Chapter I: Don't Like Beetles

I don't like beetles, tho' I'm sure they're very good,
I don't like porridge, tho' my Nanna says I should;
I don't like the cistern in the attic where I play,
And the funny noise the bath makes when the water runs away.
I don't like the feeling when my gloves are made of silk,
And that dreadful slimy skinny stuff on top of hot milk;
I don't like tigers, not even in a book,
And, I know it's very naughty, but I don't like Cook!

ROSE FYLEMAN

WISHES

I wish I liked rice pudding,
I wish I were a twin,
I wish some day a real live fairy
Would just come walking in.

I wish when I'm at table
My feet would touch the floor,
I wish our pipes would burst next winter,
Just like they did next door.

I wish that I could whistle
Real proper grown-up tunes,
I wish they'd let me sweep the chimneys
On rainy afternoons.

I've got such heaps of wishes,
I've only said a few;
I wish that I could wake some morning
And find they'd all come true!

ROSE FYLEMAN

VERY NEARLY!

I never quite saw fairy-folk
A-dancing in the glade,
Where, just beyond the hollow oak,
Their broad green rings are laid:
But, while behind that oak I hid,
_One day I very nearly did!_

I never quite saw mermaids rise
Above the twilight sea,
When sands, left wet,'neath sunset skies,
Are blushing rosily:
But--all alone, those rocks amid--
_One night I very nearly did!_

I never quite saw Goblin Grim
Who haunts our lumber room
And pops his head above the rim
Of that oak chest's deep gloom:
But once--when Mother raised the lid--
_I very, very nearly did!_

QUEENIE SCOTT-HOPPER

WHAT THE THRUSH SAYS

Come and see! Come and see!"
The Thrush pipes out of the hawthorn-tree:
And I and Dicky on tiptoe go
To see what treasures he wants to show.
His call is clear as a call can be--
And "Come and see!" he says:

"Come and see!"

_"Come and see! Come and see!"_
His house is there in the hawthorn-tree:
The neatest house that ever you saw,
Built all of mosses and twigs and straw:
The folk who built were his wife and he--
And "Come and see!" he says:

"Come and see!"

_"Come and see! Come and see!"_
Within this house there are treasures three:
So warm and snug in its curve they lie--
Like three bright bits out of Spring's blue sky.
We would not hurt them, he knows; not we!
So "Come and see!" he says:
"Come and see!"

_"Come and see! Come and see!"_
No thrush was ever so proud as he!
His bright-eyed lady has left those eggs
For just five minutes to stretch her legs.
He's keeping guard in the hawthorn-tree,
And "Come and see!" he says:
"Come and see!"

_"Come and see! Come and see!"_
He has no fear of the boys and me.
He came and shared in our meals, you know,
In hungry times of the frost and snow.
So now we share in his Secret Tree
Where "Come and see!" he says:
"Come and see!"

QUEENIE SCOTT-HOPPER

THE SUNSET GARDEN

I can see from the window a little brown house,
And the garden goes up to the top of the hill.
And the sun comes each day,
And slips down away
At the end of the garden an' sleeps there ... until
The daylight comes climbing up over the hill.

I do wish I lived in the little brown house,
Then at night I'd go out to the garden, an' creep
Up ... up ... then I'd stop,
An' lean over the top,
At the end of the garden, an' so I could peep,
And see what the sun looks like when it's asleep.

MARION ST JOHN WEBB

SWEET AS THE BREATH OF THE WHIN

Sweet as the breath of the whin
Is the thought of my love--
Sweet as the breath of the whin
In the noonday sun--
Sweet as the breath of the whin
In the sun after rain.

Glad as the gold of the whin
Is the thought of my love--
Glad as the gold of the whin
Since wandering's done--
Glad as the gold of the whin
Is my heart, home again.

WILFRID WILSON GIBSON

THE LAW THE LAWYERS KNOW ABOUT

The law the lawyers know about
Is property and land;
But why the leaves are on the trees,
And why the winds disturb the seas,
Why honey is the food of bees,
Why horses have such tender knees,
Why winters come and rivers freeze,
Why Faith is more than what one sees,
And Hope survives the worst disease,
And Charity is more than these,
They do not understand.

H. D. C. PEPLER

ALL IS SPIRIT AND PART OF ME.

A greater lover none can be,
And all is spirit and part of me.
I am sway of the rolling hills,
And breath from the great wide plains;
I am born of a thousand storms,
And grey with the rushing rains;
I have stood with the age-long rocks,
And flowered with the meadow sweet;
I have fought with the wind-worn firs,
And bent with the ripening wheat;
I have watched with the solemn clouds,
And dreamt with the moorland pools;
I have raced with the water's whirl,
And lain where their anger cools;
I have hovered as strong-winged bird,
And swooped as I saw my prey;
I have risen with cold grey dawn,
And flamed in the dying day;
For all is spirit and part of me,
And greater lover none can be.