作者--史蒂文斯
I    Bed in Summer
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In
summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear
the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day?

[ 本帖最后由 ououmama 于 2012-3-20 13:03 编辑 ].

It is very nice to think The world is full of meat and drink, With little
children saying grace In every Christian kind of place..

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..

All night long and every night, When my mama puts out the light, I
see the people marching by, As plain as day before my eye.
Armies and emperor and kings, All carrying different kinds of things,
And marching in so grand a way, You never saw the like by day.
So fine a show was never seen At the great circus on the green; For
every kind of beast and man Is marching in that caravan.
As first they move a little slow, But still the faster on they go, And still
beside me close I keep Until we reach the town of Sleep..

A child should always say what's true And speak when he is spoken to,
And behave mannerly at table; At least as far as he is able..

The rain is falling all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the
umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea..

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing, Three of us abroad in
the basket on the lea. Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.
Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat, Wary of the
weather and steering by a star? Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
To Providence, or Babylon or off to Malabar?
Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea-- Cattle on the meadow
a-charging with a roar! Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as
they can be, The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore..

Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the
trunk with both my hands And looked abroad in foreign lands.
I saw the next door garden lie, Adorned with flowers, before my eye,
And many pleasant places more That I had never seen before.
I saw the dimpling river pass And be the sky's blue looking-glass; The
dusty roads go up and down With people tramping in to town.
If I could find a higher tree Farther and farther I should see, To where
the grown-up river slips Into the sea among the ships,
To where the road on either hand Lead onward into fairy land, Where
all the children dine at five, And all the playthings come alive..

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. 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..

I should like to rise and go Where the golden apples grow;-- Where
below another sky Parrot islands anchored lie, And, watched by cockatoos
and goats, Lonely Crusoes building boats;-- Where in sunshine reaching
out Eastern cities, miles about, Are with mosque and minaret Among
sandy gardens set, And the rich goods from near and far Hang for sale in
the bazaar;-- Where the Great Wall round China goes, And on one side the
desert blows, And with the voice and bell and drum, Cities on the other
hum;-- Where are forests hot as fire, Wide as England, tall as a spire, Full
of apes and cocoa-nuts And the negro hunters' huts;-- Where the knotty
crocodile Lies and blinks in the Nile, And the red flamingo flies Hunting
fish before his eyes;-- Where in jungles near and far, Man-devouring tigers
are, Lying close and giving ear Lest the hunt be drawing near, Or a comerby
be seen Swinging in the palanquin;-- Where among the desert sands
Some deserted city stands, All its children, sweep and prince, Grown to
manhood ages since, Not a foot in street or house, Not a stir of child or
mouse, And when kindly falls the night, In all the town no spark of light.
There I'll come when I'm a man With a camel caravan; Light a fire in the
gloom Of some dusty dining-room; See the pictures on the walls, Heroes
fights and festivals; And in a corner find the toys Of the old Egyptian
boys..

Of speckled eggs the birdie sings And nests among the trees; The
sailor sings of ropes and things In ships upon the seas.
The children sing in far Japan, The children sing in Spain; The organ
with the organ man Is singing in the rain..

When I am grown to man's estate I shall be very proud and great, And
tell the other girls and boys Not to meddle with my toys..

We built a ship upon the stairs All made of the back-bedroom chairs,
And filled it full of soft pillows To go a-sailing on the billows.
We took a saw and several nails, And water in the nursery pails; And
Tom said, "Let us also take An apple and a slice of cake;"-- Which was
enough for Tom and me To go a-sailing on, till tea.
We sailed along for days and days, And had the very best of plays; But
Tom fell out and hurt his knee, So there was no one left but me..

Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-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..

When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all
my toys beside me lay, To keep me happy all the day.
And sometimes for an hour or so I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills, Among the bed-clothes, through the
hills;
And sometimes sent my ships in fleets All up and down among the
sheets; Or brought my trees and houses out, And planted cities all about.
I was the giant great and still That sits upon the pillow-hill, And sees
before him, dale and plain, The pleasant land of counterpane..

