SVNSHINF. - LAND THE LIBRARY OF THE OF LOS UNIVERSITY CALIFORNIA ANGELES / < fioofts fap ^fties (Lljomas. THE ROUND YEAR. Prose Papers. i6mo, gilt top, $1.25. LYRICS AND SONNETS. i6mo, gilt top, $1.25. THE INVERTED TORCH. Poems. i6mo,*i.oo. FAIR SHADOW LAND. i6mo, gilt top, $1.25. IN SUNSHINE LAND. Poems for Children. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50. HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. BOSTON AND NEW YORK. IN SUNSHINE LAND BY EDITH M. THOMAS WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY KATHARINE PYLE BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFL1N AND COMPANY 1895 Copyright, 1894, BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. All rights reserved. The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. 2.3 759449 SUNSHINE LAND They came in sight of a lovely shore, Yellow as gold in the morning light ; The surfs own color at noon it wore, And had faded not at the fall of night ; Clear weather or cloudy, V was all as one, The happy hills seemed bathed with the sun. Its secret the sailors could not understand, But they called this country Sunshine Land. What was the secret ? a simple thing (It will make you smile when once you know) : Touched by the tender finger of spring, A million blossoms were all aglow ; So many, so many, so small and bright, They covered the hills with a mantle of light ; And the wild bee hummed, and the glad breeze fanned, Through the honeyed fields of Sunshine Land. VI In Sunshine Land If over the sea we two were bound, What port, dear child, would we choose for ours ? We would sail, and sail, till at last we found This fairy gold of a million flowers. Yet, darling, we 'dfind, if at home we stayed, Of many small joys our pleasures are made ; More near than we think, very close at hand Lie the golden fields of Sunshine Land. SYLVIA AND THE BIRDS SYLVIA AND THE BIRDS How SPRING AND WINTER MET . A HANGING GARDEN ROBIN'S RETURN FAR IN THE WOODS IN MAY . THE CAT-BIRD PRAISE JUNE ROBIN'S SHARE EPITAPH FOR ROBIN REDBREAST TITANIA'S PEN THE QUAIL'S NEST BIRDS OF THE SlLKWEED BROOD . WINTER COMRADES THE VESPER-SPARROW FLOWER-FOLK AND OTHERS THE SINGING TREES THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE FLOWERS . THE WHISPER OF THE LEAVES . PAGE 3 26 28 29 3 1 32 33 35 36 37 39 4i 42 47 52 54 viii Contents WHAT THE ROSES SAID 56 " STAY so, SWEET SEASON " 57 BLUE-BELL HOLLOW 61 THE WORRIED VIOLET 62 INNOCENCE 63 THE SIGN OF THE GOLDENROD . . . . 65 THE FLOWER OF THE THISTLE .... 66 A NATURAL MATHEMATICIAN .... 67 THE STOLEN PANSIES 69 THE BUTTERFLY AND THE BEE .... 70 BUTTERFLY AND THISTLE-BALL . . . -71 BUTTERFLY HONEY 72 OAK AND ACORN 74 THE POPLAR-TREE 75 JUGGLERS OF THE Moss 76 AUTUMN FASHIONS 77 SNOWFLAKES 79 TALKING IN THEIR SLEEP 80 IN FANCY'S FIELDS " PLAY WITH ME ! " 85 JOHNNY'S SISTER APOLOGIZES .... 86 FRANKNESS 87 A CHILD'S LOGIC 87 "GRANDMOTHER'S GATHERING BONESET " . . 88 A BEAR STORY 89 LITTLE SISTER REHEARSES 90 THE LITTLE VERSE AT THE FOOT OF THE PAGE . 2 Contents ix OUR FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS IN SPECTACLES . . 93 THE MOLE 94 WHAT THE LAMBS SAY 95 STRAY CHILDREN 96 AGNES 97 LA MUSIQUE . . . . ... . ioi CRIES OF THE NEWSBOY 103 LOST ON THE ELEVATED ROAD .... 106 AN ITALIAN BOY SINGING IN THE STREET . . 107 IN "CHANGE "; THE YOUNG CASHIER . . 108 THE VASE THAT RAN AWAY 109 " GIVE THE BOYS A HOLIDAY " .... 109 " FLY ! " . .in WHERE FANCY LEADS A FIELD OF RYE . . . . . . . 115 TODLIN ISLAND 117 A SKY- VOYAGE 119 A WILD HORSE OF THE SEA 121 A LABRADOR TEAM 122 ROBIN HOOD AND His VETERANS .... 123 AN INTERVIEW WITH CAPTAIN KIDD . . . 124 FIRESIDE MAGIC 129 THE KING WHO TRAVELED AT HOME ... 131 How THE PINES WENT TO SEA .... 134 THE MIGRATION OF THE SQUIRRELS . . . 136 INVITATION TO ECHO 137 A SHOOTING STAR 141 x Contents THE YOUNG GEOLOGIST 142 THE FIELD OF THOUGHT 143 THWACK-THE-HOUSE-IN-THE-RIBS .... 144 WHO FILLS THE STOCKINGS 145 YE MERRIE CHRISTMAS FEAST 146 THE BURIED CHIMES OF CHRISTMAS ... 148 THE NEW YEAR'S CRADLE .... 150 HONEYTROPE 15! ylvia and the Birds IN SUNSHINE LAND SYLVIA AND THE BIRDS i A pleasant afternoon in autumn. Sylvia and her mother seated in a broad piazza, the bright leaves falling around. SYLVIA. 'VE brought the book, 1 now, won't you read to me How birds can speak and talk as well as we ? SYLVIA'S MOTHER takes the book and reads. THESTYLIS. Where have you been all this live- long houre ? l Randolph's Amyntas. 3 In Sunshine Land MOPSUS. I have been discoursing with the birds. THESTYLIS. Why, can birds speak ? JOCASTUS. In Fairy Land they can ; I have heard 'em chirp very good Greek and Latin. MOPSUS. And our birds talk better farre than they. . . . THESTYLIS. But what languages doe they .speak, servant? MOPSUS. Several languages, as Cawation, Chirpation, Hootation, Whistleation, Crowation, Cackleation, Shreekation, Hissation. SYLVIA (reflecting on what her mother has read}, When I was in the fields and woods to-day, What do you think / heard the birdies say ? MOTHER. My little Sylvia, I could never tell, But birds and children know each other well. What did they say ? SYLVIA. They all said just the same, But every one stopped talking when I came. They thought I 'd be so sorry when I knew What they had all made up their minds to do ! In Sunshine Land MOTHER. Indeed ! What were they going to do, dear heart ? SYLVIA. Oh, going away. To-night they mean to start. The Sparrows they kept flying on ahead And would n't let me hear a word they said ! The Bluebird seemed to go up in the sky, The Wren herself kept still when I passed by- But Robin (Robin Redbreast always goes And tells to everybody all he knows ; He never will keep shut his yellow mouth ! ) Dear Robin spoke out loud, " We're going south ! You '11 miss us, Sylvia dear, and we '11 miss you ! I wish oh how I wish you might go too! Perhaps you may " But that was all I heard, For some voice cried, "You gossip, silly bird ! " {After a pause?) Mother, I wish we could go south. In Sunshine Land MOTHER. Next year, Your father says he hopes to take us, dear. SYLVIA. But next year is so very far away ! This year is best ; " next year," you always say ! MOTHER. My darling has To-Day, for work or play ; What is the little verse about To-Day ? SYLVIA repeats the verse. To-Day is my treasure With all that is in it, - Each hour and each minute, For work or for pleasure ; Yet, watch as I may, It is running away With each hour and each minute ! II The scene as it really is : Sylvia's bedroom ; the bed with white curtains drawn ; Sylvia fast asleep. The scene as it appears to Sylvia : A Field close by the Woods, a Stream winding by. The sun has set, casting red gleams on the water. Birds in coun- cil, perched in the branches of the trees, in the bushes, and on the reeds by the Stream. Sylvia fancies her- self hidden behind a wild-rose bush listening to the talk of the Birds. Enter a little SNIPE (crying}. Peet-weet ! Peet-weet ! I 've such cold feet, And nothing to eat ! The Creek is so high That I can't keep dry Except when I fly ! Peet-weet ! A KILDEER. Kildee! Kildee ! Kildee! This is no place for me ! 7 In Sunshine Land The southland I must seek Kildee ! A BOBOLINK. Link-a-link ! Link-a-link ! My diet has made me weak ; The fields of rice must be so nice, (To the Kildee?) I '11 go with you, I think Link-a-link ! A RED-SHOULDERED BLACKBIRD. Bobaree ! Bobaree ! A frost you '11 see You '11 see to your sorrow, If you wait till to-morrow Bobaree ! A CHIPPING-BIRD. Chip-chip ! Chip-chip ! Chip-chip ! I '11 give November the slip ! A HOUSE-WREN. Sh! Sh! Sh! Every one loves the Wren ! Wait, and just once again In Sunshine Land I '11 go, and, as still as a mouse, Peep into the little house They built for my use alone, With a door and a porch like their own ! Sh! A MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT (interrupting). Witches here ! Witches here ! And no wonder so late in the year ! A FLOCK OF WILD GEESE (flying over). On ! On ! On ! Why should we longer stay ? On ! Ere the peep of day We should be leagues away, Quite out of sight of land ! Our old gray Commodore Will guide our gallant band To a pleasant southern shore, With the daintiest food in store ! On! On! On! A FLOCK OF SWALLOWS (rising). Zip ! Zip ! You may count on the Swallow ! We hear, and anear we will be ; The rest, if they like, may follow O'er land and o'er sea. io In Sunshine Land A BLUEBIRD (to her mate). Weary ! Oh weary ! Oh weary ! It 's a long, long, long way, dearie ! A ROBIN. Quip ! Quip ! Cheer up ! Cheer up ! But I think we ought first to sup ; With such a long journey ahead, Pilgrims should be well fed Quip ! Quip ! A HIGHHOLDER (shouts fro m the top of a dead tree). A-wick-wick ! wick-wick ! wick-wick ! wick ! Yare-op ! If all this senseless chatter you would stop, And listen, an announcement I would make : Old Father Crane will soon be here to take All you small folks upon his back Wick- wick 1 CHORUS OF SMALL BIRDS. (Chippy, Wren, Yellow- bird, Pewee, Kinglet, &r*c., &*c., Qr'c.') Peet-weet! Zit ! Zit ! Cheeree! Ittee ! Be quick ! Ill Crane arrives. Bows indulgently to the assembly of Birds. CRANE. Don't hustle so ! There 's room enough for all. Take care ! take care ! you little chick, you '11 fall ! The small Birds proceed to settle themselves on the Crane* s back, nestling comfortably under his thick feathers. (To the Humming-Bird.