ToAChild

TO A CHILD
Rosamund

The fairies have been busy while you slept;
They have been laughing where the sad rains wept,
They have taught beauty to the ignorant flowers,
Set tasks of hope to weary wind-torn bowers
And heard the lessons learned in school-rooms cold
By seedling snapdragon and marigold.
At dawn, while still you slept, I grew aware
How good the fairies are, how many and fair.

The fairy whose delightful gown is red
Across a corner of our garden sped,
And, where her flying rainment fluttered past,
Its roseate reflection still is cast;
Red poppies by the rhododendron's side,
Paeonies gorgeous in their summer pride,
And red may-bushes by the old red wall
Shower down their crimson petals over all.

Then she whose gown is gold, and gold her hair,
Swept down the golden steep straight sunbeam stair,
She lit the tulip-lamps, she lit the torch
Of hollyhock beside the cottage porch.
She dressed the honeysuckle in fring of gold,
She gave the king-cups fairy wealth to hold,
She kissed St. John's wort till it opened wide,
She set they yarrow by the river side.

Then came the lady all whose robes are white:
She made the pale bud blossom in delight,
Set silver stars upon the jasmine's hair,
And gave the stream white lily-buds to wear.
She painted lilies white and pearl-white phlox,
White poppies, passion-flowers and grey-leaved stocks.
Her pure kind touch redeemed the most forlorn,
And even the vile petunia smiled, new-born.

Edith Nesbit, 1958-1924