I'd sit in the middle,

And hold by both ends.

Oh, what a bright cradle 'twould be!

I would call to the stars

To keep out of the way,

Lest we should rock over their toes;

And then I would rock

Till the dawn of the day

And see where the pretty moon goes.

And there we would stay

In the beautiful skies,

And through the bright clouds we would roam.

We would see the sun set

And see the sun rise,

And, on the next rainbow, come home.

екв

Green leaves a-floating
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine - 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.

From "A Child's Garden of Verses," copyright, 1895, by Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE WIND

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

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.

From "A Child's Garden of Verses," copyright, 1895, by Charles Scribner's Sons.

L

FOREIGN CHILDREN

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

ITTLE Indian, Sioux or Crow,

Little frosty Eskimo,

Little Turk or Japanee,

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

You have seen the scarlet trees

And the lions overseas;

You have eaten ostrich eggs,

And turned the turtles off their legs.

Such a life is very fine,

But it's not so nice as mine;

CH. LIT. I.—3