And to fire the penny cannon in the bow.

III
My Kingdom

Down by a shining water well
I found a very little dell,

No higher than my head.
The heather and the gorse about

In summer bloom were coming out,
Some yellow and some red.

I called the little pool a sea;
The little hills were big to me;

For I am very small.
I made a boat, I made a town,

I searched the caverns up and down,
And named them one and all.

And all about was mine, I said,
The little sparrows overhead,

The little minnows too.
This was the world and I was king;

For me the bees came by to sing,
For me the swallows flew.

I played there were no deeper seas,
Nor any wider plains than these,

Nor other kings than me.
At last I heard my mother call

Out from the house at evenfall,
To call me home to tea.

And I must rise and leave my dell,
And leave my dimpled water well,

And leave my heather blooms.
Alas! and as my home I neared,

How very big my nurse appeared.
How great and cool the rooms!

IV
Picture-books in Winter

Summer fading, winter comes--
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,

Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.

Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;

Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.

All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children's eye,

Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.

We may see how all things are
Seas and cities, near and far,

And the flying fairies' looks,
In the picture story-books.

How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,

Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?

V
My Treasures

These nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest,
Where all my tin soldiers are lying at rest,

Were gathered in Autumn by nursie and me
In a wood with a well by the side of the sea.

This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds!)
By the side of a field at the end of the grounds.

Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my own,
It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone!

The stone, with the white and the yellow and grey,
We discovered I cannot tell HOW far away;

And I carried it back although weary and cold,
For though father denies it, I'm sure it is gold.

But of all my treasures the last is the king,
For there's very few children possess such a thing;

And that is a chisel, both handle and blade,
Which a man who was really a carpenter made.

VI
Block City

What are you able to build with your blocks?
Castles and palaces, temples and docks.

Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,
But I can be happy and building at home.

Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea,
There I'll establish a city for me:

A kirk and a mill and a palace beside,
And a harbour as well where my vessels may ride.

Great is the palace with pillar and wall,
A sort of a tower on the top of it all,

And steps coming down in an orderly way
To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay.

This one is sailing and that one is moored:
Hark to the song of the sailors aboard!

And see, on the steps of my palace, the kings
Coming and going with presents and things!

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.

VII
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.

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.

VIII
Armies in the Fire

The lamps now glitter down the street;
Faintly sound the falling feet;

And the blue even slowly falls
About the garden trees and walls.

Now in the falling of the gloom
The red fire paints the empty room:

And warmly on the roof it looks,
And flickers on the back of books.

Armies march by tower and spire
Of cities blazing, in the fire;--

Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
The armies fall, the lustre dies.

Then once again the glow returns;
Again the phantom city burns;

And down the red-hot valley, lo!
The phantom armies marching go!

Blinking embers, tell me true
Where are those armies marching to,

And what the burning city is
That crumbles in your furnaces!

IX
The Little Land

When at home alone I sit
And am very tired of it,

I have just to shut my eyes
To go sailing through the skies--

To go sailing far away
To the pleasant Land of Play;

To the fairy land afar
Where the Little People are;

Where the clover-tops are trees,
And the rain-pools are the seas,

And the leaves, like little ships,
Sail about on tiny trips;

And above the Daisy tree
Through the grasses,

High o'erhead the Bumble Bee
Hums and passes.

In that forest to and fro
I can wander, I can go;

See the spider and the fly,
And the ants go marching by,

Carrying parcels with their feet
Down the green and grassy street.

I can in the sorrel sit
Where the ladybird alit.

I can climb the jointed grass
And on high

See the greater swallows pass
In the sky,

And the round sun rolling by
Heeding no such things as I.

Through that forest I can pass
Till, as in a looking-glass,

Humming fly and daisy tree
And my tiny self I see,

Painted very clear and neat
On the rain-pool at my feet.

Should a leaflet come to land
Drifting near to where I stand,

Straight I'll board that tiny boat
Round the rain-pool sea to float.

Little thoughtful creatures sit
On the grassy coasts of it;

Little things with lovely eyes
See me sailing with surprise.

Some are clad in armour green--
(These have sure to battle been!)--

Some are pied with ev'ry hue,
Black and crimson, gold and blue;

Some have wings and swift are gone;--
But they all look kindly on.

When my eyes I once again
Open, and see all things plain:

High bare walls, great bare floor;
Great big knobs on drawer and door;

Great big people perched on chairs,
Stitching tucks and mending tears,

• cannon [´kænən] n.大炮 (初中英语单词)
• whistle [´wisəl] v.吹哨 n.口哨；汽笛 (初中英语单词)
• carpenter [´kɑ:pintə] n.木工 vi.做木工活 (初中英语单词)
• carpet [´kɑ:pit] n.地毯 vt.铺地毯 (初中英语单词)
• orderly [´ɔ:dəli] a.整洁的 n.勤务兵 (初中英语单词)
• indian [´indiən] a.印度的 n.印度人 (初中英语单词)
• backward [´bækwəd] ad.向后 a.向后的 (初中英语单词)
• glitter [´glitə] n.光辉 vi.闪烁，炫耀 (初中英语单词)
• valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
• wander [´wɔndə, ´wɑ:n:dər] v.徘徊；流浪 (初中英语单词)
• spider [´spaidə] n.蜘蛛；三角架 (初中英语单词)
• armour [´ɑ:mə] (=armor) n.甲胄，盔甲 (初中英语单词)
• drawer [drɔ:ə] n.抽屉 (初中英语单词)
• nursery [´nə:səri] n.托儿所；苗床；养鱼场 (高中英语单词)
• pillar [´pilə] n.支柱 vt.用柱支持 (高中英语单词)
• thoughtful [´θɔ:tfəl] a.深思的；体贴的 (高中英语单词)
• crimson [´krimzən] a.&n.深(紫)红(的) (高中英语单词)
• chisel [´tʃizəl] n.凿子 v.凿；欺骗；干涉 (英语四级单词)
• starry [´stɑ:ri] a.星光照耀的，闪亮的 (英语四级单词)
• grassy [´grɑ:si] a.多草的；青草味的 (英语四级单词)
• leaflet [´li:flit] n.小叶；散页印刷品 (英语四级单词)
• heather [´heðə] n.石南属植物 (英语六级单词)
• phantom [´fæntəm] n.幽灵；幻影 a.幻想的 (英语六级单词)