Chapter I: TOOK the wren's nest;

Heaven forgive me!
Its merry architects so small
Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
That empty still and neat and fair
Hung idly in the summer air.
The mossy walls, the dainty door,
Where Love should enter and explore,
And Love sit caroling outside,
And Love within chirp multiplied;--
I took the wren's nest;--
Heaven forgive me!

How many hours of happy pains
Through early frosts and April rains,
How many songs at eve and morn
O'er springing grass and greening corn,
Before the pretty house was made!
One little minute, only one,
And she'll fly back, and find it--gone!
I took the wren's nest;--
Bird, forgive me!

Thou and thy mate, sans let, sans fear,
Ye have before you all the year,
And every wood holds nooks for you,
In which to sing and build and woo
One piteous cry of birdish pain--
And ye'll begin your life again,
Forgetting quite the lost, lost home
In many a busy home to come--
But I?--Your wee house keep I must
Until it crumble into dust.
I took the wren's nest:
God forgive me!

A CHILD'S SMILE

A CHILD'S smile--nothing more;
Quiet and soft and grave, and seldom seen,
Like summer lightning o'er,
Leaving the little face again serene.

I think, boy well-beloved,
Thine angel, who did grieve to see how far
Thy childhood is removed
From sports that dear to other children are,

On this pale cheek has thrown
The brightness of his countenance, and made
A beauty like his own--
That, while we see it, we are half afraid,

And marvel, will it stay?
Or, long ere manhood, will that angel fair,
Departing some sad day,
Steal the child-smile and leave the shadow care?

Nay, fear not. As is given
Unto this child the father watching o'er,
His angel up in heaven
Beholds Our Father's face for evermore.

And he will help him bear
His burthen, as his father helps him now;
So he may come to wear
That happy child-smile on an old man's brow.

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY

A LITTLE bird flew my window by,
'Twixt the level street and the level sky,
The level rows of houses tall,
The long low sun on the level wall
And all that the little bird did say
Was, "Over the hills and far away."

A little bird sang behind my chair,
From the level line of corn-fields fair,
The smooth green hedgerow's level bound
Not a furlong off--the horizon's bound,
And the level lawn where the sun all day
Burns:--"Over the hills and far away."

A little bird sings above my bed,
And I know if I could but lift my head
I would see the sun set, round and grand,
Upon level sea and level sand,
While beyond the misty distance gray
Is "Over the hills and far away."

I think that a little bird will sing
Over a grassy mound, next spring,
Where something that once was _me_, ye'll leave
In the level sunshine, morn and eve:
But I shall be gone, past night, past day,
Over the hills and far away.

THE TWO RAINDROPS

SAID a drop to a drop, "Just look at me!
I'm the finest rain-drop you ever did see:
I have lived ten seconds at least on my pane;
Swelling and filling and swelling again.

"All the little rain-drops unto me run,
I watch them and catch them and suck them up each one:
All the pretty children stand and at me stare;
Pointing with their fingers--'That's the biggest drop there.'"

"Yet you are but a drop," the small drop replied;
"I don't myself see much cause for pride:
The bigger you swell up,--we know well, my friend,--
The faster you run down the sooner you'll end.

"For me, I'm contented outside on my ledge,
Hearing the patter of rain in the hedge;
Looking at the firelight and the children fair,--
Whether they look at me, I'm sure I don't care."

"Sir," cried the first drop, "your talk is but dull;
I can't wait to listen, for I'm almost full;
You'll run a race with me?--No?--Then 'tis plain
I am the largest drop in the whole pane."

Off ran the big drop, at first rather slow:
Then faster and faster, as drops will, you know:
Raced down the window-pane, like hundreds before,
Just reached the window-sill--one splash--and was o'er.

THE YEAR'S END

SO grows the rising year, and so declines
By months, weeks, days, unto its peaceful end
Even as by slow and ever-varying signs
Through childhood, youth, our solemn steps we bend
Up to the crown of life, and thence descend.

