When children are playing alone on the green,
In comes the playmate that never was seen.
When children are happy and lonely and good,
The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.

Nobody heard her and nobody saw,
She is a picture you never could draw,
But she’s sure to be present, abroad or at home,
When children are happy and playing alone.

She lies in the laurels, she runs on the grass,
She sings when you tinkle the musical glass;
Whene’er you are happy and cannot tell why,
The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!

She loves to be little, she hates to be big,
’Tis she that inhabits the caves that you dig;
’Tis she when you play with your soldiers of tin
That sides with the Frenchman and never can win.
’Tis she, when at night you go off to your bed,
Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your head;
For wherever they’re lying, in cupboard or shelf,
’Tis she will take care of your playthings herself!

~Robert Louis Stevensen~
*I altered the poem to reflect the feminine rather then the original masculine*
------------------------------------------------------
With thanks to:

Ghost Girl by
Old Fashioned Child Bedroom by
Vintage Child Stock A74 by