Оглавление
- TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM. FROM HER BOY
- I. BED IN SUMMER
- II. A THOUGHT
- III. AT THE SEASIDE
- IV. YOUNG NIGHT THOUGHT
- V. WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN
- VI. RAIN
- VII. PIRATE STORY
- VIII. FOREIGN LANDS
- IX. WINDY NIGHTS
- X. TRAVEL
- XI. SINGING
- XII. LOOKING FORWARD
- XIII. A GOOD PLAY
- XIV. WHERE GO THE BOATS?
- XV. AUNTIE'S SKIRTS
- XVI. THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE
- XVII. THE LAND OF NOD
- XVIII. MY SHADOW
- XIX. SYSTEM
- XX. A GOOD BOY
- XXI. ESCAPE AT BEDTIME
- XXII. MARCHING SONG
- XXIII. THE COW
- XXIV. HAPPY THOUGHT
- XXV. THE WIND
- XXVI. KEEPSAKE MILL
- XXVII. GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN
- XXVIII. FOREIGN CHILDREN
- XXIX. THE SUN'S TRAVELS
- XXX. THE LAMPLIGHTER
- XXXI. MY BED IS A BOAT
- XXXII. THE MOON
- XXXIII. THE SWING
- XXXIV. TIME TO RISE
- XXXV. LOOKING-GLASS RIVER
- XXXVI. FAIRY BREAD
- XXXVII. FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE
- XXXVIII. WINTER-TIME
- XXXIX. THE HAYLOFT
- XL. FAREWELL TO THE FARM
- XLI. NORTH-WEST PASSAGE
- THE CHILD ALONE
- I. THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE
- II. MY SHIP AND I
- III. MY KINGDOM
- IV. PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER
- V. MY TREASURES
- VI. BLOCK CITY
- VII. THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS
- VIII. ARMIES IN THE FIRE
- IX. THE LITTLE LAND
- GARDEN DAYS
- I. NIGHT AND DAY
- II. NEST EGGS
- III. THE FLOWERS
- IV. SUMMER SUN
- V. THE DUMB SOLDIER
- VI. AUTUMN FIRES
- VII. THE GARDENER
- VIII. HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS
- ENVOYS
- I. TO WILLIE AND HENRIETTA
- II. TO MY MOTHER
- III. TO AUNTIE
- IV. TO MINNIE
- V. TO MY NAME-CHILD
- VI. TO ANY READER
THE CHILD ALONE
I. THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE
WHEN children are playing alone on the green,In comes the playmate that never was seen.When children are happy and lonely and good,The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.
Nobody heard him and nobody saw,His is a picture you never could draw,But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,When children are happy and playing alone.
He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why,The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!
He loves to be little, he hates to be big,'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig;'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of tinThat sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.
'Tis he, when at night you go off to your bed,Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your head;For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf,'Tis he will take care of your playthings himself!
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