} Why, aren't you coming ? HUMMING-BIRD. No ! I may be small, But I 'm as swift as any one that flies ! 12 In Sunshine Land And brave ! My independence, tpo, I prize ! I '11 see Honduras first of any one ; You '11 find me sipping sweets beneath the sun. CRANE. Well, saucy midget, we shall see ! Good-by. (To Birds on his back.} Are you all ready now ? If so, I '11 fly. They are about to fly, when Sylvia rises up from be- hind the wild-rose bush. SYLVIA. I 'd like to ask one question, if I might, But I 'm afraid you'll think me impolite. SMALL BIRDS (alarmed and indignant}. What here ! Whittee ! Chee ! chee ! Chack ! chack ! Who 's here ? Chack ! chack ! Chee ! chee ! Some enemy, I fear ! The Birds bustle and look fierce. Out steps a Robin the one that had spoken to Sylvia the same day in the fields, and addresses the throng. In Sunshine Land 15 THE ROBIN. I am surprised ! ashamed ! why, can't you tell ? It 's Sylvia's voice ! She knows and loves us well! ALL THE SMALL BIRDS (together). Oh, if it 's only Sylvia, let her stay. CRANE (with dignity, turning to Sylvia). My little friend, what did you wish to say ? SYLVIA. I shouldn't keep you waiting it's a shame But, Mr. Crane, have you another name ? CRANE. No, not exactly but I read your thought ; You 're thinking of that book your uncle brought, With stories of the little ones that wear Queer wooden shoes that clatter on the stair, And how old Father Stork takes loving care Of them. Now, are n't you ? 1 6 In Sunshine Land SYLVIA. Yes ! Oh, Mr. Crane, How can you read my thoughts so very plain ? CRANE. I 'm his first cousin in America ; I carry little birds to Florida. SYLVIA (eagerly). Perhaps perhaps you '11 make my wish come true ! There 's something I would like so much to do: You're going south ! I wish I could go too ! SMALL BIRDS (tauntingly). Tut, tut ! ha ! ha ! wittee ! she has no wings ! These human birdies ask the strangest things ! SYLVIA (a little crossly, addressing the small birds). If I had wings, as you have, you should see I would n't beg some one to carry me ! In Sunshine Land THE WREN {maliciously, to the rest). Sh ! Sh ! She means old Father Crane and lis ! His wings are broad no use in such a fuss ! CRANE (to Sylvia). My wings are broad, and I would carry you, But then what would these little people do ? SMALL BIRDS (begin to scold). Twit ! twit ! Chee ! chee ! You promised CRANE. Hush ! no bird Shall ever say that I would break my word. SYLVIA (has a bright thought). ^Jh, Mr. Crane, please call the Roc ! If he Could carry Sinbad, he could carry me : I only weigh SMALL BIRDS (mockingly). Ha ! ha ! We never heard We don't believe that there is such a bird ! 1 8 In Sunshine Land CRANE (reprovingly). You must n't flirt your tails, and titter so ; Remember, all that human birdies know, They learn from books, while you are sent to school, Among the branches fanned by breezes cool, Or learn your lessons in some flowery nook : She read of Sinbad in a foolish book ! SYLVIA (disappointedly to the Crane). Then, I can't go ! CRANE (meditating). Hm ! let me see ; ah, yes ! You never wore swan's down upon your dress ? SYLVIA. No, Mr. Crane ; nor humming-birds ; nor wings Upon my hat ! I would n't do such things I CRANE. Then, I '11 arrange, at once, for you to go ! A lovely friend of mine, as white as snow, In Sunshine Land 19 Will soon be here with wings so broad and strong, That they will swiftly carry you along, Like sails of ships ! And you may lay your hand Upon his neck where all the feathers stand Like petals of white lilies, smooth and white. A Swan floats in, and greets Mr. Crane; slightly nodding to the other Birds. SWAN. ^Jo0d-evening, friend, if I have heard aright, You meant to start by early owlet light ? SMALL BIRDS (impatiently). TwitlVtwit ! Chee ip ! We shan't get off to- CRANE (to the Swan). 'T is true that we have been somewhat de- layed ; A little unfledged bird has sought our aid (indicating Sylvia by a nod of his head). She 's none of ours, and yet she is, you '11 own, 20 In Sunshine Land The sweetest chick a human nest has known ; She asks to go. How can we leave her here alone ? SWAN. That must not be. I '11 be her floating steed, And in my beak I '11 take this long green reed For bit, and give the rein into her hand ; And so we '11 sail above the sea and land ! IV Sylvia and the Swan converse, while the other Birds are making final preparations for flight. It grows late, and the stars come out. SYLVIA. How good you are, dear Swan how kind and good ! I 'd try to thank you, if I ever could ! {Confidentially^} Ipfcase, may I tell you something -^^rou won't mind ? You do look like the Swan I fed with cake, In Central Park, the Swan upon the lake ! SWAN. Hush ! hush ! I was a doleful captive then, But I escaped the tiresome haunts of men ! SYLVIA. Oh, tell me 22 In Sunshine Land SWAN. No, not now, my little maid, Climb up ! Climb up ! the light begins to fade! But all the stars are out no fear of rain. All 's well. Now, give the signal, Father Crane. The little folks, as we rise on the wing, Will try that parting-song they always sing. The little Birds on the Crane's back sing, one by one dropping off to sleep, as the Crane sails steadily along. Sylvia is carried by the Swan. CHORUS OF LITTLE BIRDS. To wing ! to wing ! to wing ! Whit tu ! whit tu ! Up from the earth we spring ; Summer has gone, and we, too, Must say adieu Whit tu ! To weet ! to weet ! to weet ! To where ? to where ? The breath of the summer is sweet, But chill is the wintry air, In Sunshine Land 23 And the forests are bare To where ? Oh when ? oh when ? oh when ? I ween ! I ween ! I ween ! We go, but we '11 come again ! When the land is smiling and green, We '11 be heard and be seen I ween ! The whole Flock move swiftly on, increasing their speed every moment. The Swan with Sylvia leaves the others far below. SYLVIA (a little anxiottsly). Shall we go on, and on, and on, and on, Till we are up among the stars, dear Swan ? Because SWAN. What if we do ? I often roam Far up in Heaven, to visit my old home. How often you have seen me shining there, Among the Constellations ! Then I wear Two stars in place of eyes ! Why do you weep? 24 In Suns/iine Land SYLVIA (crying softly), Because my mother SWAN (interrupting her, and always flying faster). Pretty, soft, white sheep On Heaven's hillside you shall have, to keep ; You '11 be a little shepherdess in blue, And the bright moon will always smile on you ! Why don't you want to go ? SYLVIA. Because SWAN (looking towards his old home). Well, why? SYLVIA. Because O mother ! Sylvia wakes ; her mother comes to her. MOTHER. There, there, there, don't cry ! In Sunshine Land 25 SYLVIA. The Swan ! I thought that we were going south I thought I pulled the bridle in his mouth ; 'T was lonesome, without you, in Heaven ! The Swan O mother, did you know where I had gone ? MOTHER. There, tell me in the morning it will keep ; There, dear ! hold mother's hand and go to sleep. (Stofft.) Fly east, fly west Fly home, to rest, And mother will sing you a song of sleep ! Sleep in the nest With white curtains dressed, Till sunbeams in at the window peep. Sylvia falls asleep. 26 In Sunshine Land HOW SPRING AND WINTER MET [HE Winter and the Spring were met : The Winter threw a fleecy net, And caught the young Spring over-night. He put to sleep the budding tree Within a cloister dim and white ; And the little golden crocus flower, That comes too early for the bee, He hid away from sunrise hour. The brook was conscious of his power, And lost its trick of babbling words. But Spring awoke, despite his craft, And out of window looked and laughed. At first he set to sing all birds, With twittering voices small and clear, And bade them say they felt no grief In Sunshine Land 27 To find the snow and mildewed leaf Heaped up in nests they built last year. Then from a crystal alcove high, The bluebird caroled to the sky. The robin whistled, cheer, good cheer ! The sparrow rung his matin bells, And far away in reedy dells The quail a friendly greeting sent. Then was the stifled pine not loth To shuffle off the dull white sloth ; Then leaped the brook by icy stair, And snapped his fetters as he went ; The sun shone out, most full and fair, And Winter rose and struck his tent. 28 In Sunshine Land A HANGING GARDEN T was an empty robins' nest Left over from last year ! And yet it held a tender guest, That wept a dewdrop tear. It turned its eye upon the sky - The wind the tear brushed off ; And when the sun came out on high, Its elfin cap 't would doff. The guest 't was but a chickweed flower, The tiniest ever seen Made of the robins' nest a bower, And kept their memory green. Who knows how there the seedling grew, With leaves and flowering stem ? So long ago the robins flew, You cannot ask of them ! In Sunshine Land 29 ROBIN'S RETURN OBIN on the tilting bough, Redbreast rover, tell me how You the weary time have passed Since we saw and heard you last. " In a green and pleasant land, By a summer sea-breeze fanned, Orange-trees with fruit are bent, There the weary time I 've spent." Robin rover, there, no doubt, Your best music you poured out ; Piping to a stranger's ear, You forgot your lovers here. " Little lady, on my word, You do wrong a true-heart bird ! Not one ditty would I sing, 'Mong the leaves or on the wing, In the sun or in the rain ; Stranger's ear would list in vain. If I ever tried a note, Something rose within my throat. 