“Where are we going to live, Little Boy Blue? Where are we going to live, Boy Blue?” “Little Bo-Peep, Bo-Peep, Up in the hills with the sheep.” “And you’ll love your little Bo-Peep, Little Boy Blue?” “I’ll love you for ever and ever, Little Bo-Peep. I’ll love you for ever and ever, Bo-Peep.” “Little Boy Blue, my dear, Keep near, keep very near.” “I shall be always here, Little Bo-Peep.” [Illustration: Boy kissing girl; sheep playing] [Illustration: Swan reflected in water] THE MIRROR Between the woods the afternoon Is fallen in a golden swoon. The sun looks down from quiet skies To where a quiet water lies, And silent trees stoop down to trees. And there I saw a white swan make Another white swan in the lake; And, breast to breast, both motionless, They waited for the wind’s caress . . . And all the water was at ease. [Illustration: Boy seated on stairs] HALFWAY DOWN Halfway down the stairs Is a stair Where I sit. There isn’t any Other stair Quite like It. I’m not at the bottom, I’m not at the top; So this is the stair Where I always Stop. Halfway up the stairs Isn’t up, And isn’t down. It isn’t in the nursery, It isn’t in the town. And all sorts of funny thoughts Run round my head: “It isn’t really Anywhere! It’s somewhere else Instead!” [Illustration: Cattle in field] THE INVADERS In careless patches through the wood The clumps of yellow primrose stood, And sheets of white anemones, Like driven snow against the trees, Had covered up the violet, But left the blue-bell bluer yet. Along the narrow carpet ride, With primroses on either side, Between their shadows and the sun, The cows came slowly, one by one, Breathing the early morning air And leaving it still sweeter there. And, one by one, intent upon Their purposes, they followed on In ordered silence . . . and were gone. But all the little wood was still, As if it waited so, until Some blackbird on an outpost yew, Watching the slow procession through, Lifted his yellow beak at last To whistle that the line had passed. . . . Then all the wood began to sing Its morning anthem to the spring. [Illustration: Child hiding behind tree] BEFORE TEA Emmeline Has not been seen For more than a week. She slipped between The two tall trees at the end of the green . . . We all went after her. “_Emmeline!_” “Emmeline, I didn’t mean— I only said that your hands weren’t clean.” We went to the trees at the end of the green . . . But Emmeline Was not to be seen.