Stevenson watches a river carry a child's paper boats past the mill, down the valley, and away out of sight, imagining strangers a hundred miles off pulling them ashore. The picture of a river you can trace from bedroom window to distant sea gives small listeners something to point at and follow. Read it slowly and the repeated "away down" does half the rocking for you.
From A Child's Garden of Verses. See the whole collection.
Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating—
Where will all come home?
On goes the river
And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other little children
Shall bring my boats ashore.
Public domain. Text from A Child's Garden of Verses (Robert Louis Stevenson, 1885), via Project Gutenberg. View the source edition