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Foreign Lands

Up into the cherry tree 

Who should climb but little me? 

I held the trunk with both my hands 

And looked abroad in foreign lands. 

I saw the next door garden lie, 

Adorned with flowers, before my eye, 

And many pleasant places more 

That I had never seen before. 

I saw the dimpling river pass 

And be the sky's blue looking-glass; 

The dusty 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 road on either hand 

Lead onward into fairy land, 

Where all the children dine at five, 

And all the playthings come alive.

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