Kitabı oku: «In My Nursery», sayfa 7

THE BOOTS OF A HOUSEHOLD

[After Mrs. Hemans.]

 
They came in beauty, side by side,
They filled one house with noise;
And now they're trotting far and wide,
On feet of girls and boys.
 
 
The self-same shoemaker did bend
O'er every heel and toe;
Shaped all their upper leathers fair, —
Where are those leathers now?
 
 
One pair is kicking 'gainst the bench,
The patient bench, at school;
And two are wading through the mud,
And splashing in the pool.
 
 
"The sea, the blue, lone sea," hath one.
He left it on the beach;
A merry wave came dancing up,
And bore it out of reach.
 
 
One sleeps where depths of slimy bog
Are glossed with grasses o'er;
One hasty plunge – it loosed its hold,
And sank to rise no more.
 
 
One pair – aha! I see them now,
And know them past all doubt;
For through each leather, gaping wide,
A rosy toe peeps out.
 
 
And parted thus, old, dusty, torn,
They travel far and wide,
Who in the shop, in shining rows,
Sat lately side by side.
 
 
And thus they frolic, frolic there,
And thus they caper here;
But great and small, and torn and all,
To mother's heart are dear.
 

[N. B. —Also to father's purse.]

THE PALACE

 
It's far away under the water,
And it's far away under the sea,
There's a beautiful palace a-waiting
For my little Rosy and me.
 
 
The roof is made of coral,
And the floor is made of pearl,
And over it all the great waves fall
With a terrible tumble and whirl.
 
 
The fishes swim in at the window,
And the fishes swim out at the door,
And the lobsters and eels go dancing quadrilles
All over the beautiful floor.
 
 
There's a silver throne at on end,
And a golden throne at the other;
And on them you see, as plain as can be,
"Queen Rosy" and "Queen Mother."
 
 
And I will sit on the silver throne,
And Rosy shall sit on the gold;
And there we will stay, and frolic and play,
Until we're a thousand years old.
 

BUNKER HILL MONUMENT

 
Do you see that stately column,
Children dear,
Lifting its gray head to heaven,
Year by year?
Telling of the battle fought,
Telling of the good work wrought,
Telling of the victory bought,
Bought so dear!
 
 
Oh! the costly blood that flowed,
Children mine!
Fast as from the purple grapes
Flows the wine!
Oh! the heroes lying dead!
Oh! the women's hearts that bled!
Oh! the bitter tears they shed,
Children mine!
 
 
Long ago the tears were dried,
Children dear!
Long ago the weepers died,
Year by year.
But the column old and gray
Tells the story day by day.
"Victory!" it seems to say.
"Victory's here!"
 

MAY

 
Is there anything new to sing about you,
May, my dear?
Any unhackneyed thing about you,
Pray, my dear?
Anything that has not been sung
Long ago, when the world was young,
By silver throat and golden tongue?
Say, my dear!
 
 
So many have said that your eyes are blue,
May, my dear;
It must be a tiresome fact, though true,
May, my dear.
And if I, for one, my gracious Queen,
Should boldly assert that your eyes are green,
'Twould be a relief to you, I ween.
Eh, my dear?
 
 
We know, at the touch of your garment's fold,
May, my dear,
The daisies come starring with white and gold
The way, my dear;
We know that the painted blossoms all
Come starting up at your gentle call,
By dale and meadow and garden wall,
May, my dear.
 
 
We know that your birds have the sweetest tune,
May, my dear;
And lovers love best beneath your moon,
They say, my dear.
And I might add that your perfumed kiss
Is considered productive of highest bliss;
But you must be so tired of hearing this.
Eh, my dear?
 
 
No, I really don't think there's anything fresh
Or new, my dear;
For life is short, and available rhymes
Are few, my dear.
So if I say nought about vernal bowers,
And forbear to mention the sunlit showers,
I think I shall make the best use of my powers.
Don't you, my dear?
 
 
And yet – yet I cannot help loving you so,
May, my dear,
That the old words, whether I will or no,
I say, my dear.
And how you are fair, and how you are sweet,
My loving lips forever repeat, —
And is this the reason you pass so fleet?
Ah, stay, my dear!
 

GREGORY GRIGGS

 
Gregory Griggs, Gregory Griggs,
Had forty-seven different wigs;
He wore them up, and he wore them down,
To please the people of Boston town.
He wore them east, and he wore them west,
But he never could tell which he liked the best.
 

