 9. O . ^ c " " * ^ - . - - G* o ^ ° " ° A VJ ^^ '/% "'Ws /% '^^0^ .0^ LIBRARY BINDING oV V^ ''.^^^V^/ 'V^ ^ JAN -69 ^'\^. R. ,^^ <'°JL'^ ^^^ " •ST. AUGUSTINE s^f^(^>% ^^ *^^ Z^^^^- %.