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I stop at night and fire a gun

To call my faithful band.

And Indians in twos and threes,

Come silently between the trees,

And wait for me to land.

And if I do not want to play

With any Indians today,

I simply wave my hand.

And then they turn and go away—

They always understand.

THE SECOND CHAIR

I’m a great big lion in my cage,

And I often frighten Nanny with a roar.

Then I hold her very tight, and

Tell her not to be so frightened—

And she doesn’t be so frightened any more.

THE THIRD CHAIR

When I am in my ship, I see

The other ships go sailing by.

A sailor leans and calls to me

As his ship goes sailing by.

Across the sea he leans to me,

Above the winds I hear him cry:

“Is this the way to Round-the-World?”

He calls as he goes by.

THE FOURTH CHAIR

Whenever I sit in a high chair

For breakfast or dinner or tea,

I try to pretend that it’s my chair,

And that I am a baby of three.

Shall I go off to South America?

Shall I put out in my ship to sea?

Or get in my cage and be lions and tigers?

Or—shall I be only Me?

Market Square

I had a penny,

A bright new penny,

I took my penny

To the market square.

I wanted a rabbit,

A little brown rabbit,

And I looked for a rabbit

’Most everywhere.

For I went to the stall where they sold sweet lavender.

(“Only a penny for a bunch of lavender!”)

“Have you got a rabbit, ’cos I don’t want lavender?”

But they hadn’t got a rabbit, not anywhere there.

I had a penny,

And I had another penny,

I took my pennies

To the market square.

I did want a rabbit,

A little baby rabbit,

And I looked for rabbits

’Most everywhere.

And I went to the stall where they sold fresh mackerel.

(“Now then! Tuppence for a fresh-caught mackerel!”)

“Have you got a rabbit, ’cos I don’t like mackerel?”

But they hadn’t got a rabbit, not anywhere there.

I found a sixpence,

A little white sixpence.

I took it in my hand

To the market square.

I was buying my rabbit

(I do like rabbits),

And I looked for my rabbit

’Most everywhere.

So I went to the stall where they sold fine saucepans.

(“Walk up, walk up, sixpence for a saucepan!”)

“Could I have a rabbit, ’cos we’ve got two saucepans?”

But they hadn’t got a rabbit, not anywhere there.

I had nuffin’,

No, I hadn’t got nuffin’,

So I didn’t go down

To the market square;

But I walked on the common,

The old-gold common…

And I saw little rabbits

’Most everywhere!

So I’m sorry for the people who sell fine saucepans,

I’m sorry for the people who sell fresh mackerel,

I’m sorry for the people who sell sweet lavender,

’Cos they haven’t got a rabbit, not anywhere there!

Daffodowndilly

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,

She wore her greenest gown;

She turned to the south wind

And curtsied up and down.

She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbour:

“Winter is dead.”

Water-Lilies

Where the water-lilies go

To and fro,

Rocking in the ripples of the water,

Lazy on a leaf lies the Lake King’s daughter,

And the faint winds shake her.

Who will come and take her?

I will! I will!

Keep still! Keep still!

Sleeping on a leaf lies the Lake King’s daughter….

Then the wind comes skipping

To the lilies on the water;

And the kind winds wake her.

Now who will take her?

With a laugh she is slipping

Through the lilies on the water.

Wait! Wait!

Too late, too late!

Only the water-lilies go

To and fro,

Dipping, dipping,

To the ripples of the water.

Disobedience

James James

Morrison Morrison

Weatherby George Dupree

Took great

Care of his Mother,

Though he was only three.

James James

Said to his Mother,

“Mother,” he said, said he:

“You must never go down to the end of the town,

if you don’t go down with me.”

James James

Morrison’s Mother

Put on a golden gown,

James James

Morrison’s Mother

Drove to the end of the town.

James James

Morrison’s Mother

Said to herself, said she:

“I can get right down to the end of the town

and be back in time for tea.”

King