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THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS

91

And while on her pillow she softly lay, She knew nothing more till again it was

day;

And all things said to the beautiful sun, "Good morning, good morning!

work is begun."

Our

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
SCOTLAND, 1850-1894

The Land of Story-books

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.

Now, with my little gun, I crawl,
All in the dark, along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.

There in the night, where none can spy, my hunter's camp

All in

I lie,

5

10

5

And play at books that I have read,
Till it is time to go to bed.

These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;

And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.

So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
10 At my dear land of Story-books.

RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES
(LORD HOUGHTON)

Lady Moon

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you

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"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?"

"All that love me."

WINDY NIGHTS

93

"Are you not tired with rolling and never Resting to sleep?

Why look so pale and so sad, as forever Wishing to weep?"

"Ask me not this, little child, if you love me; 5 You are too bold.

I must obey my dear Father above me,
And do as I'm told."

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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.

15

5

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.

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Little Turk or Japanee,

O! don't you wish that you were me?

You have seen the scarlet trees

And the lions overseas;

15 You have eaten ostrich eggs,

And turned the turtles off their legs.

5

WHAT DOES THE BEE DO

Such a life is very fine,

But it's not so nice as mine:
You must often, as you trod,
Have wearied not to be abroad.

You have curious things to eat,
I am fed on proper meat;

You must dwell beyond the foam,
But I am safe and live at home.

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,

Little frosty Eskimo,

Little Turk or Japanee,

O! don't you wish that you were me?

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10

CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI 1

ENGLAND, 1830-1894

What does the Bee Do?

What does the bee do?
Bring home honey.

And what does Father do?
Bring home money.

1 By courtesy of Little, Brown & Co.

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