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Once Upon a Time and Other Child-Verses
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He shall shoe not the bay nor the gray;
But shall live as he please, an' sit at his ease,
A-resting the livelong day."
XVIII
Alas, and alas! When it came to pass
That the bud to a flower was grown,
It was pallid and green, – no blossom so mean
In the country side was known.
XIX
Then angrily hurried the elder son,
And hustled his up by the root;
And it gave out a sound, as it left the ground,
Like the shriek of a fairy flute.
XX
But he flung it over the garden wall;
And he cried, with a scowling brow:
"No waistcoat fine, an' no bottle o' wine —
I have labored for naught, I trow! "
XXI
"Now," – cling, clang, – "whoa,my bonny
gray mare!
Cling, clang, – "whoa, my bay!
But the sorrel an' white must wait to-night,
For one son sulks all day."
XXII
But the blue-eyed son till the summer was
done
Cared well for his fairy-flower;
He weeded and watered, and killed the
grub
Would its delicate leaves devour.
XXIII
Then forth to his garden he went one day,
And the fairy plant was dead;
The leaves were black in the white frost-
light,
And the stalk was a shrivelled shred.
XXIV
"Now, never a rose like a golden ball,
Nor a silver lily shall blow;
But never I'll mind, for I'm sure to find
More gold, if I work, I know."
XXV
Then he tenderly pulled up the fairy plant,
And lo, in the frosty mould,
Like a star from the skies to his dazzled eyes,
Was blazing a bulb of gold!
XXVI
"Now," – cling, clang, – "whoa, my bonny
gray mare!
Or gallop or trot, as ye may!
This happy old smith will shoe ye no more,
For he sits at his ease, all day! "
A VALENTINE FOR BABY
The rose is red, the violet's blue,
Pinks are pretty, and so are you."
THE rose is red, my rosy dear;
But that you as yet hardly know,
Since you have only been with us
Four of the times when roses blow.
The violet's blue, my blue-eyed love;
Yet that, perhaps, you hardly knew,
Since you have only four times passed
The violets in their hoods of blue.
The pinks are pretty, baby queen,
And so are you; but that, also,
From being here so short a time,
Perhaps you've hardly learned to know.
THE FAIRY FLAG
A Skye Folk-lore Story
BEYOND the purple gloom of moors,
Beyond the blueness of the sea,
Beyond the range of chalk-white cliffs,
The sun was setting peacefully.
But shall live as he please, an' sit at his ease,
A-resting the livelong day."
XVIII
Alas, and alas! When it came to pass
That the bud to a flower was grown,
It was pallid and green, – no blossom so mean
In the country side was known.
XIX
Then angrily hurried the elder son,
And hustled his up by the root;
And it gave out a sound, as it left the ground,
Like the shriek of a fairy flute.
XX
But he flung it over the garden wall;
And he cried, with a scowling brow:
"No waistcoat fine, an' no bottle o' wine —
I have labored for naught, I trow! "
XXI
"Now," – cling, clang, – "whoa,my bonny
gray mare!
Cling, clang, – "whoa, my bay!
But the sorrel an' white must wait to-night,
For one son sulks all day."
XXII
But the blue-eyed son till the summer was
done
Cared well for his fairy-flower;
He weeded and watered, and killed the
grub
Would its delicate leaves devour.
XXIII
Then forth to his garden he went one day,
And the fairy plant was dead;
The leaves were black in the white frost-
light,
And the stalk was a shrivelled shred.
XXIV
"Now, never a rose like a golden ball,
Nor a silver lily shall blow;
But never I'll mind, for I'm sure to find
More gold, if I work, I know."
XXV
Then he tenderly pulled up the fairy plant,
And lo, in the frosty mould,
Like a star from the skies to his dazzled eyes,
Was blazing a bulb of gold!
XXVI
"Now," – cling, clang, – "whoa, my bonny
gray mare!
Or gallop or trot, as ye may!
This happy old smith will shoe ye no more,
For he sits at his ease, all day! "
A VALENTINE FOR BABY
The rose is red, the violet's blue,
Pinks are pretty, and so are you."
THE rose is red, my rosy dear;
But that you as yet hardly know,
Since you have only been with us
Four of the times when roses blow.
The violet's blue, my blue-eyed love;
Yet that, perhaps, you hardly knew,
Since you have only four times passed
The violets in their hoods of blue.
The pinks are pretty, baby queen,
And so are you; but that, also,
From being here so short a time,
Perhaps you've hardly learned to know.
THE FAIRY FLAG
A Skye Folk-lore Story
BEYOND the purple gloom of moors,
Beyond the blueness of the sea,
Beyond the range of chalk-white cliffs,
The sun was setting peacefully.
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