THE COMMON THINGS

The things that happen every day Are common things, so the grown folks say, But I am a child, and I can see Most wonderful happenings, all for me; The flower can grow, and the bird can sing, But each of these is a wonderful thing! Away to the south, where the air rests sweet On meadows of clover and fields of wheat, Lives the Prince of the Wind, in a castle hewn From a gray rock-hill that touches the moon; And now and again, when the sky is bright And the clouds of summer are floating white The gates of the castle are opened wide And the Prince of the Wind comes out to ride; ’Tis something just a child can see And not for grown-ups, but for me.

In the meadow lands, where the lilies grow Where the reapers sing and the cattle low The river dreams as it moves to sea And the heaven above smiles tenderly; Over its waters she gently bends And her glad, bright smile to its depths she sends So magic sweet, that through and through The river warms to a richer blue; ’Tis something just a child can see And not for grown-ups, but for me. The sun is a fire, so the grown-folks say And warms the earth in a learned way; But the sun is a great round crown, I know, Of a giant who lost it years ago. He was King of the Clouds, till one black day The wind, in an anger, swept him away, And his golden crown, like a living thing Keeps moving about to find its king. ’Tis something just a child can see And not for grown-ups, but for me.

When the night has come, and the lights are out, And the shuddering shadows creep about The moon shines in through the curtain lace With her gentle eyes, and her quiet face, And says with a smile that calms me, quite, “I am God’s bright angel over the night, So go to sleep; don’t be afraid; For a child’s sweet comfort was I made”; ’Tis something just a child can see And not for grown-ups, but for me. I’m glad I’m a child, for it seems too bad To miss so much that would make you glad.