Foreign Lands

  Up into the cherry tree   Who should climb but little me?   I held the trunk with both my hands   And looked abroad on foreign lands.   I saw the next-door garden lie,   Adorned with flowers, before my eye,   And many pleasant faces more   That I had never seen before.   I saw the dimpling river pass   And be the sky's blue looking-glass;   The dusty roads go up and down   With people tramping in to town.   If I could find a higher tree   Farther and farther I should see,   To where the grown-up river slips   Into the sea among the ships,    To where the roads on either hand   Lead onward into fairy land,   Where all the children dine at five,   And all the playthings come alive. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON