| |
|
A Diller, A Dollar
A diller, a dollar, a ten o'clock scholar!
What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o'clock;
Now you come at noon.
|
|
The Alphabet
Long is the Alphabet
In my blue reading book:
There is each letter set,
With its peculiar look
Some seeming fat and glad,
Others a little sad.
Some seeming very wise,
Some with a roguish look,
Making all kinds of eyes
In my blue reading book!
While a few seem to say,
"Shall you know us to-day?"
|
|
The Arm-Chair
"I am gouty," said the arm-chair
To the mantelpiece and fender,
"You would scarce perhaps believe it,
But my left foot is quite tender!
"At our fancy ball last midnight
I could hardly step the lancers,
But the ladies were so pressing
They'd not take my 'Noes' for answers!
"There was little round Miss Table,
As charming as she's pretty;
And the lovely Lady Fire Screen,
To refuse her what a pity!
"Then my dear friend, Sophy Cushion,
In her graceful frills and flounces;
Oh what turns we've had together,
Though the spiteful say she bounces!
"But my dancing days are over,
All my days of fun and chatter;
I must be content to sit here
And discuss more solid matter."
Here the mantelpiece and fender,
By the fireside (as their choice is),
In the praise of quiet converse,
To console him raised their voices.
|
|
A-Tisket, A-Tasket
A-tisket, a-tasket,
A green and yellow basket.
I wrote a letter to my love,
But on the way I dropped it.
I dropped it, I dropped it,
And, on the way I dropped it.
A little boy picked it up,
And put it in his pocket.
|
|
At Night
Silence and night were in the air,
I heard their whispers everywhere;
And wind-breaths through the wall-flowers went
Like unseen bees in search of scent.
Deep in the sky some stars were burning,
And then--I heard the round world turning!
|
|
At the Sea-side
Robert Louis Stevenson
When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup.
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.
|
|
Autumn Leaves
Sweep the leaves together,
Yellow, brown and red,
Let us make a bonfire
Now that they are dead.
Chestnut leaves and beech leaves,
Ash and lime and oak,
Fir-cones and pine needles
Kindle into smoke.
Leaves that all the summer
Gave us cool and shade--
What will be left of them
When our bonfire's made?
Only death-like ashes,
But from this same dust
Suns one day will fashion
Life anew, we trust.
|
Back to Main Index
3712
© copyright The Lord's Rain.
All rights reserved.
Graphics by: moody motifs
|
|
|