1. |
The Lamplighter
04:09
|
|||
The Lamplighter
Robert Louis Stevenson
My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky.
It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by;
For every night at teatime
and before you take your seat,
With lantern and with ladder
he comes posting up the street
Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea,
And my papa’s a banker and as rich as he can be;
But I, when I am stronger
and can choose what I’m to do,
O Leerie, I’ll go round at night
and light the lamps with you
For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,
And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;
And oh! before you hurry by with ladder and with light;
O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him tonight
|
||||
2. |
Block City
03:30
|
|||
Block City
By Robert Louis Stevenson
What are you able to build with your blocks?
Castles and palaces, temples and docks.
Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,
But I can be happy and building at home.
Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea,
There I’ll establish a city for me:
A kirk and a mill and a palace beside,
And a harbour as well where my vessels may ride.
Great is the palace with pillar and wall,
A sort of a tower on the top of it all,
And steps coming down in an orderly way
To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay.
This one is sailing and that one is moored:
Hark to the song of the sailors on board
And see, on the steps of my palace, the kings
Coming and going with presents and things!
Now I have done with it, down let it go
All in a moment the town is laid low.
Block upon block lying scattered and free,
What is there left of my town by the sea?
Yet as I saw it, I see it again,
The kirk and the palace, the ships and the men,
And as long as I live and where’er I may be,
I’ll always remember my town by the sea.
|
||||
3. |
Keepsake Mill
04:10
|
|||
Keepsake Mill
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Over the borders, a sin without pardon,
Breaking the branches and crawling below,
Out through the breach in the wall of the garden,
Down by the banks of the river, we go.
Here is the mill with the humming of thunder,
Here is the weir with the wonder of foam,
Here is the sluice with the race running under—
Marvellous places, though handy to home!
Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller,
Stiller the note of the birds on the hill;
Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller,
Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill.
Years may go by, and the wheel in the river
Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day,
Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever,
Long after all of the boys are away.
Home from the Indies and home from the ocean,
Heroes and soldiers we all shall come home;
Still we shall find the old mill wheel in motion,
Turning and churning that river to foam.
You with the bean that I gave when we quarreled,
I with your marble of Saturday last,
Honoured and old and all gaily appareled,
Here we shall meet and remember the past.
|
||||
4. |
The Land of Counterpane
03:02
|
|||
The Land of Counterpane
by Robert Louis Stevenson
When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay
To keep me happy all the day.
And sometimes for an hour or so,
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;
And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.
I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.
|
||||
5. |
Bed in Summer
04:11
|
|||
Bed in Summer
by Robert Louis Stevenson
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?
|
||||
6. |
The Dumb Soldier
03:33
|
|||
The Dumb Soldier
by Robert Louis Stevenson
When the grass was closely mown,
Walking on the lawn alone,
In the turf a hole I found,
And hid a soldier underground.
Spring and daisies came apace;
Grasses hide my hiding place;
Grasses run like a green sea
O’er the lawn up to my knee.
Under grass alone he lies,
Looking up with leaden eyes,
Scarlet coat and pointed gun,
To the stars and to the sun.
When the grass is ripe like grain,
When the scythe is stoned again,
When the lawn is shaven clear,
Then my hole shall reappear.
I shall find him, never fear,
I shall find my grenadier;
But for all that’s gone and come,
I shall find my soldier dumb.
He has lived, a little thing,
In the grassy woods of spring;
Done, if he could tell me true,
just as I should like to do.
He has seen the starry hours
And the springing of the flowers;
And the fairy things that pass
In the forests of the grass.
In the silence he has heard
Talking bee and ladybird,
And the butterfly has flown
O’er him as he lay alone.
Not a word will he disclose,
Not a word of all he knows.
I must lay him on the shelf,
And make up the tale myself.
|
||||
7. |
The Swing
02:55
|
|||
The Swing
by Robert Louis Stevenson
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down.
|
||||
8. |
Picture-books in Winter
03:52
|
|||
Picture-Books in Winter
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Summer fading, winter comes—
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.
Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.
All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children’s eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.
We may see how all things are,
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies’ looks,
In the picture story-books.
