Bed In Summer

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

by Robert Louis Stevenson

Comments (6)

I remember long hot summers when adventures with friends were the height of our being. Dens in the woods, sliding down grassy banks on cardboard, street games, no time to eat, grab a piece of bread and jam, then one by one we were called to bed. Never understood why when it was still daylight. Memories!
It's heart-rending when read at the memorial service of a friend who died in her early 60s.
I love the part about hearing the grown-ups feet walking by outside. I can just picture that little kid. It makes me remember the feel of my summer pajamas and the fan in the window and the subway in the distance.
The poem is not enough bad nor too good
I hate youuuu I lost a ####@££&£#
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