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64-66 Fifth Avenue arms Avenue New York baby's eyes bamboo bank banyan tree bath become the boatman big as father BOOKS OF POETRY catch the moon CHAMPA FLOWER Cloth coloured that little COMPANY 64-66 Fifth corner CRESCENT MOON dada dance dark darling desert of Tepantar drawing by Nandalall fairy tale father writes forest hands heart HELSTON i2tno jasmines king kiss land laugh leave lessons little child little frock little puppy MACMILLAN COMPANY 64-66 Masefield morning light mother dear naughty child never night Original Bengali palanquin paper boats pearls play playmate poet pond postman RABINDRANATH TAGORE rain rivers of fairyland road sail seashore of endless shadow sleep from baby's Sleep-stealer song stars stole sleep story strange tell thirteen rivers tiny tulsi plant stands twelve o'clock village waves whisper wild WILFRID WILSON GIBSON wind window York IMPORTANT BOOKS
Page 18 - When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints — when I give coloured toys to you, my child.
Page 3 - On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. pr , Gitanjali 155 They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.
Page 22 - I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child.
Page 79 - THEY clamour and fight, they doubt and despair, they know no end to their wranglings. Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my child, unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence. They are cruel in their greed and their envy, their words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood. Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child, and let your gentle eyes fall upon them like the forgiving peace of the evening over the strife of the day. Let them see your face, my child,...
Page 4 - The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships ge.t wrecked in the trackless water, .death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.
Page 76 - But I am not so foolish as to hope that I could buy your heart with my gifts. Young is your life, your path long, and you drink the love we bring you at one draught and turn and run away from us. You have your play and your playmates. What harm is there if you have no time or thought for us! We, indeed, have leisure enough in old age to count the days that are past, to cherish in our hearts what our hands have lost for ever. The river runs swift with a song, breaking through all barriers. Buf the...
Page 5 - ... buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes. The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps — does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew- washed morning — the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps.
Page 16 - Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?" the baby asked its mother. She answered half crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast; — " You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling. You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made and unmade you then. You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship I worshipped you.
Page 74 - BLESS this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of heaven for our earth. He loves the light of the sun, he loves the sight of his mother's face. He has not learned to despise the dust, and to hanker after gold. Clasp him to your heart and bless him. He has come into this land of an hundred cross-roads. I know not how he chose you from the crowd, came to your door, and grasped your hand to ask his way.
Page 18 - I bring you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints — when I give coloured toys to you, my child. When I sing to make you dance, I truly know why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth — when I sing to make you dance.