Poems (White)/What the Children Say

by Jeannie Copes White

WHAT THE CHILDREN SAY

The road is hardest clay,
 The dust is deep and dark,
And when it rains all day,
 Such mud! High water mark!

'Tis sand, the great desert.
Water, our great blue sea.
That's clay? It is the dirt,
To make mud pies, you see;
The very finest road
Of all the world around.
How could the frog or toad,
Live on another ground?
  That's what the children say.

The sparrows make their nests
 In drain-pipes and in eaves;
They are such little pests,
 Such vagabonds and thieves.

They are such friendly birds,
So brave and unafraid.
What king you've ever heard
Bird's nests in their house made?
They sing such short sweet songs,
They are so cute and brown,
They're with you all day long,
And all the year around.
  That's what the children say.

Such gallery rockers those!
 They'll turn you on your head;
The straight chairs on your nose,—
 They'll land you there instead.

Oh, they are milk-white steed,
With golden bridle reins.
The other chairs we need
To ride upon the train
That crosses Silver Bridge,
Spanned o'er the River Gold.
We're going to the ridge
Of Fairy Land of old.
  That's what the children say.

I never saw a place!
 Such broken glass and tin!
I hate to show my face
 On outside or within.

Why, we have diamonds here,—
Rubies! opals! sapphires!
With gold and silver dear,
Flashing with lights and fires.
We serve you cakes and pies;
They are not made of dirt;
They're thick, and of great size;
They're custard; 'twill not hurt.
  That's what the children say.

The children have to wear
 Such cheap and common clothes
That do so quickly tear,
 And darning always shows.

Why, mother, don't you know
We live in Fairy Land?
There darning does not show!
Come, take us by the hand.
See all the silken clothes?
With velvet, lace around;
None are as fine as those;
Just hear their rustling sound!
  That's what the children say.

Their food is always plain,
 No cake, no fancy dish;
A better fare I fain
 Would have. 'Tis my wish.

Such lovely bread, I'm sure
'Tis angel's food, I know.
The water is so pure
It has a nectar glow.
No prince in all the realm
Lives better than we do,
With mother at the helm
Providing for us few.
  That's what the children say.

They have to work so hard
 Their lessons to prepare,
While on their monthly card
 High marks are very rare.

I cannot work this sum;
I will not bother, though
To-night the elves will come
And make it right, I know.
The words are hard to spell,
Grammar's so hard to learn.
Well, never mind, I'll tell
Fairies to take their turn.
  That's what the children say.

I wonder if they will
 Be good and noble men?
And women who will fill
 Their places well? Amen.
····
The time has passed long since
I wrote these little lines;
It makes me often wince
To see the age's signs.
My hair is thin and white,
I'm weak and bent with age;
I'm not a pretty sight,
Nor am I a great sage.
I hear a tramp of feet.
My boys are tall and strong.
My girls are tall and sweet;
And they to me belong.

Here comes the Fairy Band
To greet their Fairy Queen;
She's first in all the land
To every one we've seen.
Here are our gifts we lay
In homage at her feet,
And many another day
This birthday may she meet.
Our queen's the fairest maid
This country e'er could boast.
Our garlands all are laid
To be her birthday toast.
Such hair, as soft as silk,
Above a noble brow,
With flesh as white as milk;
Such shapely hands; I trow!
The fairest of the fair,—
We bow in reverence now.
This is our greatest care,
That she may show us how
To climb the highest stair,
To gain the top, just how.
  That's what my children say,