FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS

[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]

[xiv] [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

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.

"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.