My Heroes

Grown-ups read their grown-up volumes by a shaded light I have Long John Silver, stepping through the night. They read books where people say, "Won't you?" or "I beg!" I have Long John Silver, with his wooden leg! What's the use of reading in a parlor chair? Would a real adventure ever find you there? Grown-ups read of birds that sing in a hollow vale; My birds are the winds that ring in a hollow sail. Sister loves a hero with mustache nicely trimmed; I love robbers riding when the moon is dimmed. Mother loves to read of souls that sigh, and sigh, and sigh. I love a buccaneer with a blood-red eye!

I read in the attic when the wind is there; Nothing ever happens in a parlor chair!