Rhymes for the Young Folk. Allingham William

      Amy Margaret's five years old,

      Amy Margaret's hair is gold,

      Dearer twenty-thousand-fold

      Than gold, is Amy Margaret.

      "Amy" is friend, is "Margaret"

      The pearl for crown or carkanet?

      Or peeping daisy, Summer's pet?

      Which are you, Amy Margaret?

      A friend, a daisy, and a pearl;

      A kindly, simple, precious girl, —

      Such, howsoe'er the world may twirl,

      Be ever, – Amy Margaret!

      Jingle, jangle!

      Riot and wrangle!

      What shall we do

      With people like you?

      Here's Jingle!

      There's Jangle!

      Here's Riot!

      There's Wrangle!

      Never was seen such a turbulent crew!

      You, north must go

      To a hut of snow;

      You, south, in a trice,

      To an island of spice;

      You, off to Persia

      And sit on a hill,

      You, to that chair

      And be five minutes' still!

      A strange little Dream

      On a long star-beam

      Ran down from the midnight skies,

      To curly-hair'd Fred

      Asleep in his bed,

      With the lids on his merry blue eyes.

      Under each lid

      The thin Dream slid,

      And spread to a picture inside,

      A new World there,

      Most strange and rare,

      Tho' just by our garden-side.

      Rivers and Rocks,

      And a Treasure-Box,

      And Floating in Air without wings,

      And the Speaking Beast,

      And a Royal Feast,

      My chair beside the King's;

      A Land of Flowers,

      And of lofty Towers

      Carved over in marble white

      With living Shapes

      Of Panthers and Apes

      That gambol in ceaseless flight;

      And a Cellar small

      With its Cave in the Wall

      Stretching many a mile underground!

      And the Rope from the Moon! —

      Fred woke too soon,

      For its end could never be found.

      I love you, Dear, I love you, Dear,

      You can't think how I love you, Dear!

      Supposing I

      Were a Butterfly,

      I'd waver around and above you, Dear.

      A long way off I spied you, Dear,

      No bonnet or hat could hide you, Dear,

      If I were a Bird,

      Believe my word,

      I'd sing every day beside you, Dear.

      When you're away I miss you, Dear,

      And now you're here I'll kiss you, Dear,

      And beg you will take

      This flow'r for my sake,

      And my love along with this, you Dear!

      In Spring-time, the Forest,

      In Summer, the Sea,

      In Autumn, the Mountains,

      In Winter, – ah me!

      How gay, the old branches

      A-swarm with new buds,