A Child's Garden of Verses. Robert Louis StevensonЧитать онлайн книгу.

      I HAVE a little shadow that goes in and out with me,

      And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

      He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

      And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

      The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow —

      Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

      For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,

      And sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

      He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,

      And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

      He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;

      I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

      One morning, very early, before the sun was up,

      I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;

      But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,

      Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

      EVERY night my prayers I say,

      And get my dinner every day;

      And every day that I've been good,

      I get an orange after food.

      The child that is not clean and neat,

      With lots of toys and things to eat,

      He is a naughty child, I'm sure —

      Or else his dear papa is poor.

      I WOKE before the morning, I was happy all the day,

      I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck to play.

      And now at last the sun is going down behind the wood,

      And I am very happy, for I know that I've been good.

      My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen smooth and fair,

      And I must off to sleepsin-by, and not forget my prayer.

      I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun arise,

      No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly sight my eyes,

      But slumber holds me tightly till I waken in the dawn,

      And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn.

      THE lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out

      Through the blinds and the windows and bars;

      And high overhead and all moving about,

      There were thousands of millions of stars.

      There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a tree,

      Nor of people in church or the Park,

      As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me,

      And that glittered and winked in the dark.

      The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all

      And the Star of the Sailor, and Mars,

      These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall

      Would be half full of water and stars.

      They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries,

      And they soon had me packed into bed;

      But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes,

      And the stars going round in my head.

      BRING the comb and play upon it!

      Marching, here we come!

      Willie cocks his highland bonnet,

      Johnnie beats the drum.

      Mary Jane commands the party,

      Peter leads the rear;

      Feet in time, alert and hearty,

      Each a Grenadier!

      All in the most martial manner

      Marching double-quick;

      While the napkin like a banner

      Waves upon the stick!

      Here's enough of fame and pillage,

      Great commander Jane!

      Now that we've been round the village,

      Let's go home again.

      THE friendly cow all red and white,