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Once Upon a Time and Other Child-Verses
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If how they did you only knew!
And I was dressed as much as they —
They didn't mind a bit – and Oh,
I saw there, fastened to the grass
With little shiny ropes of glass.
A spider's web! Mamma, you know
You've always said that spiders ate
For breakfast little frightened flies,
For which they long had laid in wait,
A-watching with their cruel eyes —
Well, mamma, in that spider's web-
Somebody told it wrong to you —
There wasn't any fly at all!
Mamma, you will believe it's true;
Everything for breakfast there
Was clover-tops and drops of dew!"
BUTTERFLIES
IF we, my deary, were butterflies, with pur-
ple winglets and golden eyes,
We would not adore the roses alway, and no-
body else, on a sunny day.
If we, my baby, were butterflies, with purple
winglets and golden eyes,
Far away, far away, over land or sea, we would
come to the honey we love in thee.
AN OLD MAXIM
COME, "Silvertongue," and hear the tale
Of that little girl of yore,
Who sat up in a straight-
backed chair
With her tiptoes on
the floor,
And listened to her eld-
ers,
Like a little voiceless
bird:
Dear little model las-
sie,
Who was seen, but
never heard.
NANNY'S SEARCH
O NANNY, my dear little Nanny! and
where have you been to-day?
Y our little coat's old, and the wind blows cold,
and where have you been, I pray?"
"Dear Granny, I've been to the forest to look
for a Christmas-tree —
Santa Claus is so kind, I thought I would find
one growing there wild, maybe,
Full of cakes, with a doll, and candy, and all
for a wee little body like me."
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY
NOW hang up your sunbonnet, Marthy,
And get out your patchwork square,
And sit down here and sew for a while
In your little rocking-chair,
And hear me tell you a story
Of a little girl I knew,
Who made a whole quilt of patchwork
When she wasn't as big as you."
DOLLY'S FAN
DOLLY had a silken fan,
Crimson, with a feather border,
And she – Oh! so airily —
Used to sway it from and toward her.
Dolly, seated in her pew,
Many wondering eyes were scanning;
Tilting up her dainty chin
Toward the parson, softly fanning.
Every little girl in church,
– Pity 'tis to tell such folly —
While the parson preached and prayed,
Tried to fan herself like Dolly!
A PORTRAIT
WHO is that young and gentle dame who
stands in yonder gilded frame,
Clad in a simple muslin gown whose 'broi-
dered frills hang limply down,
Blue ribbons in her yellow
curls, around her neck a string of pearls —
Her
eyes
And I was dressed as much as they —
They didn't mind a bit – and Oh,
I saw there, fastened to the grass
With little shiny ropes of glass.
A spider's web! Mamma, you know
You've always said that spiders ate
For breakfast little frightened flies,
For which they long had laid in wait,
A-watching with their cruel eyes —
Well, mamma, in that spider's web-
Somebody told it wrong to you —
There wasn't any fly at all!
Mamma, you will believe it's true;
Everything for breakfast there
Was clover-tops and drops of dew!"
BUTTERFLIES
IF we, my deary, were butterflies, with pur-
ple winglets and golden eyes,
We would not adore the roses alway, and no-
body else, on a sunny day.
If we, my baby, were butterflies, with purple
winglets and golden eyes,
Far away, far away, over land or sea, we would
come to the honey we love in thee.
AN OLD MAXIM
COME, "Silvertongue," and hear the tale
Of that little girl of yore,
Who sat up in a straight-
backed chair
With her tiptoes on
the floor,
And listened to her eld-
ers,
Like a little voiceless
bird:
Dear little model las-
sie,
Who was seen, but
never heard.
NANNY'S SEARCH
O NANNY, my dear little Nanny! and
where have you been to-day?
Y our little coat's old, and the wind blows cold,
and where have you been, I pray?"
"Dear Granny, I've been to the forest to look
for a Christmas-tree —
Santa Claus is so kind, I thought I would find
one growing there wild, maybe,
Full of cakes, with a doll, and candy, and all
for a wee little body like me."
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY
NOW hang up your sunbonnet, Marthy,
And get out your patchwork square,
And sit down here and sew for a while
In your little rocking-chair,
And hear me tell you a story
Of a little girl I knew,
Who made a whole quilt of patchwork
When she wasn't as big as you."
DOLLY'S FAN
DOLLY had a silken fan,
Crimson, with a feather border,
And she – Oh! so airily —
Used to sway it from and toward her.
Dolly, seated in her pew,
Many wondering eyes were scanning;
Tilting up her dainty chin
Toward the parson, softly fanning.
Every little girl in church,
– Pity 'tis to tell such folly —
While the parson preached and prayed,
Tried to fan herself like Dolly!
A PORTRAIT
WHO is that young and gentle dame who
stands in yonder gilded frame,
Clad in a simple muslin gown whose 'broi-
dered frills hang limply down,
Blue ribbons in her yellow
curls, around her neck a string of pearls —
Her
eyes
Последний отзыв
Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
Далее