From breakfast on through all the day At home among my friends I
stay, But every night I go abroad Afar into the land of Nod.
All by myself I have to go, With none to tell me what to do-- All alone
beside the streams And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
The strangest things are these for me, Both things to eat and things to
see, And many frightening sights abroad Till morning in the land of Nod.
Try as I like to find the way, I never can get back by day, Nor can
remember plain and clear The curious music that I hear..

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be
the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the
heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my
bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-- Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots
up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes goes 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 behind 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
sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed..

Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every
day that I've been good, I get an orange after food.
The child that is not clean and neat, With lots of toys and things to eat,
He is a naughty child, I'm sure-- Or else his dear papa is poor..

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 be 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.
But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn, And hear the
thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn..

The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out Through the blinds
and the windows and bars; And high overhead and all moving about, There were thousands of millions of stars. There ne'er were such
thousands of leaves on a tree, Nor of people in church or the Park, As the
crowds of the stars that looked down upon me, And that glittered and
winked in the dark.
The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all, And the star of the
sailor, and Mars, These shown in the sky, and the pail by the wall Would
be half full of water and stars. They saw me at last, and they chased me
with cries, And they soon had me packed into bed; But the glory kept
shining and bright in my eyes, And the stars going round in my head..

Bring the comb and play upon it! Marching, here we come! Willie
cocks his highland bonnet, Johnnie beats the drum.
Mary Jane commands the party, Peter leads the rear; Feet in time, alert
and hearty, Each a Grenadier!
All in the most martial manner Marching double-quick; While the
napkin, like a banner, Waves upon the stick!
Here's enough of fame and pillage, Great commander Jane! Now that
we've been round the village, Let's go home again..

The friendly cow all red and white, I love with all my heart: She gives
me cream with all her might, To eat with apple-tart.
She wanders lowing here and there, And yet she cannot stray, All in
the pleasant open air, The pleasant light of day;
And blown by all the winds that pass And wet with all the showers,
She walks among the meadow grass And eats the meadow flowers..

The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as
happy as kings..

I 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, ablowing
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, ablowing
all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!.

Over 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 a mill with the humming of thunder, Here is the weir with the
wonder of foam, Here is the sluice with the race running under--
Marvellous places, though handy to home!
Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller, Stiller the note of the
birds on the hill; Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller, Deaf are his
ears with the moil of the mill.
Years may go by, and the wheel in the river Wheel as it wheels for us,
children, to-day, Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever Long after
all of the boys are away.
Home for the Indies and home from the ocean, Heroes and soldiers we
all will 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, I with your marble
of Saturday last, Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled, Here we shall
meet and remember the past..

Children, you are very little, 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.
But the unkind and the unruly, And the sort who eat unduly, They must
never hope for glory-- Theirs is quite a different story!
Cruel children, crying babies, All grow up as geese and gabies, Hated,
as their age increases, By their nephews and their nieces..

Little Indian, Sioux, or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or
Japanee, Oh! 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 turtle off their legs.
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 upon the foam, But I am safe and live at home. Little Indian, Sioux
or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! don't you wish
that you were me?.

The sun is not a-bed, when I 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, We round the sunny garden play,
Each little Indian sleepy-head Is being kissed and put to bed.
And when at eve I rise form tea, Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea;
And all the children in the west Are getting up and being dressed..

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky. It's time to take the
window to see Leerie going by; For every night at teatime and before you
take your seat, With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the
street.
Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea, And my papa's a
banker and as rich as he can be; But I, when I am stronger and can choose
what I'm to do, O Leerie, I'll go round at night and light the lamps with
you!
For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door, And Leerie stops
to light it as he lights so many more; And oh! before you hurry by with
ladder and with light; O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!.

My bed is like a little boat; Nurse helps me in when I embark; She
girds me in my sailor's coat And starts me in the dark.
At night I go on board and say Good-night to all my friends on shore; I
shut my eyes and sail away And see and hear no more.
And sometimes things to bed I take, As prudent sailors have to do;
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake, Perhaps a toy or two.
All night across the dark we steer; But when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room beside the pier, I find my vessel fast..

The moon has a face like the
clock in the hall; She shines on thieves on the garden wall, On streets
and fields and harbour quays, And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.
The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse, The howling dog by the
door of the house, The bat that lies in bed at noon, All love to be out by the
light of the moon.
But all of the things that belong to the day Cuddle to sleep to be out of
her way; And flowers and children close their eyes Till up in the morning
the sun shall arise..

Faster than fairies, faster than witches, Bridges and houses, hedges and
ditches; And charging along like troops in a battle All through the
meadows the horses and cattle: All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, Painted
stations whistle by. Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, All by
himself and gathering brambles; Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies! Here is a cart runaway in
the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill, and there
is a river: Each a glimpse and gone forever!.

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but
an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the dark I rise; And
shivering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit To warm my frozen bones a bit; Or with a
reindeer-sled, explore The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap Me in my comforter and cap; The
cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding cake..

Through all the pleasant meadow-side The grass grew shoulder-high,
Till the shining scythes went far and wide And cut it down to dry.
Those green and sweetly smelling crops They led the waggons home;
And they piled them here in mountain tops For mountaineers to roam.
Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail, Mount Eagle and Mount
High;-- The mice that in these mountains dwell, No happier are than I!
Oh, what a joy to clamber there, Oh, what a place for play, With the
sweet, the dim, the dusty air, The happy hills of hay!.

The coach is at the door
at last; The eager children, mounting fast And kissing hands, in chorus
sing: Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!
To house and garden, field and lawn, The meadow-gates we swang
upon, To pump and stable, tree and swing, Good-bye, good-bye, to
everything!
And fare you well for evermore, O ladder at the hayloft door, O
hayloft where the cobwebs cling, Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!
Crack goes the whip, and off we go; The trees and houses smaller
grow; Last, round the woody turn we sing: Good-bye, good-bye, to
everything!.

1. Good-night
Then the bright lamp is carried in, The sunless hours again begin; O'er
all without, in field and lane, The haunted night returns again.
Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth; and see Our
faces painted as we pass, Like pictures, on the window glass.
Must we to bed indeed? Well then, Let us arise and go like men, And
face with an undaunted tread The long black passage up to bed.
Farewell, O brother, sister, sire! O pleasant party round the fire! The
songs you sing, the tales you tell, Till far to-morrow, fare you well!
2. Shadow March
All around the house is the jet-black night; It stares through the
window-pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, And it moves
with the moving flame.
Now my little heart goes a beating like a drum, With the breath of the
Bogies in my hair; And all around the candle and the crooked shadows
come, And go marching along up the stair.
The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp, The shadow of
the child that goes to bed-- All the wicked shadows coming tramp, tramp, tramp, With the black night overhead.
3. In Port
Last, to the chamber where I lie My fearful footsteps patter nigh, And
come out from the cold and gloom Into my warm and cheerful room.
There, safe arrived, we turn about To keep the coming shadows out,
And close the happy door at last On all the perils that we past.
Then, when mamma goes by to bed, She shall come in with tip-toe
tread, And see me lying warm and fast And in the land of Nod at last..

I The Unseen Playmate
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.
He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass, He sings when you tinkle
the musical glass; Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why, The Friend
of the Children is sure to be by!
He loves to be little, he hates to be big, 'T is he that inhabits the caves
that you dig; 'T is he when you play with your soldiers of tin That sides
with the Frenchmen and never can win.
'T is he, when at night you go off to your bed, Bids you go to sleep and
not trouble your head; For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf, 'T
is he will take care of your playthings himself!.

II My Ship and I
O it's I that am the captain of a tidy little ship, Of a ship that goes a
sailing on the pond; And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all
about; But when I'm a little older, I shall find the secret out How to send
my vessel sailing on beyond.
For I mean to grow a little as the dolly at the helm, And the dolly I
intend to come alive; And with him beside to help me, it's a-sailing I shall
go, It's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes blow And the vessel
goes a dive-dive-dive.
O it's then you'll see me sailing through the rushes and the reeds, And
you'll hear the water singing at the prow; For beside the dolly sailor, I'm to
voyage and explore, To land upon the island where no dolly was before,
And to fire the penny cannon in the bow..

