NOT IN CLASSIC LOOK, BUT RICH IN THE CHILD-SAGAS OF THE KITCHEN KNEEL, ALL GLOWING, TO THE COOL SPRING NO BOY KNOWS WHEN HE GOES TO SLEEP JAMESY ON THE SLACK-ROPE ACROSS THE ORCHARD WHILE ALL THE ARMY, FOLLOWING, IN CHORUS CHEERS AND SINGS WHERE IT GOES WHEN THE FIRE GOES OUT? THE FAIRY QUEEN OF THE SEASONS PORE PA! PORE PA! SQUINT' OUR EYES AN' LAUGH' AGAIN HE'S A-MARCHIN' ROUND THE ROOM THE OLD TREE SAYS HE'S ALL OUR TREE THEREFORE READ NO LONGER SHE'S BUT A RACING SCHOOL-GIRL THEY WAS GOD'S PEOPLE THEM WUZ THE BEST TIMES EVER WUZ HE'S GO' HITCH UP, CHRIS'MUS-DAY, AN' COME TAKE ME BACK AGAIN WHEN WE DROVE TO HARMONY A BIG, HOLLOW, OLD OAK-TREE, WHICH HAD BEEN BLOWN DOWN BY A STORM THE YOUNG FOXES IN IT, ON THE HEARTH BESIDE HER AN' ALL BE POETS AN' ALL RECITE ALONG THE BRINK OF WILD BROOK-WAYS I LIKE TO WATCH HIM WHILE KATE PICKS BY, YET LOOKS NOT THERE LEND ME THE BREATH OF A FRESHENING GALE BOW TO ME IN THE WINDER THERE OUR "OLD-KRISS"-MILKMAN THE CHILDISH DREAMS IN HIS WISE OLD HEAD * * * * * THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN Bound and bordered in leaf-green, Edged with trellised buds and flowers And glad Summer-gold, with clean White and purple morning-glories Such as suit the songs and stories Of this book of ours, Unrevised in text or scene,-- The Book of Joyous Children. Wild and breathless in their glee-- Lawless rangers of all ways Winding through lush greenery Of Elysian vales--the viny, Bowery groves of shady, shiny Haunts of childish days. Spread and read again with me The Book of Joyous Children. What a whir of wings, and what Sudden drench of dews upon The young brows, wreathed, all unsought, With the apple-blossom garlands Of the poets of those far lands Whence all dreams are drawn Set herein and soiling not The Book of Joyous Children. In their blithe companionship Taste again, these pages through, The hot honey on your lip Of the sun-smit wild strawberry, Or the chill tart of the cherry; Kneel, all glowing, to The cool spring, and with it sip The Book of Joyous Children. As their laughter needs no rule, So accept their language, pray.-- Touch it not with any tool: Surely we may understand it,-- As the heart has parsed or scanned it Is a worthy way, Though found not in any School The Book of Joyous Children. [Illustration: "KNEEL, ALL GLOWING, TO THE COOL SPRING."] Be a truant--know no place Of prison under heaven's rim! Front the Father's smiling face-- Smiling, that _you_ smile the brighter For the heavy hearts made lighter, Since you smile with Him. Take--and thank Him for His grace-- The Book of Joyous Children. * * * * * AN IMPROMPTU FAIRY-TALE [Illustration]