Foreign Lands
by Robert Louis Stevenson

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.