XXXIII

THE SWING

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?

Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,

Rivers and trees and cattle and all

Over the countryside

Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown

Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!

XXXIV

TIME TO RISE

A BIRDIE with a yellow bill

Hopped upon the window sill,

Cocked his shining eye and said:

"Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head!"

XXXV

LOOKING-GLASS RIVER

SMOOT

MOOTH it slides upon its travel,
Here a wimple, there a gleam —
O the clean gravel!

O the smooth stream!

Sailing blossoms, silver fishes,
Paven pools as clear as air
How a child wishes

To live down there!

We can see our coloured faces
Floating on the shaken pool
Down in cool places,
Dim and very cool;

Till a wind or water wrinkle,
Dipping marten, plumping trout,
Spreads in a twinkle

And blots all out.

See the rings pursue each other;
All below grows black as night,
Just as if mother

Had blown out the light!

Patience, children, just a minute
See the spreading circles die;
The stream and all in it
Will clear by-and-by.

XXXVI

FAIRY BREAD

OME up here, O dusty feet!
Here is fairy bread to eat.

Here in my retiring room,

Children, you may dine
On the golden smell of broom
And the shade of pine;
And when you have eaten well,
Fairy stories hear and tell.

FA

XXXVII

FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE

ASTER 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 there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone for ever!

L

XXXVIII

WINTER-TIME

ATE 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.

THR

XXXIX

THE HAYLOFT

HROUGH all the pleasant meadow-side
The grass grew shoulder-high,

Till the shining scythes went far and wide
And cut it down to dry.

These green and sweetly smelling crops
They led in 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!

O what a joy to clamber there,

O what a place for play,

With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air,

The happy hills of hay!