IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



And all the children of the West 

 Are getting up and being dressed. 



R. L. STEVENSON. 

 A Child's Garden of Verses. 



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. 



R. L. STEVENSON. 

 A Child's Garden of Verses. 



[130] 



