FOREIGN LANDS

Up into the mango tree
Who should climb but little me?
I held the trunk with both my hands
And looked abroad in foreign lands.

I saw the next door garden lying,
Adorned with flowers, into my eye,
And many pleasant places more
That I had never seen before.

I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sun's blue looking-glass;
The dusty winds go up and down
With people dancing in to the town.

If I could find a higher tree
Farther and farther I could see,
To where the grown-up river slips
Into the sea among the ships,

To where the road on either hand
Lead onward into a magic land,
Where all the children never die,
And all the playthings come alive.