A Childs Garden of Verses | Page 7

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.
XXVIII
Foreign Children

Little Indian, Sioux, or Crow,
Little frosty Eskimo,
Little Turk or
Japanee,
Oh! 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 upon the foam,
But I am safe and live at home.
Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,
Little frosty Eskimo,
Little Turk or
Japanee,
Oh! don't you wish that you were me?
XXIX
The Sun Travels

The 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.
XXX
The Lamplighter

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky.
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;
And oh! before you hurry by
with ladder and with light;
O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him
to-night!
XXXI
My Bed is a Boat

My bed is like a little boat;
Nurse helps me in when I embark;
She girds me in my sailor's coat
And starts me in the dark.
At night I go on board and say
Good-night to all my friends on shore;
I shut my eyes and sail away
And see and hear no more.
And sometimes things to bed I take,
As prudent sailors have to do;
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,
Perhaps a toy or two.
All night across the dark we steer;
But when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room beside the pier,

I find my vessel fast.