Great Father, who of every one takest care,
From him on whom full ninety years are piled
To the young babe, just taught to lisp a prayer
About the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"
Who children loves, being once himself a child,--

O make us day by day like Him to grow;
More pure and good, more dutiful and meek;
Because He loves those who obey Him so;
Because His love is the best thing to seek,
Because without His love, all loves are weak,--

All earthly joys are miserable and poor,
All earthly goodness quickly droops and dies,
Like rootless flowers you plant in gardens--sure
That they will flourish--till in mid-day skies
The sun burns, and they fade before your eyes.

O God, who art alone the life and light
Of this strange world to which as babes we come,
Keep Thou us always children in Thy sight:
Guide us from year to year, thro' shine and gloom
And at our year's end, Father, take us home.

RUNNING AFTER THE RAINBOW

"WHY thus aside your playthings throw,
Over the wet lawn hurrying so?
Where are you going, I want to know?"
"I'm running after the rainbow."

"Little boy, with your bright brown eyes
Full of an innocent surprise,
Stop a minute, my Arthur wise,
What do you want with the rainbow?"

Arthur paused in his headlong race,
Turned to his mother his hot, young face,
"Mother, I want to reach the place
At either end of the rainbow.

"Nurse says, wherever it meets the ground.
Such beautiful things may oft be found
Buried below, or scattered round,
If one can but catch the rainbow.

"O please don't hinder me, mother dear,
It will all be gone while I stay here;"
So with many a hope and not one fear,
The child ran after the rainbow.

Over the damp grass, ankle deep,
Clambering up the hilly steep,
And the wood where the birds were going to sleep,
But he couldn't catch the rainbow.

And when he came out at the wood's far side,
The sun was setting in golden pride,
There were plenty of clouds all rainbow dyed,
But not a sign of the rainbow.

Said Arthur, sobbing, as home he went,
"I wish I had thought what mother meant;
I wish I had only been content,
And not ran after the rainbow."

And as he came sadly down the hill,
Stood mother scolding--but smiling still,
And hugged him up close, as mothers will:
So he quite forgot the rainbow.

DICK AND I

WE'RE going to a party, my brother Dick and I:
The best, grandest party we ever did try:
And I'm very happy--but Dick is so shy!

I've got a white ball-dress, and flowers in my hair,
And a scarf, with a brooch too, mamma let me wear:
Silk stockings, and shoes with high heels, I declare!

There is to be music--a real soldier's band:
And _I_ mean to waltz, and eat ice, and be fanned,
Like a grown-up young lady, the first in the land.

But Dick is so stupid, so silent and shy:
Has never learnt dancing, so says he won't try--
Yet Dick is both older and wiser than I.

And I'm fond of my brother--this darling old Dick:
I'll hunt him in corners wherever he stick,
He's bad at a party--but at school he's a brick!

So good at his Latin, at cricket, football,
Whatever he tries at. And then he's so tall!
Yet at play with the children he's best of us all.

And his going to the party is just to please _me_,
Poor Dick! so good-natured. How dull he will be!
But he says I shall dance "like a wave o' the sea."

That's Shakespeare, his Shakespeare, he worships him so.
Our Dick he writes poems, though none will he show;
I found out his secret, but I won't tell: no, no.

And when he's a great man, a poet you see,
O dear! what a proud little sister I'll be;
Hark! there comes the carriage. We're off, Dick and me.

GRANDPAPA

GRANDPAPA lives at the end of the lane,
His cottage is small and its furniture plain;
No pony to ride on, no equipage grand,--
A garden, and just half an acre of land;
No dainties to dine off, and very few toys,--
Yet is grandpapa's house the delight of the boys.

Grandpapa once lived in one little room,
Grandpapa worked all day long at his loom:
He speaks with queer accent, does dear grandpapa,
And not half so well as papa and mamma.
The girls think his clothes are a little rough,
But the boys all declare they can't love him enough.

A man of the people in manners and mind,
Yet so honest, so tender, so clever, so kind:
Makes the best of his lot still, where'er it be cast.
A sturdy old Englishman, game to the last.
Though simple and humble and unknown to fame,
It's good luck to the boys to bear grandpapa's name!

MONSIEUR ET MADEMOISELLE.

DEUX petits enfants Francais,
Monsieur et Mademoiselle.
Of what can they be talking, child?
Indeed I cannot tell.
But of this I am very certain,
You would find naught to blame
In that sweet French politeness--
I wish we had the same.

