1 <br /> <br />Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed, <br />Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read. <br />Then you shall discover, that your name was printed down <br />By the English printers, long before, in London town. <br /> <br />In the great and busy city where the East and West are met, <br />All the little letters did the English printer set; <br />While you thought of nothing, and were still too young to play, <br />Foreign people thought of you in places far away. <br /> <br />Ay, and when you slept, a baby, over all the English lands <br />Other little children took the volume in their hands; <br />Other children questioned, in their homes across the seas: <br />Who was little Louis, won't you tell us, mother, please? <br /> <br />2 <br /> <br />Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it down and go and play, <br />Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of Monterey, <br />Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying buried by the breeze, <br />Tiny sandpipers, and the huge Pacific seas. <br /> <br />And remember in your playing, as the sea-fog rolls to you, <br />Long ere you could read it, how I told you what to do; <br />And that while you thought of no one, nearly half the world away <br />Some one thought of Louis on the beach of Monterey!<br /><br />Robert Louis Stevenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-my-name-child/