3 In Sunshine Land " 'T was because my heart was true To the North and spring-time new ; My mind's eye a nest could see In yon old, forked apple-tree ! " In Sunshine Land 31 FAR IN THE WOODS IN MAY |AR in the woods, the fresh green woods in May, Once sang a bird ; but all it found to say Was " Keep it ! keep it ! " all the merry day. The bird ? I never saw it, no, not I ! I followed, but it flitted far on high ; And " Keep it ! keep it ! " Echo caught the cry. I was so glad as through the woods I went ! And now I think that " Keep it ! keep it ! " meant, " Child, keep each happy thought that Heaven has sent." In Sunshine Land THE CAT-BIRD E sits on a branch of yon blossom- ing bush, This madcap cousin of robin and thrush, And sings without ceasing the whole morning long ; Now wild, now tender, the wayward song That flows from his soft, gray, fluttering throat ; But often he stops in his sweetest note, And, shaking a flower from the blossoming bough, Drawls out, " Mi-eu, mi-ow ! " Dear merry mocker, your mimic art Makes drowsy Grimalkin awake with a start, In Sunshine Land 33 And peer all around with a puzzled air For who would suppose that one would dare To mimic the voice of a mortal foe ! You 're safe on the bough, as well you know ; And if ever a bird could laugh, 't is you, Drawling, " Mi-ow, mi-eu ! " PRAISE JUNE | RAISE June! Morning and noon, And when the day closes ; Praise her for roses, The tame and the wild, Queen of the garden, and sweet-brier's child ! Praise June ! Praise for the clover, The gypsy, the rover, The nurse of the bee By wayside and lea ! Praise for the splendor Of those that attend her, The oriole's breast, And the butterfly dressed 34 In Sunshine Land From the booths of the East ! For songs, and a feast, In the strawberry meadow, Where grass throws a shadow, Where bobolinks, swinging, Keep time with their singing ; For the purple flag blowing, Where slow streams are flowing ; For the long day's light, And the murmuring night, When nests overcrowded, With dewy leaves shrouded, Pipe a short tune, When the wind through the trees makes a path for the mooji ! Praise June ! In Sunshine Land 35 ROBIN'S SHARE N the grass, where no one knows, Sweetest there the berry grows, Fuller cups of dew it drinks, More of sun into it sinks, Spicier breezes visit there, And June gives it kindlier care. Why look out to plough and sow ? Why to market should I go ? Far-brought dainties tempt me not ! Here 's a thrifty garden-plot, Here where fields have run to waste. Wilding berries suit my taste ; Though the robin gathers half, (Ripest halves !) I only laugh : June that spread this feast for me, Bade poor robin, too, make free ! In Sunshine Land EPITAPH FOR ROBIN REDBREAST HOU shalt have a little bed Made for thee, and overspread With brown leaves for coverlet, Which the tearful dew has wet. I, among the songs of Spring Will miss the song thou didst not sing. In Sunshine Land 37 TITANIA'S PEN HUMMING-BIRD had plumed his wing With nice fastidious bill, And Oberon, the fairy king, Picked up a fallen quill. Quoth he, " Of this I '11 make a pen, The neatest ever seen." He trimmed the tiny quill, and then He gave it to his queen. The fair Titania wrote a book With this same elfin quill ; The dainty pen I have it, look ! The book I search for still. 3 8 In Sunshine Land Perhaps 't is hid among the ferns, Or in some squirrel's cell, Or from its leaves the young bird learns In easy notes to spell. In Suns /line Land 39 stM *-*"y^ifc/ -Vsitiftn"" THE QUAIL'S NEST A TRUE INCIDENT ANY a foot in the rustling meadow Strode onward and never stayed ; In place of the harvester's swing- ing sickle, Flashed many a warlike blade ; While here a plume, and there a banner, On the stream of the light wind swayed. The brooding mother of nestlings many Called them again and again, And her heart beat fast with fear and sorrow, For the mother-call was vain, As on their callow wings they fluttered Up from the grassy plain 4 In SiinsJiine Land Fluttered, and wavered, and would have fallen, But, as on the battalion pressed, Many a soldier, grim or smiling, Welcomed a downy guest, And under his blouse of blue was sheltered The waif from a ruined nest. "Tis a sign of good luck! " cried one blithe spirit, " 'T is a sign we shall win the day ! " And one, as he shielded the fluttering tru- ant, Thought of nestlings far away. Then they all swept on where, under the smoke-wreath, The fire of the battle lay. At evening the heavy heart of a soldier Under his blouse grew light, When he saw how the quail-mother's sleepy darling Had folded its wings for the night : 'T was the soldier who thought of his own dear nestlings That morn, as he entered the fight. In Sunshine Land BIRDS OF THE SILKWEED BROOD N August the birds of the silk- weed rest, By fours and fives, round the par- ent nest ; Never a note they pour on the air, Rusty green are the coats they wear These birds of the silkweed brood. In September they change their rusty green For the finest plumage ever was seen ; Then, spreading their snowy plumes, they fly, Silent and light, through the hazy sky These birds of the silkweed brood. Now swift, now slow as the wind may blow, By meadow and stream, they come and go, In Sunshine Land And wherever was only one before, Now you may count a hundred, or more, Of these birds of the silkweed brood. WINTER COMRADES LUME and go, ye summer folk ; Fly from Winter's killing stroke, Bluebird, sparrow, thrush, and swallow ; Wild geese from the marshes fol- low, Wood-dove from the lonesome hollow, Rise, and follow south all follow ! Now I greet ye, hardy tribes, That refuse the southland's bribes ; Snowy owl, and night-black crow Startling with your wild halloo ; Blue-jay screaming like the wind In the tree-tops gaunt and thinned ; You, in summer called " Bob White " (Voice of far-off fields' delight), Now among the barnyard brood Fearless searching for your food ; In Sunshine Land 45 Nuthatch, snowbird, chickadee, Downy tapper on the tree ; And you twittering goldfinch drove (Masked in gray), that blithely rove Where the herby pastures show Tables set above the snow ; And ye other flocks that ramble Where the red hip trims the bramble, Or the rowan berry bright And the scarlet haw invite Winter comrades, well betide ye, Friendly trunk and hollow hide ye, Hemlock branches interlace, When the northern blast gives chase. And ye four-foot creatures small, Fortune fair to you befall ! Mice that visit to and fro In your runways 'neath the snow ; You that oft our granaries seek Chuckling thief with pouched cheek ; Squirrel gray or squirrel red, Who, from branches overhead, Down the riddled nutshell flings ; And ye timid, wind-fleet things, That our tender fruit-trees spoil 46 In Sunshine Laud With your nibbling midnight toil, When the Yule-tide fire is low, And the Yule stars keenest glow ; And ye quiet citizens, That keep closer in your dens, Without window, without latch ; Muskrat under reedy thatch ; Woodchuck, you that sleeping pass All the time till Candlemas, When you rise and promptly show Weather-signs you only know ; Winter comrades, snugly furred, Warmly feathered, beast and bird, Thus I greet ye, wish ye cheer, Now at midnight of the year ! In Sunshine Land 47 THE VESPER-SPARROW T comes from childhood land, Where summer days are long And summer eves are bland, A lulling good-night song. Upon a pasture stone, Against the fading west, A small bird sings alone, Then dives and finds its nest. The evening star has heard, And flutters into sight ; O childhood's vesper-bird, My heart calls back, Good Night. THE SINGING TREES IN THE ORCHARD HITE are the singing trees, And every breath of the breeze Scatters a drift of bloom And a honey-sweet perfume ; While above and all around Is a gentle murmuring sound. In this music so low and sweet Labor and pleasure meet ; Every small minstrel goes home, And adds to the great yellow comb Stored for the midwinter feast, When the gift of the flowers has ceased. Hark to the singing trees, So full of blossoms and bees ! 