Monsieur has got a melon,
And scoops it with his knife,
While Mademoiselle sits watching him:
No rudeness here--no strife:
Though could you listen only,
They're chattering like two pies--
French magpies, understand me--
So merry and so wise.

Their floor is bare of carpet,
Their curtains are so thin,
They dine on meagre _potage_, and
Put many an onion in!
Her snow-white caps she irons:
He blacks his shoes, he can;
Yet she's a little lady
And he's a gentleman.

O busy, happy children!
That light French heart of yours,
Would it might sometimes enter at
Our solemn English doors!
Would that we worked as gaily,
And played, yes, played as well,
And lived our lives as simply
As Monsieur et Mademoiselle.

YOUNG DANDELION

YOUNG Dandelion
On a hedge-side,
Said young Dandelion,
"Who'll be my bride?

"I'm a bold fellow
As ever was seen,
With my shield of yellow,
In the grass green.

"You may uproot me,
From field and from lane,
Trample me, cut me,--
I spring up again.

"I never flinch, Sir,
Wherever I dwell;
Give me an inch, Sir.
I'll soon take an ell.

"Drive me from garden
In anger and pride,
I'll thrive and harden
By the road-side.

"Not a bit fearful,
Showing my face,
Always so cheerful
In every place."

Said young Dandelion,
With a sweet air,
"I have my eye on
Miss Daisy fair.

"Though we may tarry
Till past the cold,
Her I will marry
Ere I grow old.

"I will protect her
From all kinds of harm,
Feed her with nectar,
Shelter her warm.

"Whate'er the weather,
Let it go by;
We'll hold together,
Daisy and I.

"I'll ne'er give in,--no!
Nothing I fear:
All that I win, O!
I'll keep for my dear."

Said young Dandelion
On his hedge-side,
"Who'll me rely on?
Who'll be my bride?"

A SEPTEMBER ROBIN

MY eyes are full, my silent heart is stirred,
Amid these days so bright
Of ceaseless warmth and light;
Summer that will not die,
Autumn, without one sigh
O'er sweet hours passing by--
Cometh that tender note
Out of thy tiny throat,
Like grief, or love, insisting to be heard,
O little plaintive bird!

No need of word
Well know I all your tale--forgotten bird!
Soon you and I together
Must face the winter weather,
Remembering how we sung
Our primrose fields among,
In days when life was young;
Now, all is growing old,
And the warm earth's a-cold,
Still, with brave heart we'll sing on, little bird,
Sing only. Not one word.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Text uses both tablecloth and table-cloth.

Page 8, "tidiness,and" changed to "tidiness, and" (liked tidiness, and)

Page 12, "agan" changed to "again" (to the table again)

Page 25, "Gradener" changed to "Gardener" (cried the Gardener)

Page 29, "shown" changed to "shone" (shone with dew)

Page 32, "it" changed to "if" (as if the old)

Page 36, "like" changed to "liked" (liked all young things)

Page 35, "sate" changed to "state" (a pretty state of)

Page 49, "it" changed to "if" (as if there was)

Page 50, "f" changed to "if" (presently, if you)

Page 57, "altogetherwas" changed to "altogether was" (altogether was such)

Page 60, word "a" added to text (it was a bright)

Page 68, "plaee" changed to "place" (place is bewitched)

Page 71, illustration, "suddenl" changed to "suddenly" (ice suddenly broke)

Page 78, "bakset" changed to "basket" (basket is too heavy)

Page 78, "bolws" changed to "blows" (very hard blows)

Page 79, "it" changed to "is" (is; that nasty)

Page 80, "donwward" changed to "downward" (their necks downward)

Page 97, "theives" changed to "thieves" (all young thieves)

Page 99, "fairy a tale" changed to "a fairy tale" (you want a fairy tale)

Page 113, "ma n" changed to "main" (with might and main)

Page 116, "al" changed to "all" (you all the year)

Page 116, "bui d" changed to "build" (build and woo)

Page 116, "du t" changed to "dust" (crumble into dust)

Page 116, "SMIL" changed to "SMILE" (A CHILD'S SMILE)

Page 120, "hedgegrow's" changed to "hedgerow's" (hedgerow's level bound)

End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of A Brownie, by Miss Mulock