Read Ebook: Kensington Rhymes by MacKenzie Compton Monsell J R Illustrator

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Ebook has 226 lines and 14145 words, and 5 pages

And when you're going very wrong, The girls begin to laugh; And when you're pushed back in your place, The boys turn round and chaff.

The floor is very slippery, It's difficult to walk From one end to the other end Unless you sort of stalk.

And when the steps have all been done, He takes you by the arm To choose a partner for the dance-- It makes you get quite warm.

You have to bow and look polite, And ask with a grimace The pleasure of the next quadrille, And slouch into your place.

He always picks out girls you hate, I really don't know why, And when you look across the room It almost makes you cry

To see the girl you would have picked Dance with another boy Without a single smile for you, Determined to annoy.

Your heart beats very loud and quick, Your breath comes very fast, You pinch your partner in the chain-- But dances end at last.

You think you will not look at her, You look the other way; Yet when she beckons with her fan, You instantly obey.

How quick the evening gallops by And eight o'clock comes soon, But not till you've arranged to meet To-morrow afternoon.

He's my brother

Eliza is our housemaid

She's an awfully decent girl I know.

POSTMAN'S Knock! Postman's Knock! A letter for the girl next door, And two pence, please, to pay.

Kiss in the Ring! Kiss in the Ring! She's fallen down upon the floor, I don't know what to say.

Postman's Knock! Postman's Knock! I wish that I had asked for more; At games you must obey.

Kiss in the Ring! Kiss in the Ring! When running after her I tore Her frock the other day.

Postman's Knock! Postman's Knock! A letter for the girl next door, And a shilling she must pay.

But she didn't

THE Round Pond is a fine pond With fine ships sailing there, Cutters, yachts and men-o'-war, And sailor-boys everywhere.

Paper boats they hug the shore, And row-boats move with string But cutters, yachts and larger ships Sail on like anything.

Her crew stood on the quarter-deck And stared across the sea, With two brass cannon in the stern For the Royal Artillery.

The Royal Tin Artillery Had faced the sea before, They had fallen in the bath one night And heard the waste-plug roar.

They were rescued by the nursery maid And put on the ledge to dry; And they looked more like the Volunteers Than the Royal Artillery.

For the blue had all come off their clothes, And they afterwards wore grey; But they stood by the cannon like Marines That famous Saturday.

His blood was of the brownest bran And his clothes were full of tucks; But he fell in the sea half-way across, And was eaten up by ducks.

We launched the boat at half-past three, And stood on the bank to watch, And some friends of mine who were fishing there Had a wonderful minnow-catch.

Too far for a five-and-sixpenny ship That was warranted not to upset; But she righted herself in half a tick Though the crew got very wet.

The crew got very wet indeed; The Artillery all fell down, And lay on their backs for the rest of the voyage For fear they were going to drown.

A hook stuck into a wand to guide The schooner safe ashore To incandescent harbour lights And a dock on the school-room floor.

But suddenly the wind dropped dead. And a calm came over the sea, And a terrible rumour got abroad It was time to go home to tea.

We whistled loud, we whistled long, The whole of that afternoon; But there wasn't wind enough to float A twopenny pink balloon.

And the other chaps upon the bank Looked anxiously out to sea; For their sweethearts and sisters were going home, And they feared for the cake at tea.

The keeper found them at break of day, And locked them up quite dry In his little green hut, with a notice that On Monday we must apply.

But though we stood on the tips of our toes, And craned our necks to see, We could not spot the wooden-legged crew Or the Royal Artillery.

THEY say that country children have Most fierce adventures every night, With owls and bats and giant moths That flutter to the candle-light.

They say that country children search For earwigs underneath the sheets, That creeping animals abound Upon the wooden window-seats.

They say that country children wash Their hands in water full of things, Tadpoles and newts and wriggling eels, Until their hands are pink with stings.

But this I know, that if they slept Far, far away from owls and bats, Their hearts would thump tremendously To hear outside two fighting cats.

Two cats that surely must come through The inky window-pane and jump, With gleaming eyes, upon my bed-- Ah, then indeed their hearts would thump.

LAVENDER, lavender! Summer's in town! Blue skies and marguerites, Mother's new gown!

Lavender, lavender! Summer's in town! Blue seas and yellow sands, Children have flown.

Lavender, lavender! Bunchy and sweet! No one wants lavender All down our street.

Lavender girls in London never learn to play, Give them a penny, a penny before you go away.

WHEN I was small and went to bed Before the sun went down, My cot was woven out of gold Like a princess's gown.

And in the garden every night, I used to hear the birds, And from the people on the lawn A pleasant sound of words.

The garden was quite full of pinks Whose smell came blowing in Through windows open very wide Where gnats would dance and spin.

And as I lay in my cool cot, I'd think of daylight hours, Poppies and ox-eyed daisies white, And all the roadside flowers

Now lifting up their drooping heads In the long-shadow time; I'd listen for my mother's step The narrow stairs to climb.

And as she bent to say good-night And heard me say my prayer, She seemed a bit of mignonette, She was so sweet and fair.

And just as I was dozing off, I'd hear some jolly talk Of aunts and uncles setting out To take their supper-walk.

I'd hear their voices die away In the green curly lane; But I was always fast asleep When they came back again.

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