UP into the cherry tree
Who should climb but little me?
I held the trunk
with both my hands
And looked abroad
I saw the next-door garden lie,
Adorned with flowers, before my eye,
And many pleasant
That I had never seen before.
I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sky's blue looking-glass;
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.
By Robert Louis Stevenson