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Now We Are Six - A. A. Milne [10]

By Root 85 0
of my kite,

It would blow with the wind

For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,

Wherever it blew,

I should know that the wind

Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them

Where the wind goes…

But where the wind comes from

Nobody knows.

Forgotten


Lords of the Nursery

Wait in a row,

Five on the high wall,

And four on the low;

Big Kings and Little Kings,

Brown Bears and Black,

All of them waiting

Till John comes back.

Some think that John boy

Is lost in the wood,

Some say he couldn’t be,

Some say he could.

Some think that John boy

Hides on the hill;

Some say he won’t come back,

Some say he will.

High was the sun, when

John went away…

Here they’ve been waiting

All through the day;

Big Bears and Little Bears,

White Kings and Black,

All of them waiting

Till John comes back.

Lords of the Nursery

Looked down the hill,

Some saw the sheep-fold,

Some saw the mill;

Some saw the roofs

Of the little grey town…

And their shadows grew long

As the sun slipt down.

Gold between the poplars

An old moon shows;

Silver up the star-way

The full moon rose;

Silver down the star-way

The old moon crept…

And, one by another,

The grey fields slept.

Lords of the Nursery

Their still watch keep…

They hear from the sheep-fold

The rustle of sheep.

A young bird twitters

And hides its head;

A little wind suddenly

Breathes, and is dead.

Slowly and slowly

Dawns the new day…

What’s become of John boy?

No one can say.

Some think that John boy

Is lost on the hill;

Some say he won’t come back,

Some say he will.

What’s become of John boy?

Nothing at all,

He played with his skipping rope,

He played with his ball.

He ran after butterflies,

Blue ones and red;

He did a hundred happy things—

And then went to bed.

In the Dark


I’ve had my supper,

And had my supper,

And HAD my supper and all;

I’ve heard the story

Of Cinderella,

And how she went to the ball;

I’ve cleaned my teeth,

And I’ve said my prayers,

And I’ve cleaned and said them right;

And they’ve all of them been

And kissed me lots,

They’ve all of them said “Good-night.”

So—here I am in the dark alone,

There’s nobody here to see;

I think to myself,

I play to myself,

And nobody knows what I say to myself;

Here I am in the dark alone,

What is it going to be?

I can think whatever I like to think,

I can play whatever I like to play,

I can laugh whatever I like to laugh,

There’s nobody here but me.

I’m talking to a rabbit…

I’m talking to the sun…

I think I am a hundred—

I’m one.

I’m lying in a forest…

I’m lying in a cave…

I’m talking to a Dragon…

I’m BRAVE.

I’m lying on my left side…

I’m lying on my right…

I’ll play a lot tomorrow…

I’ll think a lot tomorrow…

I’ll laugh…

a lot…

tomorrow…

(Heigh-ho!)

Good-night.

The End


When I was One,

I had just begun.

When I was Two,

I was nearly new.

When I was Three,

I was hardly Me.

When I was Four,

I was not much more.

When I was Five,

I was just alive.

But now I am Six, I’m as clever as clever.

So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.

A.A. MILNE (1882–1956) began his writing career as a humorist for Punch magazine, and also wrote plays and poetry. In 1926, he published his first stories about Winnie-the-Pooh, which were an instant success. Since then, Pooh has become a world-famous bear, and Milne’s stories have been translated into fifty languages.


ERNEST H. SHEPARD (1879–1976) won a scholarship to the Royal Academy Schools, and later, like Milne, worked for Punch magazine, as a cartoonist and illustrator. Shepard’s witty and loving illustrations of Winnie-the-Pooh and his friends in the Hundred Acre Wood have become an inseparable part of the Pooh stories, and they have become classics in their own right.

*Haw! Haw! Haw!

*So I have had to write this one in

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