E. E. Cummings
Hist Whist
and other poems
for children
Illustrated by
David Calsada
Edited by
George J. Firmage
Liveright New York London
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Hist Whist and Other Poems for Children
E. E. Cummings
Edited by George James Firmage
Illustrated with line drawings by
David Calsada
Now children can claim for their very own the puddle-wonderful (mudluscious) world where buds know better than books don’t grow, where little itchy mousies with scuttling eyes rustle and run and hidehidehide, and the ree ray rye roh rowster shouts rawrOO.
Cummings’s poetry more than that of any other major American poet keeps faith with childhood. These twenty poems were selected by him and published privately in 1962. The book, which for copyright purposes had to appear in a somewhat abbreviated form, was issued as 16 Poèmes Enfantins in an edition limited to 500 copies.
Hist Whist combines the original twenty poèmes enfantins with the first appearance of the beautiful and evocative line drawings of the young California artist David Calsada. His sensitive pen has captured the spirit of Cummings’s poems in its detailed rendering of a world that only poets and children can see.
George James Firmage, the publisher of 16 Poèmes Enfantins and editor of the new Liveright series of Cummings’s works, has prepared the text and contributed a brief historical note.
Contents
1. O the sun comes up-up-up in the opening
2. in Just-
3. sentinel robins two
4. maggie and milly and molly and may
5. if everything happens that can’t be done
6. the little horse is newlY
7. for any ruffian of the sky
8. & sun &
9. now(more near ourselves than we)
10. o by the by
11. hist whist
12. why did you go
13. mouse) Won
14. !
15. porky & porkie
16. if a cheerfulest Elephantangelchild should sit
17. who are you,little i
18. blossoming are people
19. who(is?are)who
20. little tree
Editor’s Note
Sixteen of the twenty poems chosen for this collection by the poet appeared in a privately printed edition of 500 copies entitled 16 Poèmes Enfantins in January 1962. The complete selection and the illustrations especially prepared for this new edition are published here for the first time.
G.J.F.
Hist Whist
and other poems
for children
1
O the sun comes up-up-up in the opening
sky(the all the
any merry every pretty each
bird sings birds sing
gay-be-gay because today’s today)the
romp cries i and the me purrs
you and the gentle
who-horns says-does moo-woo
(the prance with the
three white its stimpstamps)
the grintgrunt wugglewiggle
champychumpchomps yes
the speckled strut begins to scretch and
scratch-scrutch
and scritch(while
the no-she-yes-he fluffies tittle
tattle did-he-does-she)& the
ree ray rye roh
rowster shouts
rawrOO
2
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it’s
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it’s
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
3
sentinel robins two
guard me and you
and little house this our
from hate from fear
a which of slim of blue
of here will who
straight up into the where
so safe we are
4
maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)
and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and
milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;
and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and
may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.
For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea
5
if everything happens that can’t be done
(and anything’s righter
than books
could plan)
the stupidest teacher will almost guess
(with a run
skip
around we go yes)
there’s nothing as something as one
one hasn’t a why or because or although
(and buds know better
than books
don’t grow)
one’s anything old being everything new
(with a what
which
around we come who)
one’s everyanything so
so world is a leaf so tree is a bough
(and birds sing sweeter
than books
tell how)
so here is away and so your is a my
(with a down
up
around again fly)
forever was never till now
now i love you and you love me
(and books are shuter
than books
can be)
and deep in the high that does nothing but fall
(with a shout
each
around we go all)
there’s somebody calling who’s we
we’re anything brighter than even the sun
(we’re everything greater
than books
might mean)
we’re everyanything more than believe
(with a spin
leap
alive we’re alive)
we’re wonderful one times one
6
the little horse is newlY
Born)he knows nothing,and feels
everything;all around whom is
perfectly a strange
ness(Of sun
light and of fragrance and of
Singing)is ev
erywhere(a welcom
ing dream:is amazing)
a worlD.and in
this world lies:smoothbeautifuL
ly folded;a(brea
thing and a gro
Wing)silence,who;
is:somE
oNe.
