THE "OLD, OLD SONG". From THE WATER BABIES CHARLES KINGSLEY 'HEN all the world is young, lad, WH And all the trees are green; And every goose a swan, lad, And lass a queen, every Then hey for boot and horse, lad, And round the world away; Young blood must have its course, lad, And every dog his day. When all the world is old, lad, And all the trees are brown; And all the sport is stale, lad, And all the wheels run down, Creep home, and take your place there, The spent and maimed among: God grant you find one face there You loved when all was young. THE FAIRIES A Child's Song WILLIAM ALLINGHAM P the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We dare not go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather! Down along the rocky shore Some in the reeds Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake. High on the hill-tops The old King sits; He is now so old and gray With a bridge of white mist From Slieveleague to Rosses; On cold starry nights, To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights. They stole little Bridget Between the night and morrow, They thought that she was fast asleep, By the craggy hill-side, As dig one up in spite, Up the airy mountain, ROBIN REDBREAST WILLIAM ALLINGHAM WOOD-BY, good-by to summer! The garden smiling faintly, Cool breezes in the sun; Our thrushes now are silent, O Robin dear! Robin sings so sweetly In the falling of the year. Bright yellow, red, and orange, The leaves come down in hosts; The trees are Indian princes, But soon they'll turn to ghosts; The leathery pears and apples Hang russet on the bough; It's autumn, autumn, autumn late, 'Twill soon be winter now. |