large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_12_stevenson_64kb_2
large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_12_stevenson_64kb
English
7359
Well now, and while the summer stays, To profit by these garden days O how much wiser you would be To play at Indian wars with me! WELL NOW AND WHILE THE SUMMER STAYS TO PROFIT BY THESE GARDEN DAYS O HOW MUCH WISER YOU WOULD BE TO PLAY AT INDIAN WORDS WITH ME
 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. [Illustration] [Illustration] AUTUMN FIRES In the other gardens And all up the vale, From the autumn bonfires See the smoke trail! Pleasant summer over And all the summer flowers, The red fire blazes, The grey smoke towers. Sing a song of seasons! Something bright in all! Flowers in the summer, Fires in the fall! [Illustration] THE GARDENER The gardener does not love to talk, He makes me keep the gravel walk; And when he puts his tools away, He locks the door and takes the key. Away behind the currant row, Where no one else but cook may go, Far in the plots, I see him dig, Old and serious, brown and big. He digs the flowers, green, red, and blue, Nor wishes to be spoken to. He digs the flowers and cuts the hay, And never seems to want to play. Silly gardener! summer goes, And winter comes with pinching toes, When in the garden bare and brown You must lay your barrow down. ALKING BE IT LADYBIRD AT THE BUTTERFLY HEATH FLOWN OVER HIM AS HE LAY ALONE NOT A WORD WILL HE DISCLOSE NOT A WORD OF ALL HE KNOWS I MUST LAY UPON THE SHELF AND MAKE UP THE TALE MYSELF AUTUMN FIRE IN THE OTHER GARDEN AND ALL UP THE VALE FROM THE AUTUMN BONFIRES HE SMOKE TRAIL PLEASANT SUMMER OVER AND ALL THOSE SUMMER FLOWERS THE RED FLY BLAZES THE RIFF FIRE BLAZES THE GRACEFUL FIGS OUT OF SEASONS SOMETHING GREAT AT ALL WIDER THAN THE SUMMER FIRES OF THE FALL THE GARDENER THE GARDENER DOES NOT LOVE TO TALK HE MAKES ME KEEP THE GRAVEL WALK AND WHEN HE PUTS HIS TOOLS AWAY HE LOCKS THE DOOR AND TAKES THE KEY AWAY BEHIND THE CURRANT ROW WHERE NO ONE ELSE BUT COOK MAY GO FAR IN THE PLOTS I SEE HIM DIG OLD AND SERIOUS BROWN AND BIG HE DIGS THE FLOWERS GREEN RED AND BLUE NOR WISHES TO BE SPOKEN TO HE DIGS THE FLOWERS AND CUTS THE HAY AND NEVER SEEMS TO WANT TO PLAY SILLY GARDENER SUMMER GOES AND IN WINTER COMES IN WITH PINCHING TOES WHEN IN THE GARDEN BARREN BROWN YOU MUST LAY YOUR BARROW DOWN
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