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Alas； that the longest hill
Must end in a vale； but still；
Who climbs with toil； wheresoe'er；
Shall find wings waiting there。
Henry Charles Beeching ＇1859…1919＇
PLAYGROUNDS
In summer I am very glad
We children are so small；
For we can see a thousand things
That men can't see at all。
They don't know much about the moss
And all the stones they pass：
They never lie and play among
The forests in the grass：
They walk about a long way off；
And； when we're at the sea；
Let father stoop as best he can
He can't find things like me。
But； when the snow is on the ground
And all the puddles freeze；
I wish that I were very tall；
High up above the trees。
Laurence Alma…Tadema ＇18 …
〃WHO HAS SEEN THE WIND？〃
Who has seen the wind？
Neither I nor you：
But when the leaves hang trembling；
The wind is passing through。
Who has seen the wind？
Neither you nor I：
But when the trees bow down their heads；
The wind is passing by。
Christina Georgina Rossetti ＇1830…1894＇
THE WIND'S SONG
O winds that blow across the sea；
What is the story that you bring？
Leaves clap their hands on every tree
And birds about their branches sing。
You sing to flowers and trees and birds
Your sea…songs over all the land。
Could you not stay and whisper words
A little child might understand？
The roses nod to hear you sing；
But though I listen all the day；
You never tell me anything
Of father's ship so far away。
Its masts are taller than the trees；
Its sails are silver in the sun；
There's not a ship upon the seas
So beautiful as father's one。
With wings spread out it flies so fast
It leaves the waves all white with foam。
Just whisper to me； blowing past；
If you have seen it sailing home。
I feel your breath upon my cheek；
And in my hair； and on my brow。
Dear winds； if you could only speak；
I know that you would tell me now。
My father's coming home； you'd say；
With precious presents； one； two； three；
A shawl for mother； beads for May；
And eggs and shells for Rob and me。
The winds sing songs where'er they roam；
The leaves all clap their little hands；
For father's ship is coming home
With wondrous things from foreign lands。
Gabriel Setoun ＇1861…
THE PIPER ON THE HILL
A Child's Song
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day；
And when he pipes both loud and shrill；
The frightened people say：
〃The wind； the wind is blowing up
'Tis rising to a gale。〃
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail。
The wind； the wind； the wind； the wind；
Is blowing to a gale。
But when he pipes all sweet and low；
The piper on the hill；
I hear the merry women go
With laughter； loud and shrill：
〃The wind； the wind is coming south
'Twill blow a gentle day。〃
They gather on the meadow…land
To toss the yellow hay。
The wind； the wind； the wind； the wind；
Is blowing south to…day。
And in the morn； when winter comes；
To keep the piper warm；
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm：
〃The snow； the snow has come at last！〃
The happy children call；
And 〃ring around〃 they dance in glee；
And watch the snowflakes fall。
The wind； the wind； the wind； the wind；
Has spread a snowy pall。
But when at night the piper plays；
I have not any fear；
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear；
And when each crowding spirit looks；
From its star window…pane；
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again。
The wind； the wind； the wind； the wind；
May blow her home again。
Dora Sigerson Shorter ＇1862…1918＇
THE WIND AND THE MOON
Said the Wind to the Moon； 〃I will blow you out；
You stare
In the air
Like a ghost in a chair；
Always looking what I am about …
I hate to be watched； I'll blow you out。〃
The Wind blew hard； and out went the Moon。
So； deep
On a heap
Of clouds to sleep；
Down lay the Wind； and slumbered soon；
Muttering low； 〃I've done for that Moon。〃
He turned in his bed； she was there again！
On high
In the sky；
With her one ghost eye；
The Moon shone white and alive and plain。
Said the Wind； 〃I will blow you out again。〃
The Wind blew hard； and the Moon grew dim。
〃With my sledge；
And my wedge；
I have knocked off her edge！
If only I blow right fierce and grim；
The creature will soon be dimmer than dim。〃
He blew and he blew； and she thinned to a thread。
〃One puff
More's enough
To blow her to snuff！
One good puff more where the last was bred；
And glimmer； glimmer； glum will go the thread。〃
He blew a great blast； and the thread was gone。
In the air
Nowhere
Was a moonbeam bare；
Far off and harmless the shy stars shone …
Sure and certain the Moon was gone！
The Wind he took to his revels once more；
On down；
In town；
Like a merry…mad clown；
He leaped and halloed with whistle and roar …
〃What's that？〃 The glimmering thread once more！
He flew in a rage … he danced and blew；
But in vain
Was the pain
Of his bursting brain；
For still the broader the Moon…scrap grew；
The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew。
Slowly she grew … till she filled the night；
And shone
On her throne
In the sky alone；
A matchless； wonderful silvery light；
Radiant and lovely； the queen of the night。
Said the Wind： 〃What a marvel of power am I！
With my breath；
Good faith！
I blew her to death …
First blew her away right out of the sky …
Then blew her in； what strength have I！
But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair；
For high
In the sky；
With her one white eye；
Motionless； miles above the air；
She had never heard the great Wind blare。
George Macdonald ＇1824…1905＇
CHILD'S SONG IN SPRING
The silver birch is a dainty lady；
She wears a satin gown；
The elm tree makes the old churchyard shady；
She will not live in town。
The English oak is a sturdy fellow；
He gets his green coat late；
The willow is smart in a suit of yellow；
While brown the beech trees wait。
Such a gay green gown God gives the larches …
As green as He is good！
The hazels hold up their arms for arches
When Spring rides through the wood。
The chestnut's proud； and the lilac's pretty；
The poplar's gentle and tall；
But the plane tree's kind to the poor dull city …
I love him best of all！
Edith Nesbit ＇1858…1924＇
BABY SEED SONG
Little brown brother； oh！ little brown brother；
Are you awake in the dark？
Here we lie cosily； close to each other：
Hark to the song of the lark …
〃Waken！〃 the lark says； 〃waken and dress you；
Put on your green coats and gay；
Blue sky will shine on you； sunshine caress you …
Waken！ 'tis morning … 'tis May！〃
Little brown brother； oh！ little brown brother；
What kind of flower will you be？
I'll be a poppy