large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_07_stevenson_64kb_5
large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_07_stevenson_64kb
English
7359
To house and garden, field and lawn, The meadow gates we swang upon, To pump and stable, tree and swing, Good bye, good bye, to everything! TO HOUSE AND GARDEN FIELD AND LAWN THE MEADOW GATES WE SWUNG UP HAUNT TO PUMP AND STABLE TREE AND SWING GOODBYE GOODBYE TO EVERYTHING
my comforter and cap; The cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose. Black are my steps on silver sod; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding-cake. [Illustration] [Illustration] THE HAYLOFT Through all the pleasant meadow-side The grass grew shoulder-high, Till the shining scythes went far and wide And cut it down to dry. Those green and sweetly smelling crops They led in waggons home; And they piled them here in mountain tops For mountaineers to roam. Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail, Mount Eagle and Mount High;-- The mice that in these mountains dwell, No happier are than I! Oh, what a joy to clamber there, Oh, what a place for play, With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air, The happy hills of hay! [Illustration: THE HAYLOFT] [Illustration] FAREWELL TO THE FARM The coach is at the door at last; The eager children, mounting fast And kissing hands, in chorus sing: Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! BIT OR WITH A REINDEER SLED EXPLORE THE COLDER COUNTRIES ROUND THE DOOR WHEN TO GO OUT MY NURSE THOUGH WRAPPED ME IN MY COMFORTER AND CAP THE COLD WIND BURNED MY FAITH AND BLOWS ITS FROSTY PEPPER UP MY NOSE BLACKER ARE MY STEPS ON SILVER SOD THICK BLOWS MY FROSTY THREAT ABROAD AND TREE AND HOUSE AND HILL AND LAKE ARE FROSTED LIKE A WE WEDDING CAKE THE HAY LOST THROUGH ALL THE PLEASANT MEADOW SIDE THE GRASS GREW SHOULDER HIGH TILL THE SHINING THIEF WENT FAR AND WIDE AND CUT IT DOWN TO DRY THOSE GREEN AND SWEETLY SMELLING CROPS THEY LED IN WAGONS HOME AND THEY PILED THEM HERE IN MOUNTAIN TOPS FOR MOUNTAINEERS TO ROME HERE IS MOUNT CLEAR MOUNT RUSKY NAIL WON'T EAGLE ENLD HIGH THE MICE THAT IN THESE MOUNTAINS DWELT NO HAPPIER THAN I O WHAT A JOY TO CLAMBER THERE O WHAT A PIT PLACE FOR PLAY WITH THE DIM THE DUSTY AIR THE HAPPY HILLS OF HAY FAREWELL TO THE FARM THE COACH IS AT THE DOOR AT LAST THE EAGER CHILDREN MOUNTING FAST AND KISSING HANDS AND CHORUS SAYING GOODBYE GOOD BYE TO EVERYTHING
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