With Trumpet and Drum

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C. Scribner's sons, 1892 - Children's poetry - 126 pages

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Page 48 - twas a dream they'd dreamed Of sailing that beautiful sea; But I shall name you the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, And Nod is a little head, And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one's trundle-bed...
Page 79 - And don't you make any noise!" So, toddling off to his trundle-bed, He dreamt of the pretty toys; And, as he was dreaming, an angel song Awakened our Little Boy Blue — Oh! the years are many, the years are long, But the little toy friends are true!
Page 78 - THE little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and stanch he stands; And the little toy soldier is red with rust, And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. "Now don't you go till I come," he said, "And don't you make any noise!
Page 46 - Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe, — Sailed on a river of misty light Into a sea of dew. "Where are you going, and what do you wish?' The old moon asked the three. "We have come to fish for the herring-fish That live in this beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we," Said Wynken, Blynken, And Nod.
Page 47 - Now cast your nets wherever you wish — Never afeard are we"; So cried the stars to the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. All night long their nets they threw To the stars in the twinkling foam — Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, Bringing the fishermen home; 'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed As if it could not be, And some...
Page 35 - PRAYER 1PRAY that, risen from the dead, I may in glory stand — A crown, perhaps, upon my head, But a needle in my hand. I 've never learned to sing or play, So let no harp be mine; From birth unto my dying day, Plain sewing 's been my line. Therefore, accustomed to the end To plying useful stitches, I 'll be content if asked to mend The little angels
Page 109 - I'll nestle my head In the bosom that's soothed me so often, And the wide-awake stars shall sing in my stead A song which our dreaming shall soften. So Mother-my-Love, let me take your dear hand, And away through the starlight...
Page 47 - The old moon laughed and sang a song, As they rocked in the wooden shoe, And the wind that sped them all night long Ruffled the waves of dew; The little stars were the herring-fish That lived in the beautiful sea. "Now cast your nets wherever you wish, But never afeard are we!
Page 62 - I ONCE knew all the birds that came And nested in our orchard trees, For every flower I had a name — My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees; l knew where thrived in yonder glen What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe — Oh, I was very learned then, But that was very long ago. I knew the spot upon the hill Where checkerberries could be found, I knew the rushes near the mill Where pickerel lay that...
Page 117 - And singing all that glorious night, They lured my darling from my side. A little sock, a little toy. A little lock of golden hair, The Christmas music on the air, A watching for my baby boy ' But if again that angel train And...

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