Front matter

You who to the rounded prime Of a life of toil and stress, Still have kept the morning-time Of glad youth in heart and spirit, So your laugh, as children hear it, Seems their own, no less,— Take this book of childish rhyme— The Book of Joyous Children. Their first happiness on earth Here is echoed—their first glee: Rich, in sooth, the volume's worth— Not in classic lore, but rich in The child-sagas of the kitchen;— Therefore, take from me To your heart of childish mirth The Book of Joyous Children.