Songs of the Shining Way.

Songs of the
Shining Way

BY
SARAH
NOBLE-IVES

WITH
PICTURES
BY THE
AUTHOR

NEW YORK
R. H. RUSSELL

1899

Copyright, 1899
By ROBERT HOWARD RUSSELL

To EDNA CHAFFEE NOBLE.

For her who dared to take the girl

Half-formed and careless to her heart,

I write these simple childish rhymes,

That she may have that early part,

The baby that she might not see,

The childhood fancies missed in me.

S. N.-I.

CONTENTS

ON THE SHINING WAY.

All through the happy Childhood land

They travel the Shining Way,

The children fresh from the dawn of life,

With never a thought but play.

There’s never a care ’neath the shining hair

Where the sunrise stores its beams;

The wind that blows is the wind of morn

From the shore of the Sea of Dreams.

There’s no other way so glad and sweet,

And no other sky so blue,

And the joy of the road to the children is

That nothing but dreams come true.

There are great dream meadows and purple hills

That only the children know;

They can tell where the tall dream cities rise,

And the sweet dream flowers grow.

So on they pass by the milestone years,

To the land where the grown folks stay,

And only once is the journey made

On the wonderful Shining Way.

THE BEGINNING.

Here is the beginning of the road;

And it’s morning on the hill-top in the sky;

And there’s mist across the valley to hide the Shining Way,

That’s full of other children and happy hours of play,

Where Dorothy will travel by and by.

The air is full of voices strange and sweet,

That crowd around her cradle as it swings.

She thinks they’re made of something white that shimmers on the grass,

For she doesn’t know a dew-drop from the bobolinks that pass,

And she doesn’t know a host of other things.

FIRST STAGE OF THE JOURNEY.

Sing ho! for the road that opens down

Out of the sleepy old Baby Town.

Sing ho! for the joy of the Shining Way,

For Dorothy took her first steps to-day.

Mother has helped her alone to stand,

And now she is holding her dimpled hand,

And now there’s a start and a tipsy run,

And life on the road is well begun.

There’s a tear in the midst of Mother’s smiles,

But Mother will lead her the first few miles.

So let her start on her journey gay.

Sing ho! for the joy of the Shining Way.

AN EARLY START.

The dark had not unwrapped the skies

When I awoke, and rubbed my eyes.

The world was full of chirping birds,

I heard their soft, half-sleepy words.

I tiptoed softly on the floor,

I slipped the bolt, stole thro’ the door,

And lo! a wondrous world of gray

And silver mist before me lay.

The white dews wet my small bare feet,

As I ran thro’ the meadows, sweet

With clover nodding all about,

And sleepy hum-bees creeping out.

And then a strange thing came to pass;

The Sun was sleeping in the grass;

He must have wakened when I came,

For all at once a rosy flame

Peeped at me o’er a little mound,

And soon the bright Sun, warm and round

Was looking at me, smiling down

To see my little slumber-gown.

O fair the meadow was to see!

The blossoms laughed and spoke to me.

And drops like pearls in every place

Were hanging on the spider’s lace;

And little rainbows everywhere

Were dancing in the golden air;

And bees, and yellow butterflies,

And beetles, brown and big and wise,

Went buzzing, flying all about,

And busy ants ran in and out,

And songs were in the deep-blue sky,

—I could not see, they flew so high.

But all about these things I know,

Because the daisies whispered low,

And told me all they knew—much more

Than I had ever dreamed before.

And broad and white across the day

Before me ran the Shining Way.

THE BUTTERFLY.

Butterfly, say, is it true,

All that the daisies have told?

Are those bright spots on your wings

Made out of rainbows and gold?

Did you come down on a beam

Of light that shot thro’ the blue?

Are you a piece of the sun?

Butterfly, say, is it true?

THE MOON.

Swim, white Moon, in the dusky blue,

Swim in the still dark sky.

Soft are the clouds that cover you;

And Jimmy and Alice and I

Some time, perhaps, a journey will make

Across the sea on your silver wake.

Swing, white Moon, to the breeze that blows

From the Milky Way so bright.

Alice told me (and Alice knows),

That I may climb up some night,

And swing in the cradle you make for me,

Higher than even the highest tree.

THE MERCHANT SHIP.

Down by the side of the Shining Way

There’s a ship on the raging sea;

And she’s bearing a rich and royal load

Over the waves to me.