A NURSERY TRAGEDY

 
It was a lordly elephant,
His name, his name was Sprite;
He stood upon the nursery floor,
All ready for a fight.
 
 
He looked upon the rocking-horse,
Who proudly prancing stood:
"O rocking-horse! O shocking horse!
I'm thirsting for your blood!
 
 
"How dare you stand and look at me,
You ugly snorting thing?
Know, that of every living beast,
The elephant is king!
 
 
"And if a person looks at me,
Unless I give him leave,
He's very apt to meet his death
Too swiftly for reprieve.
 
 
"You are the most unpleasant beast
I e'er have looked on yet;
Although the stupid children here
Will make of you a pet.
 
 
"I hate your tail of waving hair!
I hate your bits of brass!
But more, oh, more than all, I hate
Your gleaming eyes of glass!
 
 
"Were you of cotton-flannel made,
As nursery beasts should be,
With eyes of good black boot-buttons,
You then might look at me.
 
 
"I might forgive your want of tusks,
Your lack of trunk forgive;
But that wild, goggling, glassy glare —
No! never, while I live!
 
 
"So get you gone, you rocking-horse!
Go to your closet-shed,
And there, behind the wood-basket,
Conceal your ugly head!"
 
 
But as the elephant thus did scold
And rage and fume and roar,
The rocking-horse rocked over him,
And crushed him to the floor.
 

THE UMBRELLA BRIGADE

 
"Pitter patter!" falls the rain
On the school-room window-pane.
Such a plashing! such a dashing!
Will it e'er be dry again?
Down the gutter rolls a flood,
And the crossing's deep in mud;
And the puddles! oh, the puddles
Are a sight to stir one's blood!
 
 
Chorus. But let it rain
Tree-toads and frogs,
Muskets and pitchforks,
Kittens and dogs!
Dash away! plash away!
Who is afraid?
Here we go,
The Umbrella Brigade!
 
 
Pull the boots up to the knee!
Tie the hoods on merrily!
Such a hustling! such a jostling!
Out of breath with fun are we.
Clatter, clatter, down the street,
Greeting every one we meet,
With our laughing and our chaffing,
Which the laughing drops repeat.
 
 
Chorus. So let it rain
Tree-toads and frogs,
Muskets and pitchforks,
Kittens and dogs!
Dash away! plash away!
Who is afraid?
Here we go,
The Umbrella Brigade!
 

THE PRINCESS IN SATURN AND THE RED MAN IN MARS

 
There once was a princess both fair and tall,
Who did not live on this earth at all.
She lived up in Saturn,
And she was a pattern
Of every accomplishment, great and small;
The graces and virtues, she had them all.
 
 
Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, she had them pat;
And she played on the sackbut! think of that!
And she sang so sweet,
All the birds at her feet
With envy and sorrow fell down quite flat;
I've been told they fell down quite remarkably flat.
 
 
Now all the princes and all the kings
Who lived in Saturn and all his rings,
They came and knelt
Where the princess dwelt;
And they brought her all sorts of beautiful things, —
Oh! quite an assortment of elegant things.
 
 
For one king brought her a diamond hat;
And another presented a two-legged cat;
While another one said,
"When my uncle is dead,
I will give you his monkey. Be sure of that!
His talented monkey; depend upon that!"
 
 
One powerful prince, with a haughty stride,
Came forward and said, "If you'll be my bride,
You shall have the Great Bear
To powder your hair,
And the small one to lace up your boots beside, —
To lace up your boots, and to shine them beside."
 
 
But the princess sighed; and softly she said,
"Alas! not one of you all can I wed.
'Tis my positive plan
To marry a man
Who lives up in Mars, and is painted red, —
From his head to his feet, quite a violent red.
 
 
"I have often looked through my opera-glass,
And up and down I have seen him pass;
And so bright was his hue,
And so lovely to view,
I felt that in him lay my fate, alas!
I read in his red my own fate, alas!
 
 
"So now, if you love me as fond and true
As all of you think that all of you do,
You will help me to wed
My 'Study in Red.'
Oh, kings and princes, now pray you, do!
You dear kings and princes, I beg of you, do!"
 
 
The kings and princes arose with a frown,
And first they looked up, and then they looked down.
Not a man of them spoke
Till he'd straightened his cloak,
And settled his wig, and adjusted his crown.
 

THE PRINCESS IN SATURN

 
And then, "If you honestly wish," they said,
"To marry a man who is painted red"
(In Saturn, I ween,
All the people are green),
"We don't know that there's anything more to be said, —
Your Highness, there seems nothing more to be said."
 
