KEEPSAKE MILL VER 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, Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller, Years may go by, and the wheel in the river 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, GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN HILDREN, you are very little, CHILD 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, Happy hearts and happy faces, But the unkind and the unruly, Cruel children, crying babies, By their nephews and their nieces. XXVIII FOREIGN CHILDREN ITTLE Indian, Sioux or Crow, L 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 over seas; 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: You have curious things to eat, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, O! don't you wish that you were me? THE SUN'S TRAVELS HE sun is not a-bed, when I THE At night upon my pillow lie; Still round the earth his way he takes, And morning after morning makes. While here at home, in shining day, And when at eve I rise from tea, |