Hey, Little Boy

I.

Hey, little boy, little boy, come to me!
Hey, little boy, little boy, Andy!
Hey, little boy, little boy, can it be
Your mouth is crumbed with candy?"
"What's that to you? what's that to me?
What's that to you, nurse Mandy?
It well may be why, certainly
My mouth is crumbed with candy."

II.

"Hey, little boy, little boy, go away!
Hey, boy, on what you banking?
Hey, little boy, little boy, what you say?
You surely want a spanking!"
"Not now, to-morrow, or to-day!
For that you have my thanking:
Come, wash these signs of sweets away,
And I won't get a spanking."

III.

"Hey, little boy, little boy, don't you hear?
Hey, little boy, stop your running!
Hey, boy, come here, and tell me, dear,
Why you're so sweet and cunning."
"If I am sweet, if I am dear,
Now don't you go and tell, oh!
The sweet things that one eats, you hear?
They sweeten up a fellow."

Madison Julius Cawein

Madison Julius Cawein was born on March 23, 1865, in Louisville, Kentucky and died on December 8, 1914. Known as the “Keats of Kentucky,” his poetry often focused on nature, mythology, and the lush landscapes of his home state. Throughout his lifetime, Cawein published more than 30 books of poetry. He is remembered for his vivid and descriptive style and his ability to capture the beauty of the natural world. His works provide a window into the pastoral and often mystical world of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Madison Julius Cawein

The Lady Of The Hills.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

The Elements

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

Sleep Is A Spirit.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

Tristram And Isolt.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

English

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The Land Of Candy

I.

There was once a little boy
So my father told me who
Never cared for any toy,
But just sweet things, as boys do,
Cakes and comfits, cream and ice,
All the things that boys think nice,
That they like, but ought not to;
Doctors say so, more or less,
And their parents, too, I guess:
But they don't know everything.
Boys know something, too, by jing.

II.

Well, this little boy he cried
Day and night for sweet things; ate
Cake and candy soon and late
That is, if they did n't hide
All such things in some good place
Where he could n't find them. So,
One day, when they did n't know,
In the park he met a man,
Funniest man you ever saw,
In a suit of red and tan,
Thin, and straighter than a straw,
Like a stick of...

Madison Julius Cawein

Sweet! Sweet!

    "Sweet! Sweet!
    Come, come and eat,
    Dear little girls
    With yellow curls;
    For here you'll find
    Sweets to your mind.
    On every tree
    Sugar-plums you'll see;
    In every dell
    Grows the caramel.
    Over every wall
    Gum-drops fall;
    Molasses flows
    Where our river goes
    Under your feet
    Lies sugar sweet;
    Over your head
    Grow almonds red.
    Our lily and rose
    Are not for the nose;
    Our flowers we pluck
    To eat or suck
    And, oh! what bliss
    When two friends kiss,
    For they honey sip
    From lip to lip!
    And all you meet,
    In house or street,
    At work or play,
    Sweethearts are they.
    So, little dear,
  ...

Louisa May Alcott

Sweet! Sweet!

"Sweet! Sweet!
Come, come and eat,
Dear little girls
With yellow curls;
For here you'll find
Sweets to your mind.
On every tree
Sugar-plums you'll see;
In every dell
Grows the caramel.
Over every wall
Gum-drops fall;
Molasses flows
Where our river goes.
Under your feet
Lies sugar sweet;
Over your head
Grow almonds red.
Our lily and rose
Are not for the nose;
Our flowers we pluck
To eat or suck.
And, oh! what bliss
When two friends kiss,
For they honey sip
From lip to lip!
And all you meet,
In house or street,
At work or play,
Sweethearts are they.
So, little dear,
Pray feel no fear;
Go where you will;
Eat, eat your fill.
Here is a feast
From west to east;
And yo...

Louisa May Alcott

Little Bird

I.

A Little bird sits in our cottonwood tree,
And perks his head and sings;
And this is the song he pipes to me
While he flirts his tail and wings:
"Hello! hello!
You jolly little fellow!
"Hello! hello! I say!
Do you hear me every morning
How I try to give you warning?
With my little song adorning
Every day, every day;
With my little song adorning every day.
I want to tell you this, sir:
You are sweeter than a kiss, sir,
You are fairer than a posy,
With your face so fresh and rosy;
Oh, I love to see you merry at your play,
Every day;
I love to see you laughing at your play.
Hello! hello!
You merry little fellow!"

II.

And I run to the tree where he sings and sits,
High up on the topmost limb;
And he...

Madison Julius Cawein

Certain Truths About Certain Things

I.

And the boy that lives next door
Said to me one day, There's more
In those rhymes of Mother Goose
And those tales, I don't care whose,
Arabian Nights or Grimm's, or, well,
Any one's, than, I've no doubt,
You or I can ever tell,
Or can ever know about.

II.

Why, there is a land, you know,
Where the world is so-and-so:
Where old Hick-a-Hack-a-more
Kicks the king right out his door
And sits on his throne and kills
Blackbirds as they fly from pies,
Pots them on the windowsills
I ain't telling you no lies.

III.

For I met an old man once
And he was n't any dunce
Who just told me he had been
To that land and he had seen
All those people: even met
Handy Spandy in a shop;
And old Doctor Foster...

Madison Julius Cawein

Little Boy Sleepy

Little boy sleepy won't go to bed,
Though the Sand Man came an hour ago,
And sand all under his eyelids spread:
Though his eyes are heavy and heavy his head,
And his little tired feet seem made of lead,
And he nods and yawns as he drags them slow.

Little Boy Sleepy won't go to bed.
Little Boy Sleepy just has to play,
Though his toys are tired as he, I know:
His little toy-horse in its little toy-dray
Just seems to beg to be put away;
It has worked so hard all day, all day,
Hauling the toy-blocks to and fro.

Little Boy Sleepy just has to play.
Little Boy Sleepy won't be undressed;
"Just one more minute to play, my oh!"
His little lead soldier looks sodistressed,
And his paper rooster hangs down his crest,
And the little wool-dog just begs ...

Madison Julius Cawein