Speak Low

 

Where Go the Boats?
By Robert Louis Stevenson
Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.

 

Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating--
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.

 

Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.

Child's Garden of Verses

 

When the Sun Comes After Rain
When the sun comes after rain
And the bird is in the blue,
The girls go down the lane
Two by two.

 

When the sun comes after shadow
And the singing of the showers,
The girls go up the meadow,
Fair as flowers.

 

When the eve comes dusky red
And the moon succeeds the sun,
The girls go home to bed
One by one.

 

And when life draws to its even
And the day of man is past,
They shall all go home to heaven,
Home at last.