 
So they called a comet, and told him to go
To the Red Man in Mars, and give him to know
That a princess in Saturn,
Of virtues the pattern,
Desired to marry him, whether or no, —
Was determined to marry him, whether or no.
 
 
Away whizzed the comet, and soon he came
To the Red Man in Mars, and called him by name.
And telling his news,
Begged him not to refuse
To send back an answer at once to the same, —
"Just you make up your mind in regard to the same!"
 
 
But the Red Man sighed, and mournfully said,
"My friend, 'tis our law that all wives must be red;
And if I should be seen
With a wife who is green,
Our king would be apt at removing my head, —
Not a moment he'd lose in removing my head.
 
 
"But if the young lady (who's surely most kind),
Could in any way make up her princessly mind
To turn herself red,
It need hardly be said
That a lover devoted in me she would find, —
That a husband adoring in me she would find."
 
 
The comet whizzed back with the answer again,
And the kings and the princes received it with pain.
"Sure, the princess's green
Has so brilliant a sheen,
That the thought of a change is exceedingly vain, —
The idea of a change is prepost'rously vain."
 
 
But when the princess this message heard,
She said, "I see nothing in this that's absurd."
Then to blush she began;
And she blushed till the Man
In Mars was less ruddy by half, on my word, —
Less red by a generous half, on my word!
 
 
She blushed over cheek and lip and brow,
From her fair little head to her trim little toe.
And her hat and her shoe,
And her farthingale too,
They blushed just as red as herself, I vow, —
They blushed for the love of herself, I vow.
 
 
She blushed till the Northern Lights grew pale;
And the Scorpion danced on the tip of his tail;
And the Red Man came
In a fiery flame,
And cried, "My bee-yutiful bride, all hail!
My blushing, bee-yutiful bride, all hail!"
 
 
And so they were married, both he and she,
And the color of both was quite scarlet to see.
And they lived, the tale says,
To the end of their days,
As happy, as happy, as happy could be:
Sure, no other couple so happy could be.
 
 
For she loved him in Hebrew, and likewise in Greek,
And the Latin tongue also she freely did speak.
And the sackbut she'd play
Every hour in the day,
Till the Red Man in Mars would with ecstasy squeak, —
Till her cochineal husband with rapture would squeak.
 
 
But the people in Saturn were sad, I ween,
And evermore greener they grew, and more green;
And the princes and kings
Said such heartbreaking things,
In these mirth-loving pages they must not be seen:
I really must stop,
And the subject must drop,
For it won't do at all for such things to be seen.
 

WIGGLE AND WAGGLE AND BUBBLE AND SQUEAK

 
Wiggle and Waggle and Bubble and Squeak,
They went their fortunes for to seek;
They went to sea in a chicken-coop,
And they lived on mulligatawney soup.
 
 
Wiggle and Waggle and Bubble and Squeak,
They cooked their soup every day in the week;
They cooked their soup in a chimney-pot,
For there the water was always hot.
 
 
Wiggle and Waggle and Bubble and Squeak,
Each gave the other one's nose a tweak;
They tweaked so hard that it took their breath,
And so they met an untimely death.
 

Gret Gran'f'ther

 
What! take Gret Gran'f'ther's musket,
Thet he kerried at Bunker Hill,
An' go a-gunnin' fer sparrers
With Solomon Judd an' Bill?
 
 
You let thet musket alone, Dan'l!
An' git down from thet air stool.
You've just time enough to hold this yarn
Afore ye go off to school.
 
 
Thar! don't ye wriggle an' twist, sonny!
The yarn's fer yer own new socks;
It's safer to hold than muskets,
With their triggers an' riggers an' locks.
 
 
A musket to shoot at sparrers!
Wal, boys is up to sech tricks!
An' thet old un, too, thet ain't ben tetched
Sence seventeen seventy-six!
 
 
But I set more store by its rusty stock,
Than the finest money could buy;
An' if you'll stan' stiddy, Dan'l,
I'll tell ye the reason why.
 
 
You never seed Gret Gran'f'ther,
But you've seed his pictur, boy,
With the smilin' mouth, an' the big brown eyes
Jes' brimmin' with life and joy.
 
 
Wal! he war'n't like thet when I seed him,
But his sperrit was lively still,
Fer all his white hair an' empty sleeve,
As it was at Bunker Hill.
 
 
An' many's the time he's told me,
Settin' here in this very cheer,
Of the fust time he shouldered thet musket,
In the Continental year.
 
