First Section: Moon Poems for the Children/Fairy-tales for the Children
Reading edition
I. Euclid
Old Euclid drew a circle On a sand-beach long ago. He bounded and enclosed it With angles thus and so. His set of solemn greybeards Nodded and argued much Of arc and of circumference, Diameter and such. A silent child stood by them From morning until noon Because they drew such charming Round pictures of the moon.
II. The Haughty Snail-king (What Uncle William told the Children)
Twelve snails went walking after night. They'd creep an inch or so, Then stop and bug their eyes And blow. Some folks... are... deadly... slow. Twelve snails went walking yestereve, Led by their fat old king. They were so dull their princeling had No sceptre, robe or ring— Only a paper cap to wear When nightly journeying. This king-snail said: "I feel a thought Within.... It blossoms soon.... O little courtiers of mine,... I crave a pretty boon.... Oh, yes... (High thoughts with effort come And well-bred snails are ALMOST dumb.) "I wish I had a yellow crown As glistering... as... the moon."
III. What the Rattlesnake Said
The moon's a little prairie-dog. He shivers through the night. He sits upon his hill and cries For fear that I will bite. The sun's a broncho. He's afraid Like every other thing, And trembles, morning, noon and night, Lest I should spring, and sting.
IV. The Moon's the North Wind's Cooky (What the Little Girl Said)
The Moon's the North Wind's cooky. He bites it, day by day, Until there's but a rim of scraps That crumble all away. The South Wind is a baker. He kneads clouds in his den, And bakes a crisp new moon that... greedy North... Wind... eats... again!
V. Drying their Wings (What the Carpenter Said)
The moon's a cottage with a door. Some folks can see it plain. Look, you may catch a glint of light, A sparkle through the pane, Showing the place is brighter still Within, though bright without. There, at a cosy open fire Strange babes are grouped about. The children of the wind and tide— The urchins of the sky, Drying their wings from storms and things So they again can fly.
VI. What the Gray-winged Fairy Said
The moon's a gong, hung in the wild, Whose song the fays hold dear. Of course you do not hear it, child. It takes a FAIRY ear. The full moon is a splendid gong That beats as night grows still. It sounds above the evening song Of dove or whippoorwill.
VII. Yet Gentle will the Griffin Be (What Grandpa told the Children)
The moon? It is a griffin's egg, Hatching to-morrow night. And how the little boys will watch With shouting and delight To see him break the shell and stretch And creep across the sky. The boys will laugh. The little girls, I fear, may hide and cry. Yet gentle will the griffin be, Most decorous and fat, And walk up to the milky way And lap it like a cat.