Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated) (490 page)

THE SWING

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!

TIME TO RISE

A birdie with a yellow bill

Hopped upon the window sill,

Cocked his shining eye and said:

“Ain’t you ‘shamed, you sleepy-head!”

LOOKING-GLASS RIVER

Smooth it glides 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.

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.

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 of 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 for ever!

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.

THE HAYLOFT

Through all the pleasant meadow-side

The grass grew shoulder-high,

Till the shining scythes went far and wide

And cut it down to dry.

Those 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!

Oh, what a joy to clamber there,

Oh, what a place for play,

With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air,

The happy hills of hay!

THE HAYLOFT

FAREWELL TO THE FARM

The coach is at the door at last;

The eager children, mounting fast

And kissing hands, in chorus sing:

Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

To house and garden, field and lawn,

The meadow-gates we swang upon,

To pump and stable, tree and swing,

Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

And fare you well for evermore,

O ladder at the hayloft door,

O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,

Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

Crack goes the whip, and off we go;

The trees and houses smaller grow;

Last, round the woody turn we swing:

Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

NORTH-WEST PASSAGE