5 2 In Sunshine Land THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE FLOWERS |HE Mayflower, with her little rosy feet, Ran out to meet the Spring, all sweet and shy. Blue Violets in the meadow had their seat, Where they could see their home, the azure sky. The Windflower was a wandering child of air, She came upon the soft wind from the south ; She had fine garments given her to wear, In color like a sea-shell's curling mouth. A country lass that never dared look up, The Trillium in the shadow chose to grow. The Dandelion and the Buttercup Were touched by Midas' finger long ago. The Primrose slipped away from moonlight land, All faint and wan, delicious with the dew, In Sunshine Land 53 And would not open till a moonbeam spanned The evening dusk, and tender kisses threw. The Water-lily was a naiad's child ; The Bindweed was a wanderer pale and worn ; The pleading Rose, upon the bramble wild, A captive maiden looking forth forlorn. The red Lobelia lit a fire, and flung The embers all around a shady dell ; The Daisy had a gypsy's crafty tongue, And youthful fortunes glibly would she tell ! The Asters were a shower of stars that fell Amid the dimness of an autumn night. Witch-hazel woke, and cheerly cried, " All 's well ! " And met with smiles the dull November light. 54 In Sunshine Land THE WHISPER OF THE LEAVES HEAR the voice of Summer Above the voice of Spring ; The birds are still beside it, How loud soe'er they sing. I hear the voice of Summer And yet 't is small and weak, Soft, light, and all uncertain, As though a flower should speak ! But yesterday 't was silent, The trees were gray and bare ; To-day a myriad murmur Is floating everywhere. It comes with dappling shadows . Through which the sunbeam weaves ; It draws its breath from zephyr This whisper of the leaves ! I know not it rejoices, I know not if it grieves ; In Sunshine Land 5 5 It has no tone nor accent, This whisper of the leaves. I heard it, far in dreamland, On bitter winter eves, The wished-for voice of Summer, The whisper of the leaves ! 56 In Sunshine Land WHAT THE ROSES SAID TOLD the roses that bloomed in my garden A tale they were loth to hear ; Of thorns uncovered, of frosts, and of Winter, The crabbed old age of the year ! The darlings of June they wouldn't be- lieve me ! They asked what proof I could show ; Would I bring but a shred of the robe of Winter ; A lock from the fleece of the snow ? Year after year they had bloomed in my garden, And never such change had they seen ; In Sunshine Land 57 It was true they had slept, but, as oft as they wakened, The season was smiling and green ! " STAY SO, SWEET SEASON " A SPRING SONG WISH that the feet of the dancing child April that trips to the wind-flute wild Could be stayed from their mo- tion, and rest awhile Till the showery sky shall wear a smile, Till the thrush calls twice, and the crocus looks up And invites the bee with her honeyed cup ! Sweet, sweet, you 've no reason To hurry away ; Stay so, sweet Season, Stay, oh stay ! * And I wish that the May with her fair cool face Might linger awhile in her native place, 58 In Suns/line Land Till the fruit and the thorn tree reach her down A handful of blossoms, to weave her a crown ; But the blossoms around her unheeded fall, She listens she follows some far-off call ! Sweet, sweet, you 've no reason To hurry away ; Stay so, sweet Season, Stay, oh stay ! In Sunshine Land 61 BLUEBELL HOLLOW HERE 'S a fairy in Blue-bell Hol- low Who wakes in the spring of the year; She calls and the children hear, She calls, and the children follow Down Blue-bell Hollow. There the flowers are blue, And so is the dew That hangs in their bells, And the little brook too, Half-hidden from view, Is of just the same hue : 62 In Sunshine Land All done by the spells Of the fairy who dwells In Blue-bell Hollow ! THE WORRIED VIOLET Y woodside ways, in moist green nooks, A small pale violet holds its place ; Three lines are in its tender face How careworn and how sad it looks ! While every other violet Blooms thoughtless in the shade or sun, What secret has this little one, What trouble it cannot forget ? In Sunshine Land 6 3 "INNOCENCE" VERSES SENT WITH BLUETS TO A LITTLE GIRL | FIELD I met a darling crowd Of blossom-children sweet, (Dear Mother Nature must be proud, These children keep so neat) ; So thick they stood, I cried aloud, " I dare not move my feet ! " Their dresses all were like the sky When clouds have filmed the blue, And each one had a sunny eye, And Heaven-secrets knew ; But some, not wide awake, or shy, Their heads bent down from view. I touched the tallest in a row : " Dear heart ! your name I 'd call, If you your name would please to show." A voice came faint and small : "My name I truly do not know ; I 'm Innocence, that 's all ! " 64 In Sunshine Land Now, there's a child-flower soft and bright, And Innocence is she ; I thought these blossom-children might Her very sisters be ; And so I sent them, blue and white, To Dorothea G. In Sunshine Land THE SIGN OF THE GOLDENROD HEN Indian corn is in the shock, And south-bound birds begin to flock, And seed-plumes fly, and gossa- mer drifts, Then goldenrod its sign uplifts. Its healthful breath is in the air ; Its stores the tame and wild bees share ; Lone country roads and woodward lanes It decks as if for kingly trains. The farmer's boy will often stop To pull a plume of " yellow-top," And little children fill their arms With this free treasure of the farms. 66 In Sunshine Land It blooms for all it shines for me ! Since near or far I can but see A sunlight stolen from the past, A gleam from days too blithe to last. THE FLOWER OF THE THISTLE 'M a queen of pride and splendor, Throne and purple lack not I ; Never yet I made surrender, Foe and lover I defy ! Never shall the red-mouthed cattle Crop me like the simple grass ; Arms presented I give battle, If a step too near they pass. Yet I 've friends to make me merry ; I have bribes to win the bee ; My fine bird, the wild canary, Tips his jaunty cap to me. In the Autumn I go sailing, Up, and out of sight of men, In Sunshine Land 67 Till the lazy zephyr failing Lets me down to earth again. I 'm a queen of pride and splendor, Throne and purple lack not I ; You may call me wild, untender, You may praise, or pass me by ! A NATURAL MATHEMATICIAN HERE dwells mid thorns and viny tangles, In freakish colors dressed, A sage who dotes on curves and angles And many a curious test, Yet ne'er was found in learned wrangles, And ne'er was known to jest. Pose him with line or conic section ! To demonstrate its laws And show their close and fine connection, He sets about and draws With noiseless care and shrewd inspection Some shimmering threads of gauze. 68 fn Sunshine Land To close a circle in triangle, He thinks no great affair Straight out from thorn and viny tangle, 'T is sketched upon the air, And floats, a filmy silver spangle For bright-eyed Morn to wear ! In Sunshine Land 69 THE STOLEN PANSIES HE reached through the fence (if the truth must be told), And her chubby hands had all they could hold ! But she never in all her life before, Had seen the faces these pansies wore ! One looked like an urchin, a smirch on its cheek, And it said as plainly as pansy could speak, " It 's stealing, you know, and I '11 tell the whole town ! " One, like an ogre, wore a dark frown, And looked at her hard with its terrible eye, " Little girl, you dare not look up to the sky ! " 7 In Sunshine Land One drooped its sweet head, reproachful, yet mild, " You Ve killed me, but I '11 forgive you, poor child ! " Then they all looked at her, and looked at each other, " You bad little girl, You sad little girl, Leave us ! run home, run home to your mother ! " THE BUTTERFLY AND THE BEE FROM THE FRENCH |F the weather is fair," Said the butterfly, jaunty and free, " If the weather is fair, I '11 go dance in the meadow there ! " " And I," said the prudent bee, " Will be early at work, you will see, If the weather is fair ! " In Sunshine Land BUTTERFLY AND THISTLE-BALL AINTED WINGS hailed Silver Sphere, Riding through the heavens clear : " O you lovely fragile waif, Without wings to make you safe, Tell me how it is you dare Seek your fortunes through the air ! " Silver Sphere touched Painted Wings Softly, in their wanderings : " Nay, but tell me, traveler fine, How, without a wheel like mine, You can venture as you do Up the wide and breezy blue ! " 7 2 In Sunshine Land BUTTERFLY HONEY EY, my gay rover ! Skimming the crest of the clover, Happy-go-lucky, ne'er-do-weel fellow, Idlest of creatures alive ! Why not provide you a hive, And store it with good things dulcet and mellow ? I '11 come, by and by, to see how you thrive. ii For butterfly honey Is rarer than Oberon's money : I 've heard of a few that found the bright penny, But if ever you left one sip Of sweet on a petal's tip, At least, 't was never my luck to find any, Though searching the blossom from heart to lip. In Sunshine Land 73 in 'T will be my good pleasure To come and partake of your treasure ; Wine o' the lilac and daffydowndilly, And all the dainties you found, Making your May-morning round, And midsummer thefts from the rose and the lily : With goldenrod cordial the feast shall be crowned. IV (The Butterfly replies^ Ha, ha ! but I 'm wiser Than you, my thoughtful adviser, - My eloquent friend, my silver - tongued suitor ! I am no slaving bee, To pay you your lordly fee ! Ha, ha ! a hive for a gallant freebooter ! No honey of mine you ever shall see ! 