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
V. THE DUMB SOLDIER
WHEN the grass was closely mown,Walking on the lawn alone,In the turf a hole I foundAnd hid a soldier underground.Spring and daisies came apace;Grasses hide my hiding place;Grasses run like a green seaO'er the lawn up to my knee.Under grass alone he lies,Looking up with leaden eyes,Scarlet coat and pointed gun,To the stars and to the sun.When the grass is ripe like grainWhen the scythe is stoned again,When the lawn is shaven clear,Then my hole shall reappear.I shall find him, never fear,I shall find my grenadier;But for all that's gone and come,I shall find my soldier dumb.He has lived, a little thing,In the grassy woods of spring;Done, if he could tell me true,Just as I should like to do.He has seen the starry hoursAnd the springing of the flowers;And the fairy things that passIn the forests of the grass.In the silence he has heardTalking bee and ladybird,And the butterfly has flownO'er him as he lay alone.Not a word will he disclose,Not a word of all he knows.I must lay him on the shelf,And make up the tale myself.
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