Obrázky stránek
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

That led me through the uneven land:
For all the story-books you read:
For all the pains you comforted:
For all you pitied, all you bore,
In sad and happy days of yore:
My second Mother, my first Wife,
The angel of my infant life

From the sick child, now well and old,
Take, nurse, the little book you hold!

And grant it, Heaven, that all who read
May find as dear a nurse at need,
And every child who lists my rhyme,
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
May hear it in as kind a voice

As made my childish days rejoice!

R. L. S.

A CHILD'S GARDEN

OF VERSES

I

BED IN SUMMER

N 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 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?

II

A THOUGHT

T is very nice to think

I'

The world is full of meat and drink, With little children saying grace

In every Christian kind of place.

III

AT THE SEA-SIDE

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.

« PředchozíPokračovat »