74 In Sunshine Land OAK AND ACORN AID a stark and proud Oak-tree, " Acorn do not boast to me ! " Quick the delving Acorn spoke, " Don't despise me, Gaffer Oak ! ' OAK. " Youngling, look I seek the skies ! " ACORN. " I go down, but I will rise ! " OAK. " I of yesterdays have store ! " ACORN. " Of to-morrows i have more ! " OAK. " Many histories I can tell ! " ACORN. " I of hopes can speak as well ! " In Sunshine Land 75 THE POPLAR-TREE WONDER if the poplar-tree Is standing, as it used to stand, Beside the street, the first to greet The traveler to the Pleasant Land! It seemed to see the morning sun Before he rose above the hill, And the stars go down behind the town When summer nights were clear and still. 7 6 In Sunshine Land And yet its leaves forever sighed I thought because it stood alone, Alone and straight, outside the gate, No sister tree to call its own ! And when I left the Pleasant Land, And scarcely through my tears could see, 'T was last to say, from far away, A sad and kind good-by to me. JUGGLERS OF THE MOSS OME time you will come across Elfin jugglers in the moss. This will be the way they '11 look In their shady forest nook : Gray-green faces, gray -green hair, Gray-green are the clothes they wear. Some are short and some are tall, Light and nimble are they all, Nodding this way, nodding that Pointed cap or plumed hat ; Now on tiptoe spinning round, Now with forehead to the ground ; Bowing last, their hands they kiss. In Sunshine Land 77 But the strangest thing is this, Though you go and come again, In these postures they remain, And your movements never heed. Have you seen them ? Then, indeed, You can say that you have been Where King Oberon and his Queen Oft in summer-time do go To the elfin jugglers' show. AUTUMN FASHIONS HE Maple owned that she was tired of always wearing green, She knew that she had grown, of late, too shabby to be seen ! The Oak and Beech and Chestnut then de- plored their shabbiness, And all, except the Hemlock sad, were wild to change their dress. " For fashion-plate we '11 take the flowers," the rustling Maple said, " And like the Tulip I '11 be clothed in splen- did gold and red ! " 7 8 In Sunshine Land " The cheerful Sunflower suits me best," the lightsome Beech replied ; "The Marigold my choice shall be," the Chestnut spoke with pride. The sturdy Oak took time to think "I hate such glaring hues ; The Gillyflower, so dark and rich, I for my model choose." So every tree in all the grove, except the Hemlock sad, According to its wish ere long in brilliant dress was clad. And here they stand through all the soft and bright October days ; They wished to be like flowers indeed, they look like huge bouquets ! In Sunshine Land 79 SNOWFLAKES HAT are you you delicate stray things, Floating and falling Through the soft air ? Are you some child-angel's play- things, Gone past recalling, Dropped unaware ? Did he, to the stars a near neighbor, A smiling-eyed dreamer, Study their form, Then make you with lightest of labor Young heavenly schemer Above the white storm ? 8o In Sunshine Land TALKING IN THEIR SLEEP OU think I am dead," The apple-tree said, " Because I have never a leaf to show Because I stoop, And my branches droop, And the dull gray mosses over me grow ! But I 'm all alive in trunk and shoot ; The buds of next May I fold away But I pity the withered grass at my root." " You think I am dead," The quick grass said, " Because I have parted with stem and blade ! But under the ground I am safe and sound In Sunshine Land 81 With the snow's thick blanket over me laid. I 'm all alive and ready to shoot, Should the spring of the year Come dancing here But I pity the flower without branch or root." " You think I am dead," A soft voice said, " Because not a branch or root I own ? I never have died, But close I hide In a plumy seed that the wind has sown. Patient I wait through the long winter hours ; You will see me again I shall laugh at you then, Out of the eyes of a hundred flowers. "PLAY WITH ME" HE Kitten came this morning, and said, With a touch of her paw and a turn of her head, " Play, play with me ! " And Skye, the terrier, caught my hand, And tried to make me understand, " Play, play with me ! " And Nelly nipped my shoulder quite hard, And then she went prancing around the yard, " Play, play with me ! " I played with them all ! Now, would n't you play, 85 86 In Sunshine Land If a little child, like me, should say, " Play, play with me ?" JOHNNY'S SISTER APOLOGIZES OOR Johnny ! he sat up so straight by the wall, When uncle Will's friend was making a call ; He never meant to be saucy at all! When the gentleman smiled and came over his way, I suppose Johnny thought he was going to say, " Now, tell me whose little boy are you ? " So he tried to say something pleasant, too But dear me ! I did n't know what I should do, When he looked up and said, " Whose papa are you ? " I almost wished I was deaf and blind, But the gentleman (he was so very kind) He kept on smiling and did n't mind. In Sunshine Land FRANKNESS AKE a doughnut, my dear, take two." The visitor looked with a wist- ful eye But not at the doughnuts ah, no ! Her wishes were centred on pie : " I can get doughnuts at home," The little girl said with a sigh. A CHILD'S LOGIC OWO eyes of a purple pansy's hue, Two eyes met mine in calm sur- vey. "My child, I like your eyes so true." Then did the little maiden say, " If you like my eyes, you like me too ! " 88 In Sunshine Land "GRANDMOTHER'S GATHERING BONE- SET" RANDMOTHER 's gathering boneset to-day ; In the garret she '11 dry and hang it away. Next winter I'll "need" some boneset tea I wish she would n't think always of me ! In Sunshine Land 89 A BEAR STORY T story-telling time last night, When all the rest had done, Our " Little Sister " (four years old) Began, brimful with fun : " There was a teeny little girl, Not very good, I 'm 'fraid ; She would n't learn to read or sew, But played, and played, and played ! " She 'd run away, oh yes, she would, She ran so far away -A big black bear came out of the woods And ate her up, one day ! " But here the story-teller paused, Round-eyed, and out of breath, - 9 In Sunshine Land " And then this teeny little girl Ran home, 'most scared to death !" " Oh, ho ! ha, ha ! " the children laughed (And so, I think, would you) ; But " Little Sister " gravely said : " You need n't laugh, it 's true." " But when the bear had eat her up, You know it couldn't be," " He did n't eat her every bit, " He left her feet, you see ! " LITTLE SISTER REHEARSES WISH that the poet who wrote these verses Could see Little Sister when she rehearses ; For she is a poem, all in herself, The gay little, grave little, whimsical elf! She begins with a birdlike start and flutter With just the same air does the sparrow utter In Sunshine Land 91 His own small song in the lilac close by The same arch way with his head and his eye ! The voice of the bird is no sweeter no clearer ; He stops in the midst of his song to hear her, And the morning sunbeam and morning air Together come in to kiss her soft hair. Some of the words are too hard 't is no matter : Just as a brook with musical chatter Glides over its pebbles and never trips, So over the hard words smoothly she slips. Some of the thoughts no doubt are beyond her; But of gowns with long trains Little Sister is fonder Than of frock and pinafore worn every day ; And " grown-up thoughts " please in just the same way. 9 2 In Sunshine Land As her voice ripples on, as her bright eye glances, 'T is plain to be seen Little Sister has fan- cies No more to be caught than the morning air And morning sunbeam that kiss her soft hair. THE LITTLE VERSE AT THE FOOT OF THE PAGE 'M the toddling child at the foot of the page, But I sing like a wren, or a lin- net ; All smile when they see me come on the stage, I sing, and am gone in a minute ! In Sunshine Land 93 OUR FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS IN SPECTACLES LD Tabby, watching at a mouse- hole, Looks wondrous shrewd and wondrous wise, And well may mice be shy and cautious, For she has glasses on her eyes. And Rover leaps and frolics wildly, When his young master hunting goes, But waits to have his spec's adjusted Upon his black and honest nose. And Dobbin now turned out to pasture Poor Dobbin's sight is growing dim Stands by the gate and whinnies loudly Till some one brings his spec's to him. And mother Crumple, so near-sighted, Could never find her frisky calf Without those precious gold-rimmed glasses That make her pretty Daisy laugh. 