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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