 
How out in the field a-mowin',
He seed the bay'nets glance,
An' ran fer his gun with a lighter heart
Than ever he went to a dance.
 
 
Jest as he was, – in his shirt-sleeves
(Fer the day was warm and bright),
An' no hat, – but shoulderin' his musket,
Gret Gran'f'ther went to the fight.
 
 
An' thar upon Bunker hillside,
Whar the smoke hung thick an' gray,
He went a-gunnin' fer redcoats,
As you'd go fer sparrers to-day.
 
 
Hey! but the balls were whistlin'!
An' the flashes kem thick an' fast;
But whose-ever musket hed fust word,
Gret Gran'f'ther's hed the last.
 
 
Then a gunner was shot beside him,
Thet handled a six-pound gun,
An' they called fer a man to tend her;
An' Gran'f'ther said he was one.
 
 
"I ain't never fired a gun," said he,
"But I'll do my prideful best;
An' ef all you want is a man, Colonel,
Mebbe I'm as good as the rest."
 
 
An' I reckon he was! fer he stood thar,
An' fired thet six-pound gun,
Till every redcoat within his range
Hed either dropped or run.
 
 
Then all of a suddent thar kem a crack,
A flash an' a twinge an' a thrill,
An' Gran'f'ther's right arm dropped by his side,
An' hung thar, limp an' still.
 
 
Jest fer a moment, I've heard him say,
The hull world seemed to reel;
An' a hummin' sound went through his ears,
Like Gran'm'ther's spinnin'-wheel.
 
 
But he hedn't no time for faintin',
Nor he hedn't no time for pain;
"It's well I'm left-handed!" says Gran'f'ther,
An' he fired the gun again.
 
 
Bimeby, when the Colonel found him,
Arter the fight was done,
He was lyin', all black like a nigger,
An' senseless, along by his gun.
 
 
Then the boys made a kind o' stretcher,
An' jest as they laid him a-top,
"The balls was all gone," he says, "Colonel,
So I was obleeged to stop."
 
 
Yes! thet was the way Gret Gran'f'ther fit,
An' the way he lost his arm;
But he shot with his left till the land was free,
An' then he kem back to the farm.
 
 
An' he laid his musket acrost them hooks,
An' thar it's laid to this day;
An' spite o' you an' the sparrers, Dan'l,
Thar's whar it's a-goin' to stay.
 
 
The school-bell! run now, sonny boy!
An' thank ye fer standin' still.
What's thet? Ay! Hurrah fer Gret Gran'f'ther!
An' hurrah fer Bunker Hill!
 

DAY DREAMS

 
White wings over the water,
Fluttering, fluttering over the sea,
White wings over the water,
What are you bringing to me?
A fairy prince in a golden boat,
With golden ringlets that fall and float,
A velvet cap, and a taffety cloak,
This you are bringing to me.
 
 
Fairy, fairy princekin,
Sailing, sailing hither to me,
Silk and satin and velvet,
What are you coming to see?
A little girl in a calico gown,
With hair and eyes of dusky brown,
Who sits on the wharf of the fishing-town,
Looking away to sea.
 
 
Golden, golden sunbeams,
Touch me now with your wands of gold;
Make me a beautiful princess,
Radiant to behold.
 
 
Blue and silver and ermine fine,
Diamond drops that flash and shine;
So shall I meet this prince of mine,
Fairer than may be told.
 
 
White wings over the water,
Fluttering ever farther away;
Dark clouds shrouding the sunbeams,
Sullen and cold and gray.
Back I go in my calico gown,
Back to the hut in the fishing-town.
And oh, but the night shuts darkly down
After the summer day!
 

THE BATTLE

[All the children march, each singing a verse in turn, and all joining in the refrain.]

 
I am a German,
Marching, marching.
I am a German,
Tum tum tum!
Musket on shoulder,
Who could be bolder,
Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
 
 
Chorus. Bang! bang! bang!
Hear the muskets rattle!
Bang! bang! bang! bang!
Now we'll have a battle.
Shoot 'em through the head,
Run 'em through the body!
He who runs away
Is called a Hoddy-Doddy.¹
[Repeat after each verse.]
 
 
I am a Frenchman,
Marching, marching.
I am a Frenchman,
Tum tum tum!
First at the front,
I will bear the battle's brunt,
Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
 
 
I am an Englishman,
Marching, marching.
I am an Englishman,
Tum tum tum!
Let the foeman meet me!
Where's the one to beat me?
Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
I am an Irishman,
Marching, marching.
 