94 In Sunshine Land THE MOLE [ELL all your wise men who pro- nounce me blind, Mine eyes are good, though small and hard to find, Yet, even so, serve better than their own, Else they had looked, nor said that I have none ! In Sunshine Land 95 WHAT THE LAMBS SAY AID the little shepherdess, " Many wise folk cannot guess What the lambs say when they cry, Or what the old sheep do reply." Can you tell ? (I asked). " Oh yes ! " Said the little shepherdess : " All the young lambs say, ' Ma-a ! ma-a ! ' All the old sheep answer, ' Ba-a ! ' " If a stranger comes this way, Or the young ones, in their play, 96 In Sunshine Land From their tender mothers stray, And go searching all around Every stone and bushy mound, Then the young lambs cry, ' Ma-a ! ma-a ! ' But their mothers' answer, ' Ba-a ! ' - Just to shame them when they cry, Silly lambs to be so shy ! " STRAY CHILDREN [ISSING my darling, I called through the hall, " Where are you ? Where are you, my little stray lamb ? " A moment's pause and she an- swered my call In a slow, soft voice so plaintive and small, " Find me, I do not know where I am." So vast is that circle we call the sky, Though God, we trust, holds the world in His palm, Well may each little, lonely child cry, And so, though grown older, may you and I, " Father, I do not know where I am ! " In Sunshine Land 97 AGNES LL round the yard the morning through, Her mother watched her at her play; The blooming lilacs dropped sweet dew, With here and there a broken spray Of purple or of white, a spray, Pulled down, a flower-soft face to meet ; The grasses bend, then upward sway, And keep no print of Agnes' feet. The school-bell calls, her way she takes ; The gleaming rails are crossed in haste, The train's long smoke a picture makes, A tumbling cherub, roguish-faced. 9 8 In Sunshine Land The afternoon is scarcely done ; With faces white, and dread to see, They bring her home, but never one With half so white a face, as she ! The heavy wheels roll far away, The smoke paints pictures on the skies ; In her small chamber, done with play, A blossom shed, the school-child lies, With soft round cheek and smoothed lock Against the pillows' drifted snow, Like some young creature of the flock That falls asleep where daisies blow. With straining eyes and tightened brows, And heart that almost stops its beat, Her mother, round and round the house, Still looks for prints of Agnes' feet. If she could find them she would weep, And give them tears and kisses sweet But ah ! the grass blades would not keep The little prints of Agnes' feet ! In Sunshine Land 101 LA MUSIQUE (On an old French Engraving.} ITTLE peers of olden France, Jaunty cap with plume a dance, Snow-white ruff, and careless curl, Ear-drop, necklace, all of pearl ! Little lady, little knight, Sing unto your hearts' delight, Warbling clear, or humming low. But it is not ours to know What the words or what the notes Tuned by your soft treble throats ; Not a tone our ears can win From the pleading violin, In Sunshine Land And your fingers, as they poise On the keys, awake no noise. Dainty birds of long ago, Only this we surely know : Other children change and change, Till their childish selves grow strange, And their mothers softly sigh, Seeing how the morn slips by ; You three courtiers small and gay You will be the same alway ! Never Time with his rough share Comes to plough your foreheads fair ; From all touch of changeful days You were caught with your sweet lays ; By the painter's loving skill We may see and love you still ; Blithe you were and keep you so, Dainty birds of long ago ! In Sunshine Land 103 CRIES OF THE NEWSBOY (NEWS ! SUN ! OR WORLD !) i [RUEL the roar of the city ways, Where life on a myriad errands whirled ; But suddenly up from the jarring maze, Like a rocket thrown high, went a ringing cry : " New-Sunny-World ! New-Sunny-World ! " There was n't a glimpse of the sun anywhere ; Up through the streets the sea fog curled ; Grim was the light and leaden the air ; The world looked old, yet that voice rang bold: " New-Sunny-World ! New-Sunny-World ! " i4 In Sunshine Land The brisk little crier I could not see, But I treasured the rocket cry he hurled, And thought, "This is wonderful news to me ! Heigh-ho ! is it true ? Is it so to you ? A New Sunny World ? " ii Up from the city's murky streets forlorn, There comes a ringing cry at early morn, That lets my fancy pass these stony bounds, By hinting of sweet country sights and sounds. Down there a little Mercury of the press, Bright-eyed, shock-haired, and ragged, as I guess, Cries the damp roll of " Tribunes " 'neath his arm ; The listening walls give back the shrill alarm. 'T is Morning piapers ! Morning piapers ! still Like some quaint bird with but one call or trill ; In Sunshine Land 105 'T is Morning piapers ! Morning piapers ! aye, There is an old-world accent in the cry. Unknown this cuckoo fledgeling of the street Beguiles my lingering sleep with service sweet Of morning pipers, piping blithe and clear From some imagined sward or thicket near. In Sunshine Land LOST ON THE ELEVATED ROAD! BOVE the stony thoroughfare, So loud with wheels and clatter- ing feet, There is a highway in the air, And iron wheels shake the steely street. Beside this road are wires that bear Impatient, silent Thought along ; O'erlooking both, are windows where Flowers try to bloom, and children throng. The oddest sight two little shoes, Hung on the wires, I saw to-day ; In Sunshine Land 107 It seemed to me they might be clues To trace some precious runaway ! AN ITALIAN BOY SINGING IN THE STREET FT in this quiet street is heard The sweet voice of a migrant bird That strays from distant lands. He sings and waits, and waits and sings A coin upon the pavement rings ; The stranger understands ! A kiss upon the finger tips, A smile upon the crimson lips, A smile the eyes repeat ! He sings and waits, and waits and sings ; It is the smile the white coin brings, And not the song, though sweet ! io8 In Sunshine Land IN "CHANGE" THE YOUNG CASHIER HE sat at her desk the long day through ; 'T was Spring, and she came from the country I knew, By the branch of mock-orange that graceful and low Fell over the desk, like a wreath of snow. She gave me my change and, smiling, a spray Of the branch she broke, at peep of day, From the bush that blooms by her mother's door Far from the city's rude uproar. In Sunshine Land 109 THE VASE THAT RAN AWAY HAT art is long and time is fleeting,'" By sad experience all must own ; Reversed, the proverb bears repeating As in poor Harry's sketch is shown. His tedious task at last completing, The lines, all " wrong," the truth display, That time is long, and art is fleeting When antique vases run away ! GIVE THE BOYS A HOLIDAY ESIDE the Hellespont a banished sage Felt life fast slipping from his mortal frame ; Around him stood the friends of his calm age, Wept softly, called him by his honored name. 110 In Suns/iine Land " What shall we do, O master wise and dear, When thou art gone among the silent ways, What shall we do to keep thy memory clear, What rites decree, what bronze or marble raise ? " His paling lips a faint smile overspread, His faded eyes shot forth a moment's ray : " Do naught for me, O friends," the dying said, " Do naught but give the boys a holiday." Ah forecast shrewd ! Take heed, whoe'er thou be, Thou to the heart of child and youth find way : The warrior, statesman, prince, forgot may be, Not those who " give the boys a holiday." In Sunshine Land " FLY ! " F young Demetrius the tale is told, A prince of friends, a monarch's son of old ; He, when his father's jealous ha- tred girt A comrade's life, did save that life from hurt. For what he dared not in a whisper sound, With careless spear he wrote upon the ground, " Fly, Mithridates, fly ! " No word was said, But in the night-time Mithridates fled. Ah, would that trustful youth a friend pos- sessed To warn of snares that treacherously infest ; And would that youth might read and well apply The legend terse, " Fly, Mithridates, fly ! " Where Fancy Leads A FIELD OF RYE N the middle ot the rye Nothing can be seen but sky Or, perhaps, the village spire On the hill, but scarcely higher Than these bearded heads ot grain. Going through this narrow lane, All at once they smite your cheek, In a sudden angry freak; Then, retiring, interlace, Throwing shadows on your face ! When the west wind takes its way Through the rustling field, we play We are swimming out to sea, And the birds that fly may be Sea-gulls darting through the spray ! Or, at other times, we play "5 1 1 6 /TZ 6W nsh ine Land That the stalks of rye are trees Whispering, whispering in the breeze Not for people like ourselves, But for cunning little elves, That through all the daytime sleep, Till the moon begins to peep ; Then they rise, and, joining hands, Dance about in merry bands. In Sunshine Land 117 TODLIN ISLAND N this silver inlet's breast, Lies an isle in glamour drest. All its trees are small but old, Threescore winters each has told, And the patriarch of the clan Is no taller than a man ! Yet these little weazened trees That are dropping on their knees Down before the bluff north breeze Are gigantic yew and oak To the island's pigmy folk. They are full of craft and guile, Who inhabit Todlin Isle. Oftentimes, with quaint farewells, 118 In Sunshine Land They launch out in scallop-shells, On some mighty voyage bound To the mainland meadow-ground. If you 're like to cross their track, Straight about they veer and tack, Sheltering in those tangled coves Where they hide their treasure-troves : If you land, they quickly flit Into secret cave and pit ; So that never yet, I ween, Any of their ilk was seen. But their bond-slaves you may pass, Weaving through the warm, dry grass (Limber " hopper," coal-black grig, Lady-bug, and emmet trig) ; And their beds you come across, Strewn with tressed green-gray moss ; Pillows made of silk-weed floss Coverlids of rose-leaf lawn Sweet-fern curtains, partly drawn. You may find their banquet-rooms Hung with white