At seven, when I go to bed,
I find such pictures in my head:
Castles with dragons prowling round,
Gardens where magic fruits are found;
We built a ship upon the stairs
All made of the back-bedroom chairs,
And filled it full of sofa pillows
To go a-sailing on the billows.
‘Come’, said the Wind to the Leaves one day.
‘Come over the meadow and we will play.’
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.
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.
The other story of Sleeping Beauty. A king and queen reigned in a country a great way off, where there were fairies.
Buttercups and daisies-
Oh the pretty flowers,
Coming ere the springtime
To tell of sunny hours.
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out
Through the blinds and the windows and bars;
And high overhead and all moving about,
There were thousands of millions of stars.
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away
Lengthen Night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
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.
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:
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
How pleasant to know Mr. Lear,
Who has written such volumes of stuff.
Some think him ill-tempered and queer,
But a few find him pleasant enough.
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,
Papa’ going to buy you a mockingbird.
I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
There was once an old castle, that stood in the middle of a deep gloomy wood, and in the castle lived an old fairy. Now this fairy could take any shape she pleased.
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
On a little piece of wood,
Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood;
Mrs. Sparrow sate close by,
A-making of an insect pie,
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.
Summer; fading, winter comes-
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.
Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,
Three of us aboard 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.
How beautiful is the rain!
After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain!
Goodbye, goodbye to Summer!
For Summer’s nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Sound the flute!
Now it’s mute!
Day and night…
Star Light Star bright,
The first star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven without repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Here’s my throne, and I am King!
A hungry dog some meat had seized,
And, with the ample booty pleased,
His neighbour dogs forsook;
In fear for his delightful prize,
He look’d around with eager eyes,
And ran to cross the brook.
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
“Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse –
Perhaps you have seen him before;
Perhaps, while you slept, his shadow has swept
Through the moonlight that floats on the floor.
They went to sea in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they went to sea:
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter’s morn, on a stormy day,
In a Sieve they went to sea!
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.
“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail,
“There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.
A Silly young Mouse
Ventur’d out of the house,
In spite of his mother’s advice;
And, deaf to regard,
Ran along the farm-yard,
But return’d to the nest in a trice.
There lived an old man in the kingdom of Tess,
Who invented a purely original dress;
And when it was perfectly made and complete,
He opened the door, and walked into the street.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…
The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?
The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
Boats sail on the rivers,
And ships sail on the seas;
But clouds that sail across the sky
Are prettier than these.
Oh! a bare, brown rock
Stood up in the sea,
The waves at its feet
In a village dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered together a dish of beans and wanted to cook them. So she made a fire on her hearth, and that it might burn the quicker, she lighted it with a handful of straw.
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.
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!
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you.
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.
If the butterfly courted the bee,
And the owl the porcupine;
If the churches were built in the sea,
And three times one was nine…
The Oak is called the king of trees,
The Aspen quivers in the breeze…
Whether the weather be fine,
Or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold,
Or whether the weather be hot…
Whenever the moon and stars are set,
Whenever the wind is high…
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail…
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night, sailed off in a wooden shoe…