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,

I with your marble of Saturday last, Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled, Here we shall meet and remember the

past.

GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN

HILDREN, 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.

L

FOREIGN CHILDREN

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 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 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 beyond the foam,
But I am safe and live at home.

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,

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 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 from tea,
Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea;
And all the children in the West
Are getting up and being dressed.

THE LAMPLIGHTER

MY
Mhas left the sky;

Y tea is nearly ready and the sun

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;