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Poems Every Child Should Know

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<h3>How the Leaves Came Down.</h3> <div class="pre_poem">"How the Leaves Came Down," by Susan Coolidge (1845-), appeals to children because it helps to reconcile them to going to bed. "I go to bed by day" is one of the crosses of childhood. </div> <table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza"> "I'll tell you how the leaves came down," The great Tree to his children said: "You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, Yes, very sleepy, little Red. It is quite time to go to bed." </div> <div class="stanza"> "Ah!" begged each silly, pouting leaf, "Let us a little longer stay; Dear Father Tree, behold our grief! 'Tis such a very pleasant day, We do not want to go away." </div> <div class="stanza"> So, for just one more merry day To the great Tree the leaflets clung, Frolicked and danced, and had their way, Upon the autumn breezes swung, Whispering all their sports among— </div> <div class="stanza"> "Perhaps the great Tree will forget, And let us stay until the spring, If we all beg, and coax, and fret." But the great Tree did no such thing; He smiled to hear their whispering. </div> <div class="stanza"> "Come, children, all to bed," he cried; And ere the leaves could urge their prayer, He shook his head, and far and wide, Fluttering and rustling everywhere, Down sped the leaflets through the air. </div> <div class="stanza"> I saw them; on the ground they lay, Golden and red, a huddled swarm, Waiting till one from far away, White bedclothes heaped upon her arm, Should come to wrap them safe and warm. </div> <div class="stanza"> The great bare Tree looked down and smiled. "Good-night, dear little leaves," he said. And from below each sleepy child Replied, "Good-night," and murmured, "It is so nice to go to bed!" </div> </td></tr></table> Susan Coolidge. <h3>Willie Winkie.</h3> <div class="pre_poem">"Wee Willie Winkie," by William Miller (1810-72), is included in this volume out of respect to an eight-year-old child who chose it from among hundreds. We had one poetry hour every week, and he studied and recited it with unabated interest to the end of the year. </div> <table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza"> Wee Willie Winkie rins through the town, Up-stairs and doon-stairs, in his nicht-gown, Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock, "Are the weans in their bed?—for it's now ten o'clock." </div> <div class="stanza"> Hey, Willie Winkie! are ye comin' ben? The cat's singin' gay thrums to the sleepin' hen, The doug's speldered on the floor, and disna gie a cheep; But here's a waukrife laddie that winna fa' asleep. </div> <div class="stanza"> Onything but sleep, ye rogue! glow'rin' like the moon, Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon, Rumblin' tumblin' roun' about, crowin' like a cock, Skirlin' like a kenna-what—wauknin' sleepin' folk. </div> <div class="stanza"> Hey, Willie Winkie! the wean's in a creel! Waumblin' aff a body's knee like a vera eel, Ruggin' at the cat's lug, and ravellin' a' her thrums,— Hey, Willie Winkie!—See, there he comes! </div> <div class="stanza"> Wearie is the mither that has a storie wean, A wee stumpie stoussie that canna rin his lane, That has a battle aye wi' sleep before he'll close an ee; But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me. </div> </td></tr></table> William Miller. <h3>The Owl and the Pussy-Cat.</h3> <div class="pre_poem">"The Owl and the Pussy-Cat," by Edward Lear (1812-88), is placed here because I once found that a timid child was much strengthened and developed by learning it. It is a song that appeals to the imagination of children, and they like to sing it. </div> <table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza"> The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat; They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the moon above, And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love! What a beautiful Pussy you are,— You are, What a beautiful Pussy you are!" </div> <div class="stanza"> Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl! How wonderful sweet you sing! Oh, let us be married,—too long we have tarried,— But what shall we do for a ring?" They sailed away for a year and a day To the land where the Bong-tree grows, And there in a wood a piggy-wig stood With a ring in the end of his nose,— His nose, With a ring in the end of his nose. "Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?" Said the piggy, "I will," So they took it away, and were married next day By the turkey who lives on the hill. They dined upon mince and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon, And hand in hand on the edge of the sand They danced by the light of the moon,— The moon, They danced by the light of the moon. </div> </td></tr></table> Edward Lear. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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