The Singing Leaves | Project Gutenberg

THE LITTLE PAST.

JOURNEY.

I never saw the hills so far

And blue, the way the pictures are;

And flowers, flowers growing thick,

But not a one for me to pick!

The land was running from the train

All blurry through the window-pane;

And then it all looked flat and still,

When up there jumped a little hill!

I saw the windows and the spires,

And sparrows sitting on the wires;

And fences running up and down;

And then we cut straight through a town.

I saw a Valley, like a cup;

And ponds that twinkled, and dried up.

I counted meadows that were burnt;

And there were trees, and then there weren’t!

We crossed the bridges with a roar,

Then hummed the way we went before.

And tunnels made it dark and light

Like open-work of day and night;

Until I saw the chimneys rise,

And lights and lights and lights, like eyes.

And when they took me through the door,

I heard it all begin to roar.—

I thought, as far as I could see,

That everybody wanted me!

SUNSET.

Those islands far away are mine,
Beyond the cloudy strip;
And something beautiful, besides:—
I think it is a ship.

THE BUSY CHILD.

I have so many things to do,

I don’t know when I shall be through.

To-day I had to watch the rain

Come sliding down the window-pane.

And I was humming all the time,

Around my head, a kind of rhyme;

And blowing softly on the glass

To see the dimness come and pass.

I made a picture, with my breath

Rubbed out to show the underneath.

I built a city on the floor;

And then I went and was a War.

And I escaped from square to square

That’s greenest on the carpet there,

Until at last I came to Us;

But it was very dangerous:

Because if I had stepped outside,

I made believe I should have died!

And now I have the boat to mend,

And all our supper to pretend.

I am so busy, every day,

I haven’t any time to play.

CONCERNING LOVE.

I wish she would not ask me if I love the Kitten more than her.

Of course I love her. But I love the Kitten too: and It has fur.

COW-BELLS.

O what is there behind the hills,
That all of the bells must know?—
Over in all the light that fills
The Valley with that glow?

I followed a bell, and it all came true:
Some down, and a yellow-bird;
And Cedars—oh!—and specked with blue;
And everything else I heard:

Only whatever it is, behind
The bell with the farthest call;
The one I follow and never find,
—The loveliest one of all.

WIND.

I let them call it just the Wind
And tell me not to grieve:
But I know all it left behind,
And more than they believe.

I know about the far-off lands
Where people never sleep;
They hide their faces in their hands,
And rock and weep and weep.

And I too little, all alone,
To go and find them yet:—
But oh, I hear!—When I am grown,
I never will forget.

THE MYSTIC.

People say to me,
‘A Penny for your thought!’
And I can’t remember thinking;
And I should think I ought.
I wasn’t sleeping, either:
I know that, because
I saw things out of both my eyes.
I wonder where I was.

Now I’m back, I see them
Sitting all around;
And the noise together
Makes a purring sound.
But I know something more
Than just awhile ago.
I know something more!—
I wonder what I know.

THE MASTERPIECE.

My mother cut it out for me
And started it so I could see;
And then she turned some edges in
And let me take it to begin.
I made it. But I did not know
How very hard it is to sew.
I took a long time for that stitch,
And now it’s there, I don’t know which
Is better. But not one is small,
And they are not alike at all.
That side was very hard to fix;
And then the needle always pricks,
But you must hold it and take care,
Because the point is always there.
And knots keep coming, by and by;
And then, no matter how you try,
The thread comes out of its old eye.

· · · · ·

But someway, now I have it done,—

I think it is a pretty one.

LATE.

My father brought somebody up,
To show us all asleep.
They came as softly up the stairs
As you could creep.

They whispered in the doorway there
And looked at us awhile.
I had my eyes shut up, but I
Could feel him smile.

I shut my eyes up close, and lay
As still as I could keep;
Because I knew he wanted us
To be asleep.

CAKES AND ALE.

I’m always glad when Andrew comes.
If only I am there,
He stays awhile and talks to me
As if he did not care.

He took me to some Music once,
When it was all for me:
And O, I had a splendid time!
And he said, so did he.

It lasts, as if the Music still
Went round and round the sky:—
He said he had a good time, too;
And I said, so did I!

EARLY.

I like to lie and wait to see
My mother braid her hair.
It is as long as it can be,
And yet she doesn’t care.
I love my mother’s hair.

And then the way her fingers go;
They look so quick and white,—
In and out, and to and fro,
And braiding in the light,
And it is always right.

So then she winds it, shiny brown,
Around her head into a crown,
Just like the day before.
And then she looks and pats it down,
And looks a minute more;
While I stay here all still and cool.
O, isn’t morning beautiful?