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Complete Poetical Works
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And they whisper and chuckle, the same words will come.
And it's "Edith, look here! Oh, I say! what a rum
Lot of things you can see from that window!"
And yet, as I told you, there's only that fly
Buzzing round in the pane, and a bit of blue sky,
And the girl in the opposite window, that I
Look at when SHE looks from HER window.
And yet, I've been thinking I'd so like to see
If what goes on behind HER, goes on behind ME!
And then, goodness gracious! what fun it would be
For us BOTH as we sit by our window!
How we'd know when the parcels were hid in a drawer,
Or things taken out that one never sees more;
What people come in and go out of the door,
That we never see from the window!
And that night when the stranger came home with our Jane
I might SEE what I HEARD then, that sounded so plain—
Like when my wet fingers I rub on the pane
(Which they won't let ME do on my window).
And I'd know why papa shut the door with a slam,
And said something funny that sounded like "jam,"
And then "Edith—where are you?" I said, "Here I am."
"Ah, that's right, dear, look out of the window!"
They say when I'm grown up these things will appear
More plain than they do when I look at them here,
But I think I see some things uncommonly clear,
As I sit and look down from the window.
What things? Oh, the things that I make up, you know,
Out of stories I've read—and they all pass below.
Ali Baba, the Forty Thieves, all in a row,
Go by, as I look from my window.
That's only at church time; other days there's no crowd.
Don't laugh! See that big man who looked up and bowed?
That's our butcher—I call him the Sultan Mahoud
When he nods to me here at the window!
And THAT man—he's our neighbor—just gone for a ride
Has three wives in the churchyard that lie side by side.
So I call him "Bluebeard" in search of his bride,
While I'm Sister Anne at the window.
And what do I call you? Well, here's what I DO:
When my sister expects you, she puts me here, too;
But I wait till you enter, to see if it's you,
And then—I just OPEN the window!
"Dear child!" Yes, that's me! "Oh, you ask what that's for?
Well, Papa says you're 'Poverty's self,' and what's more,
I open the window, when YOU'RE at the door,
To see Love fly out of the window!"
ON THE LANDING
(AN IDYL OF THE BALUSTERS)
BOBBY, aetat. 3 1/2. JOHNNY, aetat. 4 1/2.
BOBBY
Do you know why they've put us in that back room,
Up in the attic, close against the sky,
And made believe our nursery's a cloak-room?
Do you know why?
JOHNNY
No more I don't, nor why that Sammy's mother,
What Ma thinks horrid, 'cause he bunged my eye,
Eats an ice cream, down there, like any other!
No more don't I!
BOBBY
Do you know why Nurse says it isn't manners
For you and me to ask folks twice for pie,
And no one hits that man with two bananas?
Do you know why?
JOHNNY
No more I don't, nor why that girl, whose dress is
Off of her shoulders, don't catch cold and die,
When you and me gets croup when WE undresses!
No more don't I!
BOBBY
Perhaps she ain't as good as you and I is,
And God don't want her up there in the sky,
And lets her live—to come in just when pie is—
Perhaps that's why!
And it's "Edith, look here! Oh, I say! what a rum
Lot of things you can see from that window!"
And yet, as I told you, there's only that fly
Buzzing round in the pane, and a bit of blue sky,
And the girl in the opposite window, that I
Look at when SHE looks from HER window.
And yet, I've been thinking I'd so like to see
If what goes on behind HER, goes on behind ME!
And then, goodness gracious! what fun it would be
For us BOTH as we sit by our window!
How we'd know when the parcels were hid in a drawer,
Or things taken out that one never sees more;
What people come in and go out of the door,
That we never see from the window!
And that night when the stranger came home with our Jane
I might SEE what I HEARD then, that sounded so plain—
Like when my wet fingers I rub on the pane
(Which they won't let ME do on my window).
And I'd know why papa shut the door with a slam,
And said something funny that sounded like "jam,"
And then "Edith—where are you?" I said, "Here I am."
"Ah, that's right, dear, look out of the window!"
They say when I'm grown up these things will appear
More plain than they do when I look at them here,
But I think I see some things uncommonly clear,
As I sit and look down from the window.
What things? Oh, the things that I make up, you know,
Out of stories I've read—and they all pass below.
Ali Baba, the Forty Thieves, all in a row,
Go by, as I look from my window.
That's only at church time; other days there's no crowd.
Don't laugh! See that big man who looked up and bowed?
That's our butcher—I call him the Sultan Mahoud
When he nods to me here at the window!
And THAT man—he's our neighbor—just gone for a ride
Has three wives in the churchyard that lie side by side.
So I call him "Bluebeard" in search of his bride,
While I'm Sister Anne at the window.
And what do I call you? Well, here's what I DO:
When my sister expects you, she puts me here, too;
But I wait till you enter, to see if it's you,
And then—I just OPEN the window!
"Dear child!" Yes, that's me! "Oh, you ask what that's for?
Well, Papa says you're 'Poverty's self,' and what's more,
I open the window, when YOU'RE at the door,
To see Love fly out of the window!"
ON THE LANDING
(AN IDYL OF THE BALUSTERS)
BOBBY, aetat. 3 1/2. JOHNNY, aetat. 4 1/2.
BOBBY
Do you know why they've put us in that back room,
Up in the attic, close against the sky,
And made believe our nursery's a cloak-room?
Do you know why?
JOHNNY
No more I don't, nor why that Sammy's mother,
What Ma thinks horrid, 'cause he bunged my eye,
Eats an ice cream, down there, like any other!
No more don't I!
BOBBY
Do you know why Nurse says it isn't manners
For you and me to ask folks twice for pie,
And no one hits that man with two bananas?
Do you know why?
JOHNNY
No more I don't, nor why that girl, whose dress is
Off of her shoulders, don't catch cold and die,
When you and me gets croup when WE undresses!
No more don't I!
BOBBY
Perhaps she ain't as good as you and I is,
And God don't want her up there in the sky,
And lets her live—to come in just when pie is—
Perhaps that's why!
Другие электронные книги автора Bret Harte
Другие аудиокниги автора Bret Harte
Последний отзыв
Удивительная книга. Как никогда актуальна сегодня. Язык и стиль автора настолько тонок, лёгок и изыскан, что легко поведёт читателя в мир героев, кото...
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