III My Kingdom
Down by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than
my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming
out, Some yellow and some red.
I called the little pool a sea; The little hills were big to me; For I am
very small. I made a boat, I made a town, I searched the caverns up and
down, And named them one and all.
And all about was mine, I said, The little sparrows overhead, The little
minnows too. This was the world and I was king; For me the bees came by
to sing, For me the swallows flew.
I played there were no deeper seas, Nor any wider plains than these,
Nor other kings than me. At last I heard my mother call Out from the
house at evenfall, To call me home to tea.
And I must rise and leave my dell, And leave my dimpled water well,
And leave my heather blooms. Alas! and as my home I neared, How very
big my nurse appeared. How great and cool the rooms!.

IV Picture-books in Winter
Summer fading, winter comes-- Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Window robins, winter rooks, And the picture story-books.
Water now is turned to stone Nurse and I can walk upon; Still we find
the flowing brooks In the picture story-books.
All the pretty things put by, Wait upon the children's eye, Sheep and
shepherds, trees and crooks, In the picture story-books.
We may see how all things are Seas and cities, near and far, And the
flying fairies' looks, In the picture story-books.
How am I to sing your praise, Happy chimney-corner days, Sitting
safe in nursery nooks, Reading picture story-books?.

V My Treasures
These nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest, Where all my tin
soldiers are lying at rest, Were gathered in Autumn by nursie and me In a
wood with a well by the side of the sea.
This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds!) By the side of a
field at the end of the grounds. Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my
own, It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone!
The stone, with the white and the yellow and grey, We discovered I
cannot tell HOW far away; And I carried it back although weary and cold,
For though father denies it, I'm sure it is gold.
But of all my treasures the last is the king, For there's very few
children possess such a thing; And that is a chisel, both handle and blade,
Which a man who was really a carpenter made..

VI Block City
What are you able to build with your blocks? Castles and palaces,
temples and docks. Rain may keep raining, and others go roam, But I can
be happy and building at home.
Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea, There I'll establish a city
for me: A kirk and a mill and a palace beside, And a harbour as well where
my vessels may ride.
Great is the palace with pillar and wall, A sort of a tower on the top of
it all, And steps coming down in an orderly way To where my toy vessels
lie safe in the bay.
This one is sailing and that one is moored: Hark to the song of the
sailors aboard! And see, on the steps of my palace, the kings Coming and
going with presents and things!
Yet as I saw it, I see it again, The kirk and the palace, the ships and the
men, And as long as I live and where'er I may be, I'll always remember my
town by the sea..

VII 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, All in my hunter's camp I lie,
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.
I see the others far away As if in firelit camp they lay, And I, like to an
Indian scout, Around their party prowled about.
So when my nurse comes in for me, Home I return across the sea, And
go to bed with backward looks At my dear land of Story-books..

VIII Armies in the Fire
The lamps now glitter down the street; Faintly sound the falling feet;
And the blue even slowly falls About the garden trees and walls.
Now in the falling of the gloom The red fire paints the empty room:
And warmly on the roof it looks, And flickers on the back of books.
Armies march by tower and spire Of cities blazing, in the fire;-- Till as
I gaze with staring eyes, The armies fall, the lustre dies.
Then once again the glow returns; Again the phantom city burns; And
down the red-hot valley, lo! The phantom armies marching go!
Blinking embers, tell me true Where are those armies marching to,
And what the burning city is That crumbles in your furnaces!.

IX The Little Land
When at home alone I sit And am very tired of it, I have just to shut
my eyes To go sailing through the skies-- To go sailing far away To the
pleasant Land of Play; To the fairy land afar Where the Little People are;
Where the clover-tops are trees, And the rain-pools are the seas, And the
leaves, like little ships, Sail about on tiny trips; And above the Daisy tree
Through the grasses, High o'erhead the Bumble Bee Hums and passes.
In that forest to and fro I can wander, I can go; See the spider and the
fly, And the ants go marching by, Carrying parcels with their feet Down
the green and grassy street. I can in the sorrel sit Where the ladybird alit. I
can climb the jointed grass And on high See the greater swallows pass In
the sky, And the round sun rolling by Heeding no such things as I.
Through that forest I can pass Till, as in a looking-glass, Humming fly
and daisy tree And my tiny self I see, Painted very clear and neat On the
rain-pool at my feet. Should a leaflet come to land Drifting near to where I
stand, Straight I'll board that tiny boat Round the rain-pool sea to float.
Little thoughtful creatures sit On the grassy coasts of it; Little things
with lovely eyes See me sailing with surprise. Some are clad in armour
green-- (These have sure to battle been!)-- Some are pied with ev'ry hue,
Black and crimson, gold and blue; Some have wings and swift are gone;--
But they all look kindly on.
When my eyes I once again Open, and see all things plain: High bare
walls, great bare floor; Great big knobs on drawer and door; Great big
people perched on chairs, Stitching tucks and mending tears, Each a hill
that I could climb, And talking nonsense all the time-- O dear me, That I
could be A sailor on a the rain-pool sea, A climber in the clover tree, And
just come back a sleepy-head, Late at night to go to bed..

