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!

x.x.xIV



TIME TO RISE

A BIRDIE with a yellow bill Hopped upon the window sill, c.o.c.ked his shining eye and said: "Ain"t you "shamed, you sleepy-head?"

x.x.xV

LOOKING-GLa.s.s RIVER

SMOOTH 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.

x.x.xVI

FAIRY BREAD

COME 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.

x.x.xVII

FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE

FASTER 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 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 forever!

x.x.xVIII

WINTER-TIME

LATE 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HAYLOFT

The mice that in these mountains dwell No happier are than I]

x.x.xIX

THE HAYLOFT

THROUGH all the pleasant meadow-side The gra.s.s 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!

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