FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   >>  
g of the sailors on board! And see on the steps of my palace, the kings Coming and going with presents and things! Now I have done with it, down 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] 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. [Illustration] 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 backs of books. Armies march by tower and spire Of cities blazing, in the fire; Till as I gaze with staring eyes, The armies fade, 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! [Illustration] 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 g
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   >>  



Top keywords:

Illustration

 

armies

 

marching

 

phantom

 
falling
 

Around

 

palace

 

Faintly

 

glitter

 

sailing


street

 

garden

 

slowly

 
prowled
 
return
 
ARMIES
 

backward

 

burning

 

returns

 

lustre


crumbles

 

Blinking

 

embers

 
valley
 

furnaces

 

Armies

 
flickers
 
warmly
 

staring

 
LITTLE

cities
 

blazing

 
paints
 

roaring

 
remember
 

sailors

 

evening

 
parents
 

moment

 

things


Coming

 
scattered
 

presents

 

solitudes

 
starry
 

firelit

 

forest

 

follow

 
hunter
 

Indian