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When We Were Very Young - A. A. Milne [7]

By Root 96 0

“And now,” said the Doctor, “we’ll soon have you right.”

The Dormouse looked out, and he said with a sigh:

“I suppose all these people know better than I.

It was silly, perhaps, but I did like the view

Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).”

The Doctor came round and examined his chest,

And ordered him Nourishment, Tonics, and Rest,

“How very effective,” he said as he shook

The thermometer, “all these chrysanthemums look!”

The Dormouse turned over to shut out the sight

Of the endless chrysanthemums (yellow and white).

“How lovely,” he thought, “to be back in a bed

Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).”

The Doctor said, “Tut! It’s another attack!”

And ordered him Milk and Massage-of-the-back,

And Freedom-from-worry and Drives-in-a-car,

And murmured, “How sweet your chrysanthemums are!”

The Dormouse lay there with his paws to his eyes

And imagined himself such a pleasant surprise:

“I’ll pretend the chrysanthemums turn to a bed

Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red)!”

The Doctor next morning was rubbing his hands,

And saying, “There’s nobody quite understands

These cases as I do! The cure has begun!

How fresh the chrysanthemums look in the sun!”

The Dormouse lay happy, his eyes were so tight

He could see no chrysanthemums, yellow or white,

And all that he felt at the back of his head

Were delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).

And that is the reason (Aunt Emily said)

If a Dormouse gets in a chrysanthemum bed),

You will find (so Aunt Emily says) that he lies

Fast asleep on his front with his paws to his eyes.

Shoes and Stockings

There’s a cavern in the mountain where the old men meet

(Hammer, hammer, hammer…

Hammer, hammer, hammer…)

They make gold slippers for my lady’s feet

(Hammer, hammer, hammer…

Hammer, hammer, hammer…)

My lady is marrying her own true knight,

White her gown, and her veil is white,

But she must have slippers on her dainty feet.

Hammer, hammer, hammer…

Hammer.

There’s a cottage by the river

where the old wives meet

(Chatter, chatter, chatter…

Chatter, chatter, chatter…)

They weave gold stockings for my lady’s feet

(Chatter, chatter, chatter…

Chatter, chatter, chatter…)

My lady is going to her own true man,

Youth to youth, since the world began,

But she must have stockings on her dainty feet.

Chatter, chatter, chatter…

Chatter.

Sand-Between-the-Toes

I went down to the shouting sea,

Taking Christopher down with me,

For Nurse had given us sixpence each—

And down we went to the beach.

We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,

And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.

Whenever a good nor’ wester blows,

Christopher is certain of

Sand-between-the-toes.

The sea was galloping grey and white;

Christopher clutched his sixpence tight;

We clambered over the humping sand—

And Christopher held my hand.

We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,

And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.

Whenever a good nor’ wester blows,

Christopher is certain of

Sand-between-the-toes.

There was a roaring in the sky;

The sea-gulls cried as they blew by;

We tried to talk, but had to shout—

Nobody else was out.

When we got home, we had sand in the hair,

In the eyes and the ears and everywhere;

Whenever a good nor’ wester blows,

Christopher is found with

Sand-between-the-toes.

Knights and Ladies

There is in my old picture-book

A page at which I like to look,

Where knights and squires come riding down

The cobbles of some steep old town,

And ladies from beneath the eaves

Flutter their bravest handkerchiefs,

Or, smiling proudly, toss down gages….

But that was in the Middle Ages.

It wouldn’t happen now; but still,

Whenever I look up the hill

Where, dark against the green and blue,

The firs come marching, two by two,

I wonder if perhaps I might

See suddenly a shining knight

Winding his way from blue to green—

Exactly as it would have been

Those many, many years ago….

Perhaps I might. You never know.

Little Bo-Peep and Little Boy Blue

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