I Night and Day
When the golden day is done, Through the closing portal, Child and
garden, Flower and sun, Vanish all things mortal.
As the blinding shadows fall As the rays diminish, Under evening's
cloak they all Roll away and vanish.
Garden darkened, daisy shut, Child in bed, they slumber-- Glow-worm
in the hallway rut, Mice among the lumber.
In the darkness houses shine, Parents move the candles; Till on all the
night divine Turns the bedroom handles.
Till at last the day begins In the east a-breaking, In the hedges and the
whins Sleeping birds a-waking.
In the darkness shapes of things, Houses, trees and hedges, Clearer
grow; and sparrow's wings Beat on window ledges.
These shall wake the yawning maid; She the door shall open-- Finding
dew on garden glade And the morning broken.
There my garden grows again Green and rosy painted, As at eve
behind the pane From my eyes it fainted.
Just as it was shut away, Toy-like, in the even, Here I see it glow with
day Under glowing heaven.
Every path and every plot, Every blush of roses, Every blue forget-menot
Where the dew reposes,
"Up!" they cry, "the day is come On the smiling valleys: We have beat
the morning drum; Playmate, join your allies!".

II Nest Eggs
Birds all the summer day Flutter and quarrel Here in the arbour-like
Tent of the laurel.
Here in the fork The brown nest is seated; For little blue eggs The
mother keeps heated.
While we stand watching her Staring like gabies, Safe in each egg are
the Bird's little babies.
Soon the frail eggs they shall Chip, and upspringing Make all the April
woods Merry with singing.
Younger than we are, O children, and frailer, Soon in the blue air
they'll be, Singer and sailor.
We, so much older, Taller and stronger, We shall look down on the
Birdies no longer.
They shall go flying With musical speeches High overhead in the Tops
of the beeches.
In spite of our wisdom And sensible talking, We on our feet must go
Plodding and walking..

III The Flowers
All the names I know from nurse: Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock, And the Lady Hollyhock.
Fairy places, fairy things, Fairy woods where the wild bee wings, Tiny
trees for tiny dames-- These must all be fairy names!
Tiny woods below whose boughs Shady fairies weave a house; Tiny
tree-tops, rose or thyme, Where the braver fairies climb!
Fair are grown-up people's trees, But the fairest woods are these;
Where, if I were not so tall, I should live for good and all..

IV Summer Sun
Great is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his
rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; And
through the broken edge of tiles Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around He bares to all the garden ground, And sheds a warm and glittering look Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue, Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose, The gardener of the World, he goes..

V The Dumb Soldier
When the grass was closely mown, Walking on the lawn alone, In the
turf a hole I found, And hid a soldier underground.
Spring and daisies came apace; Grasses hid my hiding place; Grasses
run like a green sea O'er the lawn up to my knee.
Under grass alone he lies, Looking up with leaden eyes, Scarlet coat
and pointed gun, To the stars and to the sun.
When the grass is ripe like grain, When the scythe is stoned again,
When the lawn is shaven clear, The my hole shall reappear.
I shall find him, never fear, I shall find my grenadier; But for all that's
gone and come, I shall find my soldier dumb.
He has lived, a little thing, In the grassy woods of spring; Done, if he
could tell me true, Just as I should like to do.
He has seen the starry hours And the springing of the flowers; And the
fairy things that pass In the forests of the grass.
In the silence he has heard Talking bee and ladybird, And the butterfly
has flown O'er him as he lay alone.
Not a word will he disclose, Not a word of all he knows. I must lay
him on the shelf, And make up the tale myself..