7
for any ruffian of the sky
your kingbird doesn’t give a damn—
his royal warcry is I AM
and he’s the soul of chivalry
in terror of whose furious beak
(as sweetly singing creatures know)
cringes the hugest heartless hawk
and veers the vast most crafty crow
your kingbird doesn’t give a damn
for murderers of high estate
whose mongrel creed is Might Makes Right
—his royal warcry is I AM
true to his mate his chicks his friends
he loves because he cannot fear
(you see it in the way he stands
and looks and leaps upon the air)
8
& sun &
sil
e
nce
e
very
w
here
noon
e
is exc
ep
t
on
t
his
b
oul
der
a
drea(chipmunk)ming
9
now(more near ourselves than we)
is a bird singing in a tree,
who never sings the same thing twice
and still that singing’s always his
eyes can feel but ears may see
there never lived a gayer he;
if earth and sky should break in two
he’d make them one(his song’s so true)
who sings for us for you for me
for each leaf newer than can be:
and for his own(his love)his dear
he sings till everywhere is here
10
o by the by
has anybody seen
little you-i
who stood on a green
hill and threw
his wish at blue
with a swoop and a dart
out flew his wish
(it dived like a fish
but it climbed like a dream)
throbbing like a heart
singing like a flame
blue took it my
far beyond far
and high beyond high
bluer took it your
but bluest took it our
away beyond where
what a wonderful thing
is the end of a string
(murmurs little you-i
as the hill becomes nil)
and will somebody tell
me why people let go
11
hist whist
little ghostthings
tip-toe
twinkle-toe
little twitchy
witches and tingling
goblins
hob-a-nob hob-a-nob
little hoppy happy
toad in tweeds
tweeds
little itchy mousies
with scuttling
eyes rustle and run and
hidehidehide
whisk
whisk look out for the old woman
with the wart on her nose
what she’ll do to yer
nobody knows
for she knows the devil ooch
the devil ouch
the devil
ach the great
green
dancing
devil
devil
devil
devil
wheeEEE
12
why did you go
little fourpaws?
you forgot to shut
your big eyes.
where did you go?
like little kittens
are all the leaves
which open in the rain.
little kittens who
are called spring,
is what we stroke
maybe asleep?
do you know?or maybe did
something go away
ever so quietly
when we weren’t looking.
13
mouse)Won
derfully is
anyone else entirely who doesn’t
move(Moved more suddenly than)whose
tiniest smile?may Be
bigger than the fear of all
hearts never which have
(Per
haps)loved(or than
everyone that will Ever love)we
’ve
hidden him in A leaf
and,
Opening
beautiful earth
put(only)a Leaf among dark
ness.sunlight’s
thenlike?now
Disappears
some
thing(silent:
madeofimagination
;the incredible soft)ness
(his ears(eyes
14
!
o(rounD)moon,how
do
you(rouNd
er
than roUnd)float;
who
lly &(rOunder than)
go
:ldenly(Round
est)
?
15
porky & porkie
sit into a moon)
blacker than dreams
are round like a spoon are
both making silence
two-made-of-one
& nothing tells anywhere
“snow will come soon” &
pretending they’re birds sit
creatures of quills
(asleep who must go
things-without-wings
16
if a cheerfulest Elephantangelchild should sit
(holding a red candle over his head
by a finger of trunk,and singing out of a red
book)on a proud round cloud in a white high night
where his heartlike ears have flown adorable him
self tail and all(and his tail’s red christmas bow)
—and if,when we meet again,little he(having flown
even higher)is sunning his penguinsoul in the glow
of a joy which wasn’t and isn’t and won’t be words
while possibly not(at a guess)quite half way down
to the earth are leapandswooping tinily birds
whose magical gaiety makes your beautiful name—
i feel that(false and true are merely to know)
Love only has ever been,is,and will ever be,So
17
who are you,little i
(five or six years old)
peering from some high
window;at the gold
of november sunset
(and feeling:that if day
has to become night
this is a beautiful way)
18
blossoming are people
nimbler than Really
go whirling into gaily
white thousands return
by millions and dreaming
drift hundreds come swimming
(Each a keener secret
than silence even tells)
all the earth has turned to sky
are flowers neither why nor how
when is now and which is Who
and i am you are i am we
(pretty twinkle merry bells)
Someone has been born
everyone is noone
dance around the snowman
19
who(is?are)who
(two faces at a dark
window)this father and his
child are watching snowflakes
(falling & falling & falling)
eyes eyes
looking(alw
ays)while
earth and sky grow
one with won
der until(see
the)with the
bigger much than biggest
(little is)now(dancing yes for)white
ly(joy!joy!joy)and whiteliest all
wonderings are silence is becom
ing each
truebeautifully
more-t
han-thing
(& falling &)
EverychildfatheringOne
20
little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly
i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraid
look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy
then when you’re quite dressed
you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they’ll stare!
oh but you’ll be very proud
and my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we’ll dance and sing
“Noel Noel”
Etcetera
THE UNPUBLISHED POEMS OF
E.E. Cummings
Edited by George J. Firmage and Richard S. Kennedy
Etcetera is the first new collection of poems by E.E. Cummings to be issued in twenty years. Selected from a larger body of completed but as yet unpublished and uncollected poems, Etcetera contains previously unsavored but vintage Cummings, plus a gathering of earlier poems that trace his growth as a “draughtsman of words.”
In all, the editors have chosen 143 poems for the main section of the book and arranged them under the following headings:
Poems from the Harvard Years,
1911–16
Experiments with Typography, Spacing,
and Sound, 1916–17
Reflections of the War, Par is, Imprisonment,
Hist Whist Page 1
