Poem by Kate Greenaway

Under the Window

Under the window is my garden,
	Where sweet, sweet flowers grow;
And in the pear-tree dwells a robin,
	The dearest bird I know.

Tho’ I peep out betimes in the morning,
	Still the flowers are up the first;
Then I try and talk to the robin,
	And perhaps he’d chat – if he durst.

1. Up You Go, Shuttlecocks, Ever So High!
2. Now, All of You, Give Heed unto
3. It Was Tommy Who Said
4. In Go-Cart So Tiny
5. Street Show

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