(There are cherries juicy and red and sweet,)

And when she has reached this side

The cargo’s mine, and the ship returns

To Jimmy across the tide.

If I blow right hard from my side of the sea

She steadily keeps her track;

And when she has travelled too far for me,

Jimmy will blow her back.

BARN-DOOR INN.

We were tired of travel one afternoon,

And stopped at the sign of “The Great Barn-Door,”

And Jimmy and Alice took rooms in the loft,

While I had mine on the second floor.

Jimmy and Alice went climbing high

Over the rafters above my head,

And peeped thro’ the swallow-holes out at the sky.

—If Mother had seen them, what would she have said?

But I stayed down in the soft new hay,

And the sun crept in thro’ a yellow chink,

And a long beam found me out where I lay,

And tickled my eyes till it made them blink.

The dust-motes circled and whirled and danced,

And my pillow was soft and warm and deep,

And the hay smelled sweet, and it somehow chanced

That there in the mow I fell asleep.

And I dreamed a dream full of swallows’ wings,

And elfish motes in the dusty air,

And thousands of other wonderful things;

Till Jimmy and Alice found me there.

BY COACH.

We’re traveling hard and fast to-day,—

Jimmy and Alice and me—

Bowling along on the Shining Way,

With a royal coach and three.

We laugh at the folk who are passing by,

Dragging their weary feet

Deep in the dust that our whizzing wheels

Have raised in the flying street.

Fields and forests flit out of sight;

And if all goes just as we planned

We’ll travel on till we reach the bars

At the entrance to Fairy Land.

And what is the coach on our lordly quest?

And where are the foaming three?

Why, the coach is the dump-cart, and the rest—

Just Jimmy and Alice and me.

THRO’ FAIRYLAND.

It was dark when we stopped at the Fairy-Land bars,

And over our heads there were millions of stars;

And I was quite frightened, but Jimmy looked bold,

And Alice just shivered—she said it was cold.

We timidly knocked, and then, just as I feared

They would not let us in, lo! the bars disappeared,

And the stars dropped right down from the sky, and behold!

Each one was a lamp for a fairy to hold.

And the fairies went dancing like leaves in the wind,

And beckoned to us as we crept on behind;

And queer little faces, brimful of surprise,

Looked out of the darkness with queer little eyes.

But O the sweet fairies! I never could tell

Of the rose-hues we saw in that wonderful dell—

The daffodil-yellow, the purple and green,

But the sweetest of all was the lily-white Queen.

They sang of the land of the Sugary Dews,

Where children may eat a whole pie, if they choose;

A wonderful land, which some day we shall see,

If the Shining Way leads us—Jim, Alice and me.

O we shouted with glee! and then to our surprise

The stars drifted back again into the skies,

The fairies all vanished, I covered my head,—

And when I looked up, we were all three in bed.

BIRD’S-NEST HOLLOW.

There is something puzzles me.—

In the hollow apple-tree,

Where the Shining Way is broadest, there’s a nest;

Two fat Robins live in it,

In and out I see them flit,

And the biggest wears a gorgeous crimson vest.

We are friends, and so when I

Come to look, they do not fly,

But they chatter from the branches of the tree;

And I run down there to play,

When the sun shines, every day,

And next year they say they’ll build a nest for me.

I peeped in one day, and found

Five small eggs, all blue and round,

And the Robins made me promise not to tell.

For (they said that this was so)

Jim and Alice must not know.

So I promised, and I’ve kept the secret well.

When to-day I climbed the tree,

Those two birds had company;

There were five small squirming children in the nest;

And the Robins whispered me,

’Twas a case of charity,

For the poor wee birdies were not even dressed.

And those little wriggling things

Had big mouths, but wore no wings,

And the Robins served refreshments down the row.

But the eggs are gone, you see;

That’s the thing that puzzles me.

Did those small birds eat them up, I’d like to know?

A SORROW.

The White Rat died last night.

We found him cold and stiff;

We wrapped him warm and tight.

In my best handkerchief.

Jimmy marched on before,

Bearing the poor dead Rat;

Alice deep mourning wore,

I had papa’s silk hat.

Jimmy the sermon preached,

Alice and I just cried.

That was a noble speech,

Worthy the Rat that died.

We made him a tiny grave.

Down in the shadow dim

Where the willow hedge-rows wave

We solemnly buried him.

Jimmy and Alice and I

Went sadly back to our play.

But there’s a cloud in the sky,

And a shade on the Shining Way.

THE RAINBOW.