azalea blooms, And the dainties left in haste, If you wish, yourself may taste ; Goblets filled with dewberry wine, Purple beach-plums, sleek and fine, In Sunshine Land 119 Honey that was had in fee From the solitary bee, Smilax salads cool and crisp ; You may taste but no word lisp, Else for seven years and a day You on Todlin Isle must stay. For of fern-seed you will eat, Be unseen, from head to feet, Be unheard, howe'er you moan, Till your captive years are flown, Drag about a gossamer chain, Serve the King of Elves, in pain. Ah, my child, be wise and dumb, When to Todlin Isle you come ! A SKY-VOYAGE H, would you go a-sailing Upon the light, light breeze ? Above the town and country, Above the tallest trees ? " " I 'd like to go a-sailing Upon the light, light breeze, '20 In Sunshine Land But we 've no ship nor pilot To take us on the seas." " The new moon's boat we '11 borrow Made all of mother-o'-pearl, A rosy cloud from sunset For canvas we '11 unfurl. " Then all the tearful dew-elves, Returning to the sky With countless diamond pitchers The sun has emptied dry, " And all the lovely flower-folk Whose race is run below, Will join us in our voyage As on and on we go ! " No trouble shall o'ertake us, No dreary sight nor sound ; The bobolink may greet us, Singing a morning round. " A star shall be our pilot Across the sea of light, And some enchanted island Shall be our port at night." In Sunshine Land A WILD HORSE OF THE SEA RING me a steed with a tossing mane, Trip him with lasso on Neptune's green plain ; Bring him, so cumbered and chaf- ing, to me ; I will break him and ride him out over the sea ! His headstall shall be of clear amber and pearl, With plumes and with ribbons of foam on the curl ; Let the swimmer beware of his lifted hoof, And the skiff of the fisher keep far aloof ! Yet the mermaids shall lead him with gar- lands of dulse, And bait him with cresses and blossoming pulse ; And the little sea-children may play their mad pranks, All astride of his neck and his glistening flanks ! 122 In Sunshine Lar.d A LABRADOR TEAM PON the world's rough icy edge See Hans is seated in his sledge, In furs all muffled to his eyes ! He takes his whip in hand, and cries, " Nannook ! Nannook ! " and with a bound The frisky dog-team clears the ground. Proud is the leader, and the rest, Each, in his own place, does his best ; Wolf, Lightfoot, Terror, Search, or Speed, Perhaps, to-morrow morn, will lead ! For here in dog-land 'tis the rule (Just as for children in their school), If any proves a rogue or dunce, Down to the foot he goes at once ! And this is why when young Hans shook In Sunshine Land 123 His whip, and cried, " Nannook ! Nannook ! " Poor Mischief, who in pride had led Till yesterday, now hung his head ; And, bowed with shame, brought up the rear, In his brown eye a big bright tear ! " Pull well, pull strong ! " cries Hans, " so, so ! To-morrow to the head you '11 go Nannook ! and you shall be, once more, The proudest dog in Labrador ! " ROBIN HOOD AND HIS VETERANS DREAMED I was in Sherwood Amid a wild, green glen ; And there I met true Robifi And all his merry men. True Robin waved me welcome, And each man said, " Good-den." They sat me down at table Between bold Little John And stalwart, brave Will Scarlet : And every mother's son A leathern belt and doublet Of Lincoln green had on. 124 In Sunshine Land The supper now was ended ; Quoth I, " My heart 't would cheer, If I could see ye wrestle, Or flush the fallow-deer." Quoth Robin, sighing deeply, " Oh, .that was yester year ! " But loud laughed Tuck, the Friar, (The table shook thereat) ; " Fair sir, in 1890 We 've done with all of that ; Dear Will hath rheumatism, And Little John 's ower fat ! " AN INTERVIEW WITH CAPTAIN KIDD SCENE : THE PIRATE'S ISLAND YSTERY, mystery, is the rune Chanted here both night and noon, While around this jutting steep The white breakers pry and peep ; And, defeated in their quest, Sink upon the ocean's breast. /// Sunshine Land 125 Here some gale is ever shrill, Though the four winds all are still ; And a wilder note is heard From the sea's storm-weathered bird, While the sandlark, frail and slight, Nods and totters out of sight. Yonder flint-embossed boulder, Poised as on a Titan's shoulder, Seemeth oftentimes to stir Above the sleeping thunderer. Mystery, mystery, is the rune Chanted here both night and noon. Had I craft of eldern days, That could lurking spirits raise, Forth should leap, with lusty cheers, Some king-ghost of buccaneers. Not more jet his waving plumes Than the unshorn clustered glooms, Penthouse thatch to eyes whose sheen Matched his steely falchion keen. Nor his bearded lip should lack Recent kiss of warming sack. Knew I spells of conjurers old 126 In Sunshine Land The ghost of Captain Kidd rises. " Hold ! At thy hardy wish I come, Let my deep voice strike thee dumb ! I do teach the wind to howl, I do give the fisher fowl And the tottering sandlark's brood All their throated drearyhood ! I, the genius of this bourn, Hence all gainful searchers spurn. But because thou carest not (Thriftless bard ! ) for treasure grot, Nor for gold in massy bars, While Heaven's vault is lined with stars, And for a new song would part With the hoard of Inca swart Know thou, 'neath yon poised rock In a chest with sovran lock, In Sunshine Land I2 7 There the precious spoils lie hid, Of the world-renowned Kidd ! Angels blonde and dusk doubloons, Moor-wrought fancies, Indian moons, Flagons from the rich Levant, Brand and dagger puissant, Wassail bowl and drinking-horn, Gallant prize from tourney borne, Gemmed idol, priestly charm, And jeweled band from beauty's arm. These, and more, of nameless worth, Lie in sort of darkling mirth, While from bland Floridian shore Far as frosty Labrador, Still crook-shouldered delvers moil, Getting clods for all their toil ! By the soul of goodly wine I have store, by wood and brine Safe from pillage as the prize Iris guards in clearing skies. At those delvers though I gibe, Yet I more do love their tribe Than the trenchant smiling sage Who from Story's sparkling page Would erase me and my coffers. Be it thine to silence scoffers, 128 In Sunshine Land Thine to keep my fame from rust, And the edge of youthful gust From the dulling plague of doubt. That the skeptic thou mayst rout, Lo ! this guardian monolith Thus I '11 heave aside, and sith Thou art greedless, thou shalt see What this cavern hoards for me. Lock, slide back, and uplift, lid, Show the pelf of Captain Kidd. " Seest thou, and markest well ? Straightway I reverse the spell : Lid, fall to, and, lock, be true, Spring no more for mortal's In Sunshine Land FIRESIDE MAGIC HO 's in the chimney-seat ? The firelight shadows are dan- cing- Dancing, retreating, advan- cing ; We cannot see very well, To tell Who's in the chimney-seat ! Who 's in the chimney-seat ? It may be some crafty enchanter The witches that chased Tarn o ! Shanter In Sunshine Land Robin Goodfellow Queen Lab - Or Mab- There in the chimney-seat. Who 's in the chimney-seat ? It may be just a small maiden, Deep-eyed, with brain legend-laden. Dreaming of olden nights And sprites There in the chimney -seat. In Sunshine Land THE KING WHO TRAVELED AT HOME ANCY a monarch old and wise, With a sober mouth, and merry eyes, And snowy beard that swept his breast ; In robes not of purple but russet dressed. Fancy him riding through the land, Not in a coach, and four-in-hand ; But in the manner which I shall show This wise old monarch was pleased to go. " T is an age," he cried, " that travels so fast, Many wonderful things unseen are passed ; In Sunshine Land I would see what the rest of the world has missed, I will travel henceforward as slow as I list." So a tortoise he called, of the ancient time, Whose motions were steady, whose patience sublime ; Broad was his back, and with room to spare For the monarch's footstool and easy chair. So mounted, he gathered the reins in his hand, And rode as he liked through the spacious land, While his courtiers beside him on either hand Trudged lazily on, indulgent and bland. Sometimes by field and sometimes through town, Rode this merry monarch of old renown ; Sometimes but a furlong he traveled all day, And beneath a green tree for the night would stay. In Sunshine Land 133 He said there were kingdoms as great as his own,. But their laws and their manners were yet unknown ; And these, with patience, he hoped to learn, And, so much the wiser, homeward return. So he studied the ways of the flocks and herds, And sharpened his ears to hear the birds, The King of .the crows, and the Commodore gray Whom the tribes of the wild geese all obey. In the Wars of the Ants he knew who won ; He watched how the silk of the Spider was spun ; And the Queen of the wild bees came to him, With a honey-tale, from the woodland dim. Sometimes to a country village he came ; And then he would call some child by name, And invite him to go for a pleasure-ride, While he told him such tales that he laughed till he cried ! 1 34 In Sunshine Land And the child as he sat by the old king's knee, On the tortoise' back, clapped his hands with glee At the wonderful sights, unseen before, That now appeared at his own cottage door. Would that we too might travel so, But the fashion went out a long time ago : The king is gone, and the mosses creep Over the tortoise fast asleep ! HOW THE PINES WENT TO SEA HE mighty pines, they march in file Adown the mountain, in the wind, By rocky stairs for many a mile, Their dark locks streaming out behind. They stay not till they reach the coast, And there a crafty race they meet ; " Oh whither bound, ye lordly host ? Why have ye left your lofty seat ? " In Sunshine Land 135 " The sea, the sea ! He calls us still, His footsteps shake the mountain's side ; And we have come, befall what will, To throw us on his bosom wide." " Not thus, in shaggy disarray, Ye trooping pines should throng the sea ; But hark to us, and with us stay, And for his service fashioned be." They pluck them by their tresses dark, They cleave them to the golden core ; They shape the keel, they rig the bark, They fling the sail, and launch from shore. The mighty pines, with iron bound, Now swiftly skim the heaving deep ; But though they float the world around, A legend of their home they keep. Hence, often as they skirt that height On which their sylvan years were passed, A breezy murmur runs so light From prow to stem, from deck to mast. In Sunshine Land The rudder hums, the bowsprit croons, The seaman hears in fond amaze ; He dreams of shade in summer noons, Of cool, leaf-matted, fragrant ways. THE MIGRATION OF THE SQUIRRELS S the squirrels swept down from the north, A questioner stood in their way : " Why thus go ye forth ? Is it peace, is it war, that .takes ye so far ? " " Oh, that is our secret," said they, " And we will not tell ! " As the squirrels swept on from the north, Said one to the other, " Disclose Why 't is we go forth." Then answered the other, " Heav'n's secret, my brother ! Not one of our company knows, Heav'n keeps it so well ! " /;/ Sunshine Land 137 INVITATION TO ECHO WO of us among the daisies In the meadow bright and still, You, alone among the mazes Of the dark trees on the hill ; O sweet Echo, O fleet Echo, Can we not o'ertake you, following with a will ? [A/i, Will!] 'T is my name but much I wonder That you in your hiding-place, On the shady hill or under, Things you never knew can trace ! Declare, mocker, O rare mocker, What my sister's name is, else you 're in dis- grace ! ['Tts Grace /] What sweet things do you resemble, Morning dewdrops, starry gleams, In Sunshine Land Flowers that in the light wind tremble, Reckonings of the rippled streams ? O dear playmate, Come near, playmate ; Are these fancies true, or naught at all but dreams ? \Bitt dreams /] Then come down and let us see you ; If you cannot come to stay, Ask the stern old hill to free you Just for half a holiday. O glad Echo, O sad Echo, To escape your prison can you find no way ? [No way /] In Sunshine Land 14* A SHOOTING STAR ROM Ariadne's crown Something came flashing down, Over the distant town, Over the river and sleeping farms ; The planets above seemed to wink As they watched the traveler sink ; And motherly Earth, I think, May have folded a little lost star in her arms. I 4 2 In Sunshine Land THE YOUNG GEOLOGIST OMES one with searching look, To read the great Stone Book : With youthful brows perplexed, He scans the rugged text. The knuckled rock he taps, And ancient thunders lapse, With deep imagined thud, On beaches of the flood. Old summers bud and bloom, And sink into a tomb : He sees them bloom again Upon the hearths of men. /;/ Sunshine Land 143 Life went with striding pace, He hunts upon its trace : A track a rib a tooth - What birds and beasts uncouth ! Youth bends with baffled look, Above the great Stone Book ; The title-page is dim, The Finis not for him. THE FIELD OF THOUGHT HE wind of Thought shall seed thy field With all that North or South- lands yield, And sun and dew of Thought shall bring Thy field to happy harvesting. And Thought's keen sickle, strange to sloth, Shall cleanly reap the lusty swath, And Thought's deep garner shall contain Thy winter keep of golden grain ; So be, thou deem thy field divine, Thy glebe shall laugh, thy toil shall shine. 144 In Sunshine Land THWACK-THE-HOUSE-IN-THE-RIBS N windless winter nights, When cloudless are the heights, And every planet sheen Drives lances long and keen ; When snow-fleece hangs in the eaves, And dead are fireside lights, And not a track is seen Save mincing, four-foot thieves' That lead to granary cribs Then hark ! hark ! hark ! In the deep of the night and the dark, Comes Thwack-the-House-in-the-Ribs ! Half wakes the sleeper, then Is turned to sleep again, In Sunshine Land 145 And dreams outside there stands A troll with doubled hands, Who jars from time to time The dwellings of weak men ; A troll from northmost lands, From gloomy Jotunheim, Not blustering like his sibs. 'T is only the frost in the beams ! But the name that I heard in my dreams Was Thwack-the-House-in-the-Ribs ! WHO FILLS THE STOCKINGS? OOK where the stockings hang in a row ! Least and greatest, how plump they show ! Let lispers and toddlers still be- lieve Lapland Kriss on a Christmas eve Lowers himself through the chimney black, Lades each sock from his well-filled sack, Leaps to his sleigh and his reindeer go Lightly over the frozen snow ! 146 In Sunshine Land " Likely story ! " you cry, and you Laugh with your lips and your eyes of blue. Look sharply now and now look again Lesson in primer was never more plain : Long stocking, short stocking, all show the same Large letter f? , which stands for a name ! Love left his monogram written here Love fills the stockings, O children dear ! YE MERRIE CHRISTMAS FEAST OW Grace is said, no longer wait With eyes downcast on emptie plate, But see ye Turkey, fat, supine, On which, good People, ye shall dine! There lieth he, a noble bulk, That soone shall be a shattered hulk. Carve, Goodman, carve, with speed and skill Ye Guests, spare not, but ete your fill ! In Sunshine Land 147 But who is this, that this way comes ? Sir Bagge-Pudding, with wealth of plums : Ha! smell ye not ye savorie fumes ? Ye Orient on this table blooms. Ye Tropics here their Dainties spill Ye Guests, spare not, but ete your fill ! And now come Junkets, Jumbles, Tartes, And, after these, ye mince-meat Pie, And monumental Cake, piled high, Made by ye cunning Queene of Hearts, Who all surveys with beaming eye. Quoth she : " Pray tarrie, tarrie still ; Ye Guests, spare not, but ete your fill ! " Ye Feast is done, ye Day is gone, And Sleepe his curtains dark has drawn ; Therethrough peepes many a fearful thing : Ye Turkey and ye Bagge-Pudding On legges goe strutting up and downe ; Ye Mince-Pie weares a deadly frowne ; Ye Cakes and Jumbles lead a dance ; Ye Tartes and Junkets madly prance. Because, O Guests, ye ate your fill, These sprites have now their evil will ! 148 In Sunshine Land THE BURIED CHIMES OF CHRISTMAS LEGEND I 've read of a buried town, Under the wild hills folded down, Hidden alike the cot and hall, Hidden the spire of the minster tall; Yet, oft as the morn of Christmas breaks, From the sunken belfry music wakes. Through the snowy dells It ebbs or swells This voice of the buried Christmas bells. Is the legend true ? Oh, question not, But seek its proof in the human lot : In Suits/line Land 149 Deep in the heart as each heart doth know Is a buried village, called Long Ago ; And never the Christmastide rolls round But chimes peal forth from underground. Ye chimes so dear, Ring clear, bring near The Christmas joys of each vanished year ! Now there 's a stir of life below In this secret village of Long Ago : Here laughter of children, and hastening feet, There silver locks in the ingle-seat, And youth and maiden, and wondrous show ! Ourselves as we moved in the Long Ago. Chime, sweetly chime, Ye bells of the prime ; Bring us the buried Christmas time ! In Sunshine Land THE NEW YEAR'S CRADLE HE New Year's cradle is the cres- cent moon, His cradle-song an old vesperean rune, By shrill winds sung in Heaven; as he rocks The little stars shake out their sparkling locks, And smiling down the softened air, They seem to say, " all 's well and fair ! " In Sunshine Land HONEYTROPE HE bee from the hive, and the lone wild bee, And the bee from the cave of the blasted tree, And the leaf-winged moth, and the butterfly Whose wings are flecked with the blue of the sky, I met all going one way together : " What taketh you forth in the bright spring weather, And what will you earn for your morning's labor?" " Honeytrope, neighbor, Honey trope there on the slope ! " In Sunshine Land I laughed them to scorn, for I thought that I knew No flower with this name on earth ever grew ; But they all hurried on in spite of me, The butterfly, moth, and notable bee ; And I followed, and came to a hillside sunny. 'T was swimming in purple, 't was dripping with honey ; And, humming, they fell to their morning labor, - " Honeytrope, neighbor, Honeytrope otherwise, Hope ! " UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. g SEP 2 SEP 1 3 1967 Form L9-100m-9.'52(A3105)444 4 PLEAiE OO NOT REMOVE THIS BOOK CARDU1S ii. N University Research Library