The moon has actually a face like the clock in the hall;She shines on theif on the garden wall,On streets and fields and harbour quays,And birdies sleep in the forks the the trees.
You are watching: The moon by robert louis stevenson
The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,The howling dog by the door that the house,The bat that lies in bed in ~ noon,All love to be out by the light of the moon.
But all of the things that belong come the dayCuddle to sleep come be the end of she way;And flowers and children close their eyesTill up in the morning the sunlight shall arise.
From Breakfast on through all the dayAt home amongst my friends i stay,But every night i go abroadAfar right into the land of Nod.All by myself I have to go,With none come tell me what come do--All alone alongside the streamsAnd increase the mountain-sides of dreams.The strangest things are there for me,Both things to eat and things come see,And plenty of frightening sights abroadTill morning in the land of Nod.Try together I choose to discover the way,I never can get earlier by day,Nor have the right to remember plain and also clearThe curious music that ns hear.
When the grass was carefully mown,Walking top top the lawn alone,In the turf a hole i found,And hid a soldier underground.Spring and also daisies came apace;Grasses hide mine hiding place;Grasses run favor a eco-friendly seaO"er the lawn up to my knee.Under grass alone the lies,Looking up v leaden eyes,Scarlet coat and pointed gun,To the stars and also to the sun.When the grass is ripe choose grain,When the scythe is stoned again,When the lawn is shaven clear,Then my hole shall reappear.I shall uncover him, never ever fear,I shall uncover my grenadier;But for all that"s gone and come,I shall uncover my soldier dumb.He has actually lived, a little thing,In the grassy woods that spring;Done, if he could tell me true,Just as I should like to do.He has seen the starry hoursAnd the springing of the flowers;And the fairy points that passIn the woodlands of the grass.In the quiet he has heardTalking bee and ladybird,And the butterfly has actually flownO"er him as he lay alone.Not a word will he disclose,Not a native of all he knows.I have to lay that on the shelf,And make up the tale myself.
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Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks yet an hour or two; and also then, A blood-red orange, sets again. Prior to the stars have actually left the skies, in ~ morning in the dark i rise; and also shivering in mine nakedness, by the cold candle, bathe and dress. Near by the jolly fire i sit To heat my frozen bones a bit; Or through a reindeer-sled, check out The colder countries round the door. When to go out, mine nurse doth plunder Me in mine comforter and cap; The cold wind burns mine face, and also blows the frosty pepper up mine nose. Black are my measures on silver- sod; special blows mine frosty breath abroad; and tree and house, and also hill and also lake, are frosted prefer a wedding-cake.