 
I am an Irishman,
Tum tum tum!
When the battle's ready,
Who'll be there but Paddy?
Tramping away at the sound of the drum.
 
 
[All together.]
We are the regiment,
Marching, marching.
We are the regiment,
Tum tum tum!
Let the trumpets blow,
As we rush to meet the foe,
With a tan tan tara! at the sound of the drum.
 

THE STRANGE BEAST

 
Four gay gallants of London town
Went out to walk on Horsley Down;
And there they saw a beast,
The like of which had ne'er been seen
In Cheapside or in Strand, I ween,
In West-side or in East.
 
 
Its legs were four, its tail was one,
So one gallant swore by the sun
It therefore was a horse;
"Nay!" cried the next, "this talk is idle.
If 'twere a horse, 'twould have a bridle,
A saddle, too, of course."
 
 
"It has a horn, you will perceive,
We'll therefore call it, by your leave,
A unicorn of pride."
The others vowed by stick and fiddle
The unicorn wore his horn in the middle,
And not upon the side.
 
 
"I call't a lion!" said the third.
"Nay!" cried the fourth, "that's too absurd!
The creature has no mane.
To one who has a judgment fair,
It would appear to be a bear;
And this I will maintain."
 
 
The beast (I'll tell the secret now!
'Twas Farmer Giles's one-horned cow,
Her other horn was broken)
Advanced, meanwhile, toward the four,
And as 'twas supper-time and more,
Mooed loud, by way of token.
 
 
With shriek and scream those gallants gay
To London town fled back away,
As fast as they might fare.
And when at home they stopped to rest 'em,
A whole menagerie had chased 'em,
As every one could swear.
 

A GARDEN JINGLE

 
Three little peas,
Three little peas,
Three little peas in a pod.
The pod it was green,
And fair to be seen,
But they wanted to go abroad.
 
 
And "Oh," said they,
"To be far away,
Out in the air so green!
To flutter and fly
Like the birds that go by!
We would envy nor king nor queen."
 
 
Three little peas,
Three little peas,
Three little peas in a pod.
My Harry he took them,
And rattled and shook them,
And fired them all abroad.
 
 
The first one fell
Right into the well,
And learned how to float and swim.
The second did fly
Into Roderick's eye,
And sorely disgusted him.
 
 
But the third little pea,
Right venturesomely,
Straight up in the air it flew;
And it stared in surprise
With both of its eyes,
To find that the air was blue.
 

THE BABY GOES TO BOSTON

 
What does the train say?
Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle!
What does the train say?
Jiggle joggle jee!
Will the little baby go
Riding with the locomo?
Loky moky poky stoky
Smoky choky chee!
 
 
Ting! ting! the bells ring,
Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle!
Ting! ting! the bells ring,
Jiggle joggle jee!
Ring for joy because we go
Riding with the locomo,
Loky moky poky stoky
Smoky choky chee!
 
 
Look! how the trees run,
Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle!
Each chasing t'other one,
Jiggle joggle jee!
Are they running for to go
Riding with the locomo?
Loky moky poky stoky
Smoky choky chee!
 
 
Over the hills now,
Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle!
Down through the vale below,
Jiggle joggle jee!
All the cows and horses run,
Crying, "Won't you take us on,
Loky moky poky stoky
Smoky choky chee?"
 
 
So, so, the miles go,
Jiggle joggle, jiggle joggle!
Now it's fast and now it's slow,
Jiggle joggle jee!
When we're at our journey's end,
Say good-by to snorting friend,
Loky moky poky stoky
Smoky choky chee!
 

THE FLAG IN THE SCHOOLROOM

[Written for the Central Street Grammar School, Gardiner, Me., Dec. 20, 1880.]

 
Goddess Freedom, look abroad
From thy snowy mount to-night!
In all thy realm so fair and broad,
Thou shalt not see a fairer sight.
Youthful hearts, so glad and free,
Paying homage due to thee:
Youthful voices, fresh and strong,
Singing thine immortal song.
 
 
As the stars with many a ray
Deck thy banner's azure field,
So these children stand to-day,
Stars of hope upon thy shield.
May each boy, to manhood grown,
Ever, Freedom, be thine own;
Now thy nursling, frail and tender,
Then thy strength and thy defender.
 
 
In the years that are to come,
Be they dark or be they bright,
Make in these young hearts thy home,
Raise them to thy lofty height.
Keep them still, in manhood's glow,
Pure as is our northern snow;
Keep their faith, till life be done,
Bright as is our northern sun!