A speaker pauses to watch and listen as children play, and the scene makes him half-uncertain whether the happy noise comes from them or from ducks splashing into a pond. Their games turn ordinary things into marvels: a boy riding an oak branch becomes a rider crossing Heaven, and two children planting a cherry-stone fully expect the tree to be grown by tomorrow. The speaker’s tone is warm and admiring, touched by a gentle wistfulness. Children, he suggests, live with a special freedom—they love flowers but do not mourn them when they fade, and when winter arrives they simply treat snowflakes as butterflies. The mood is light, affectionate, and a little envious: it celebrates how imagination and hope let children meet each season without regret.
Children at Play — Summary
I hear a merry noise indeed: Is it the geese and ducks that take Their first plunge in a quiet pond That into scores of ripples break-- Or children make this merry sound? I see an oak tree, its strong back Could not be bent an inch though all Its leaves were stone, or iron even: A boy, with many a lusty call, Rides on a bough bareback through Heaven. I see two children dig a hole And plant in it a cherry-stone: "We'll come to-morrow," one child said-- "And then the tree will be full grown, And all its boughs have cherries red." Ah, children, what a life to lead: You love the flowers, but when they're past No flowers are missed by your bright eyes; And when cold winter comes at last, Snowflakes shall be your butterflies.