Foreign Lands

UP into the cherry treeWho should climb but little me?I held the trunk with both my handsAnd looked abroad on foreign lands.

I saw the next door garden lie,Adorned with flowers, before my eye,And many pleasant places moreThat I had never seen before.

I saw the dimpling river passAnd be the sky's blue looking-glass;The dusty roads go up and downWith people tramping in to town.

If I could find a higher treeFarther and farther I should see,To where the grown-up river slipsInto the sea among the ships,

To where the roads on either handLead onward into fairy land,Where all the children dine at five,And all the playthings come alive.