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A Child's Garden of Verses

Chapter 15: Looking Forward
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About This Book

A compact volume of short lyric poems that captures everyday moments of childhood—bedtime and dreams, play and make-believe, seaside and country scenes, seasons and domestic life—using simple rhythms and vivid sensory detail. Ordinary objects and settings are imaginatively transformed, with beds becoming ships, gardens turning into kingdoms, and shadows acting as companions. Recurring themes include wonder at nature, solace in solitary play or illness, and the passage from daytime activity into the realm of sleep. Poems are arranged in varied groupings that move between solitary fancy, garden days, and brief dedicatory envois, shifting tone between playful delight and quiet reflection.

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Title: A Child's Garden of Verses

Author: Robert Louis Stevenson

Illustrator: Charles Robinson

Release date: May 26, 2008 [eBook #25610]
Most recently updated: August 8, 2019

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Jason Isbell, Christine D. and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was made using scans of public domain works in the
International Children's Digital Library.)

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19722(Published in 1916; Black and White illustrations by M. Sheldon)
25608 (Published in 1905; Single Tone illustratons by B. C. Pease)
25609 (Published in 1905; Illustrations in Color by J. W. Smith)
25610 (Published in 1895; Black and White illustrations by C.Robins)
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25617 (Published in 1900; Illustrations in Color by Mars and Squire)
28722 (Published in 1919; Illustrations in Color by Maria L. Kirk)

A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES

ROBERT LOVIS STEVENSON

EDINBVRGH.      VAILIMA
1850                1894

A CHILD'S
GARDEN OF
VERSES

BY ROBERT LOVIS
STEVENSON

ILLVSTRATED—BY
CHARLES
ROBINSON.

NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S
SONS

LONDON:
IOHN LANE.

1895

Copyright 1895, by Charles Scribner's Sons

All rights reserved

TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM
FROM HER BOY

   FOR THE LONG NIGHTS YOU LAY AWAKE
AND WATCHED FOR MY UNWORTHY SAKE:
FOR YOUR MOST COMFORTABLE HAND
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.


CONTENTS

Bed in SummerPage 3
A Thought5
At the Seaside6
Young Night Thought7
Whole Duty of Children9
Rain10
Pirate Story11
Foreign Lands13
Windy Nights15
Travel17
Singing20
Looking Forward21
A Good Play22
Where Go the Boats?24
Auntie's SkirtsPage 26
The Land of Counterpane27
The Land of Nod29
My Shadow32
System34
A Good Boy36
Escape at Bedtime38
Marching Song40
The Cow42
Happy Thought44
The Wind45
Keepsake Mill47
Good and Bad Children49
Foreign Children51
The Sun's Travels53
The Lamplighter55
My Bed is a Boat57
The Moon59
The Swing62
Time to Rise64
Looking-Glass River65
Fairy Bread67
From a Railway Carriage68
Winter-Time70
The Hayloft72
Farewell to the Farm74
North-West Passage
1. Good NightPage  76
2. Shadow March77
3. In Port78
THE CHILD ALONE
The Unseen Playmate81
My Ship and I83
My Kingdom85
Picture Books in Winter87
My Treasures89
Block City91
The Land of Story-Books93
Armies in the Fire95
The Little Land97
GARDEN DAYS
Night and DayPage 103
Nest Eggs107
The Flowers110
Summer Sun112
The Dumb Soldier114
Autumn Fires117
The Gardener119
Historical Associations121
ENVOYS
To Willie and Henrietta125
To my Mother127
To Auntie128
To Minnie129
To my Name-Child133
To any Reader136

A CHILD'S
GARDEN of
Verses


Copyright 1895, by Charles Scribner's Sons


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?


A Thought.

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.


At The Seaside.

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.


Young Night Thought.

 All night long and every night,
When my mamma puts out the light,
I see the people marching by,
As plain as day, before my eye.
Armies and emperors 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.

At first they move a little slow,
But still the faster on they go,
And still beside them close I keep
Until we reach the town of Sleep.
THE TOWN OF SLEEP


WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN

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.


RAIN

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


PIRATE STORY


Foreign Lands

Up into the cherry tree
Who should climb but little me?
I held the trunk with both my hands
And looked abroad on foreign lands.
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 roads on either hand
Lead onward into fairy land,
Where all the children dine at five,
And all the playthings come alive.


Windy Nights

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.


TRAVELS

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 bell and voice 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 comer-by be seen
Swinging in a 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.


SINGING

  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.
OF SPECKLED EGGS THE BIRDIE SINGS.


Looking Forward

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.


A Good Play.


WHERE GO THE BOATS?


Auntie's Skirts

Whenever Auntie moves around,
Her dresses make a curious sound,
They trail behind her up the floor,
And trundle after through the door.


The Land of Counterpane.


The Land of Nod

     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.

"Up the mountain sides of dreams."

The strangest things are there 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.


MY SHADOW

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.
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 beside 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.