 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
PLAYTHINGS.
Not much to make us happy
Do any of us need;
But just the right thing give us,
And we are rich indeed.
Do any of us need;
But just the right thing give us,
And we are rich indeed.
Even as with men and women
It is with girls and boys;
Why should you shower on Jeanie
So many dear-bought toys?
It is with girls and boys;
Why should you shower on Jeanie
So many dear-bought toys?
Some bits of broken china,
A handful of corn-floss,
A shred or two of ribbon,
A strip of velvet moss;
A handful of corn-floss,
A shred or two of ribbon,
A strip of velvet moss;
With her family of rag-children,
And the wide clean earth around,—
No happier little housewife
Can anywhere be found.
And the wide clean earth around,—
No happier little housewife
Can anywhere be found.
But Nannie dear would rather
Leave Jeanie to her play,
And wander by the streamlet,
Or on the hill-top stray.
Leave Jeanie to her play,
And wander by the streamlet,
Or on the hill-top stray.
For a little white cloud passing,
A ripple on the brook,
Much more her heart enriches
Than playhouse, doll, or book.
A ripple on the brook,
Much more her heart enriches
Than playhouse, doll, or book.
Half Nannie's wealth lies hidden
Under the rock's green shelf:
You cannot find it for her;
She keeps the key herself.
Under the rock's green shelf:
You cannot find it for her;
She keeps the key herself.
Wild John likes forest-freedom,
And room for boundless noise,
Better than spending-money,
Or a cityful of toys.
And room for boundless noise,
Better than spending-money,
Or a cityful of toys.
150
And small Ned with a shingle
Digs in his heap of sand;
Never swayed Inca sceptre
Upon a throne so grand.
Digs in his heap of sand;
Never swayed Inca sceptre
Upon a throne so grand.
With large and little children
The trouble is the same;
What pleases us, to others
Is wearisome and tame.
The trouble is the same;
What pleases us, to others
Is wearisome and tame.
Good friends, your entertainment
A well-meant plan may be;
But he 's our benefactor
Who simply leaves us free.
A well-meant plan may be;
But he 's our benefactor
Who simply leaves us free.
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |