As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear, he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.
Robert Louis Stevenson
I came a cross this poem tonight and remember I had the book, A Child’s Garden of Verses in which this poem can be found. I think it’s a beautiful piece of writing. I hope someone enjoys it.
Ah…. we read this poem recently, and discussed its poignancy, though that’s not quite the word I used w/ my boys (ages 9, 7 & 5). It’s so lovely, so hopeful, yet so sad.
It’s the last three lines that really get me,
“He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.”
Childhood holds such strong memories for most people.
It is so hopefull and sad.