Showing posts with label A Child's Garden of Verses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Child's Garden of Verses. Show all posts

Monday, January 31, 2011

PUBLIC DOMAIN MONDAY: A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES

by Robert Lewis Stevenson, Illustrations by Jessie Wilcox Smith
published 1905

"To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you, and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations - such is a pleasure beyond compare."  ~Kenko Yoshida
SOME EXCERPTS to intice you to go find a book by Robert Lewis Stevenson...


BED IN SUMMER

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

A THOUGHT
It is very nice to think
The world is full of meat and drink,
With little children saying grace

In every Christian kind of place.






AT THE SEA-SIDE

When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup.
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.




WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN


A child should always say what's true
And speak when he is spoken to,
And behave mannerly at table;
At least as far as he is able.



RAIN

The rain is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.








FOREIGN LANDS

Up into the cherry tree
Who should climb but little me?
I held the trunk with both my hands
And looked abroad on foreign lands.

I saw the next door garden lie,
Adorned with flowers, before my eye,
And many pleasant places more
That I had never seen before.

I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sky's blue looking-glass;
The dusty roads go up and down
With people tramping in to town.

If I could find a higher tree
Farther and farther I should see,
To where the grown-up river slips
Into the sea among the ships,

To where the roads on either hand
Lead onward into fairy land,
Where all the children dine at five,
And all the playthings come alive.



AUNTIE'S SKIRTS

Whenever Auntie moves around,
Her dresses make a curious sound,
They trail behind her up the floor,
And trundle after through the door.


THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE

When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay
To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.



TO ANY READER

As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear; he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.

Friday, November 5, 2010

JESSIE WILCOX SMITH, MAGAZINES AND CHILDREN'S BOOKS

By chance, at the age of 20, Jessie Wilcox Smith found out she had a talent for drawing.  In 1889 she started her career as an illustrator in the advertising department of The Ladies Home Journal. She had been a kindergarten teacher prior to that, and it's apparent from her artwork that she idealized mothers and children, even though she never married or had children of her own.

For many, Jessie Wilcox Smith's artwork inspires a sense of nostalgia.  This is possibly because her illustrations appeared on the covers of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING Magazine every month from 1917-1933!  I especially love the covers that feature children reading and being read to...


As far as children's books, she illustrated over 40, including A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES; LITTLE WOMEN; HEIDI; THE JESSE WILCOX SMITH MOTHER GOOSE;'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS; and two of George MacDonald's fantasies: AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND and THE PRINCESS AND THE GOBLIN.  She is probably best known for Charles Kingsley's WATER BABIES.




Click here to see her illustrations of the various fairy tales from this book by Penrhyn W. Coussens.




Click on these Links for more information:
SEE MORE JESSE WILCOX SMITH GOOD HOUSEKEEPING COVERS
SEE JESSIE WILCOX SMITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM OTHER MAGAZINES
ABOUT HER ART STYLE
BIOGRAPHY  

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

THE POETRY OF ROBERT LEWIS STEVENSON


I'll never forget the up-and-down lilt of my mother's voice as she recited "The Swing", and how it matched the rhythm and sway of my body gliding through the air on the swing set at our small neighborhood playground.  With each push from her and pump of my legs, I'd go higher and higher, trying to get "up in the air and over the wall", just like the child in the poem by Robert Louis Stevenson.  My own children heard this rhyme from me, as I pushed them on our backyard swing set, or read to them from A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES -- the collection of poems that Stevenson originally wrote for his own children.


THE SWING

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--

Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!


TIME TO RISE

A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon my window sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
"Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head!"

AT THE SEASIDE

When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup.
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.




My children are now grown and the swing sets are empty, but someday my grandchildren will fill the seats and I'll recite THE SWING again... 

Black and White Swing Painting by Vashinsky


 

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