By Robert Louis Stevenson ReadOasis Step 2 Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the tree with both my hands And looked abroad in foreign lands. I saw the next door garden lie, Graced with flowers, before my eye, And many pleasant places more That I had never seen before. I saw the flowing river pass And be the sky’s blue looking-glass; The dusty roads go up and down With people marching into town. If I could find a higher tree Farther and farther I should see, To where ...