large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_10_stevenson_64kb_28
large/7359/childs_garden_of_verses_1503_librivox_64kb_mp3/childsgardenofverses_10_stevenson_64kb
English
7359
So, when my nurse comes in for me, Home I return across the sea, And go to bed with backward looks At my dear land of Story books. SO WHEN BIDERS CUBS IT FER ME HOPE I RETURN ACROSS THE SEA AND GO TO BED WITH BACKWARD LOOKS AT MY DEAR LAD'S STORY BOOKS
wn let it go! All in a moment the town is laid low. Block upon block lying scattered and free, What is there left of my town by the sea? Yet as I saw it, I see it again, The kirk and the palace, the ships and the men, And as long as I live and where'er I may be, I'll always remember my town by the sea. [Illustration] THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS At evening when the lamp is lit, Around the fire my parents sit; They sit at home and talk and sing, And do not play at anything. Now, with my little gun, I crawl All in the dark along the wall, And follow round the forest track Away behind the sofa back. There, in the night, where none can spy, All in my hunter's camp I lie, And play at books that I have read Till it is time to go to bed. These are the hills, these are the woods, These are my starry solitudes; And there the river by whose brink The roaring lions come to drink. I see the others far away As if in firelit camp they lay, And I, like to an Indian scout, Around their party prowled about. ITH PEASANTS AND THINGS NOW I HAVE DONE IT DOUBT LET IT GO ALL AT ABOVE IT THIS TOWER IS LAID LOW BLOCK UPON BLOCK LYING SCATTERED ON A TREE WHAT'S THERE LEFT O MY TOWN BY THE SEA YET AS I SAW IT AGAIN THE CROOK OF THE PATH THE SHIPS AND THE MEN AND AS LONG AS I LIVE I'LL REMEMBER WHERE I MAY BE I'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER MY TOWN BY THE SEA THE LAND OF STORY BOOKS AT EVENING WHEN THE LAMP IS LIT AROUND THE FIRE MY PARENTS SIT THEY SIT AT HOME AND TALK AND SING AND DO NOT PLAY AT ANYTHING NOW WITH MY LITTLE GUN I CRAWL ALL IN THE DARK ALONG THE WALL AND FOLLOW AROUND THE FOREST TRACK AWAY BEHIND THE SOFA BACK THERE IN THE NIGHT WHERE THAT COULD SPY ALL IN MY HUNTERS COUNT I LIE AND PLAY AT BOOKS THAT I HAVE READ TILL IT IS TIME TO GO TO BED THITHER THEY ALL THE OTHER THE WOOD THE OTHER BY STARRY SOLITUDE AND THERE THE RIVER BY WHOSE BRINK THE ROARING WIRE INS COME TO DRINK I I SEE THE OTHERS FAR AWAY AS IF IN FIRELIGHT CAMP THEY LAY AND I LIKE TO AN INDIAN SCALP AROUND THEIR PARTY PROWL ABOUT
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