A Child's Garden of Verses
 
 

                                           I
                                     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?

                                          II
                                       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.
 

                                          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.
 

                                          IV
                                  Young Night-Thought

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

Armies and emperor 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.

As first they move a little slow,
But still the faster on they go,
And still beside me close I keep
Until we reach the town of Sleep.
 

                                           V
                                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.
 

                                          VI
                                         Rain

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

                                          VII
                                     Pirate Story

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,
     Three of us abroad in the basket on the lea.
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
     And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
     Wary of the weather and steering by a star?
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
     To Providence, or Babylon or off to Malabar?

Hi!  but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea--
     Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!
Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,
     The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.