How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?
|
||||
9. |
Armies in the Fire
02:40
|
|||
Armies In The Fire
by Robert Louis Stevenson
The lamps now glitter down the street;
Faintly sound the falling feet;
And the blue even slowly falls
About the garden trees and walls.
Now in the falling of the gloom
The red fire paints the empty room:
And warmly on the roof it looks,
And flickers on the backs of books.
Armies march by tower and spire
Of cities blazing, in the fire;
Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
The armies fade, the lustre dies.
Then once again the glow returns;
Again the phantom city burns;
And down the red‑hot valley, lo!
The phantom armies marching go!
Blinking embers, tell me true
Where are those armies marching to,
And what the burning city is
That crumbles in your furnaces.
|
||||
10. |
The Cow
02:52
|
|||
The Cow
by Robert Louis Stevenson
The friendly cow
all red and white,
I love with all my heart:
She gives me cream
with all her might,
To eat with apple‑tart.
She wanders lowing
here and there,
And yet she cannot stray,
All in the pleasant open air,
The pleasant light of day.
And blown by all
the winds that pass
And wet with
all the showers,
She walks among
the meadow grass
And eats the
meadow flowers.
|
||||
11. |
Windy Nights
02:16
|
|||
Windy Nights
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Whenever the moon
and stars are set,
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long
in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by,
Late in the night
when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop
and gallop about?
Whenever the trees
are crying aloud,
And ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway,
low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop
he goes, and then
By he comes back
at the gallop again.
|
||||
12. |
My Shadow
03:45
|
|||
My Shadow
by Robert Louis Stevenson
I have a little shadow
that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him
is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me
from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me,
when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him
is the way he likes to grow
Not at all like proper children,
which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller
than an india‑rubber ball,
And sometimes he’s so little
that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion
of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me
in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me,
he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie
as that shadow sticks to me
One morning, very early,
before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew
on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow,
like an arrant sleepy‑head,
Had stayed at home behind me
and was fast asleep in bed.
|
||||
13. |
Looking-glass River
03:29
|
|||
Looking‑Glass River
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Smooth it glides upon its travel,
Here a wimple, there a gleam
O the clean gravel
O the smooth stream;
Sailing blossoms, silver fishes,
Paven pools as clear as air
How a child wishes
To live down there.
We can see our coloured faces
Floating on the shaken pool
Down in cool places,
Dim and very cool;
Till a wind or water wrinkle,
Dipping marten, plumping trout,
Spreads in a twinkle
And blots all out.
See the rings pursue each other;
All below grows black as night,
Just as if mother
Had blown out the light;
Patience, children, just a minute
See the spreading circles die;
The stream and all in it
Will clear by‑and‑by.
|
||||
14. |
Singing; Rain
04:22
|
|||
Singing
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Of speckled eggs the birdie sings
And nests among the trees;
The sailor sings of ropes and things
In ships upon the seas
The children sing in far Japan,
The children sing in Spain;
The organ with the organ man
Is singing in the rain
Rain
by Robert Louis Stevenson
The rain is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea
|
||||
15. |
The Good Boy
03:12
|
|||
A Good Boy
by Robert Louis Stevenson
I woke before the morning,
I was happy all the day,
I never said an ugly word,
but smiled and stuck to play.
And now at last the sun
is going down behind the wood,
And I am very happy,
for I know that I’ve been good.
My bed is waiting cool and fresh,
with linen smooth and fair,
And I must off to sleepsin-by,
and not forget my prayer.
I know that, till to-morrow
I shall see the sun arise,
No ugly dream shall fright my mind,
no ugly sight my eyes.
But slumber hold me tightly
till I waken in the dawn,
And hear the thrushes singing
in the lilacs round the lawn.
|
||||
16. |
for Robert
03:55
|
Hazzan-Maggid Steve Klaper Oak Park, Michigan
Hazzan Steve Klaper is a Jewish troubadour -- a spiritual storyteller, minstrel and teacher. An ordained Cantor, Maggid and teacher of Torah, Steve draws upon his Orthodox Jewish roots and over 40 years experience as a professional musician, infusing traditional Jewish teachings with melodies, sacred tales and wisdom from a variety of traditions -- ancient teachings that feel somehow familiar. ... more
Contact Hazzan-Maggid Steve Klaper
Streaming and Download help
If you like I Have a Little Shadow, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp