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angel ANONYMOUS arms baby baby boy beautiful bending blue breast bright calls child Child-Song close cold comes COMPANY cradle Daisies darling dead dear deep dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ELLA WHEELER Wilcox eyes face fair fall Father feet flowers fold gentle GEORGE give gone green grow hair hands happy head hear heard heart heaven hour Hush keep kiss land laugh leaves light Lily lips little bird Little brown lives looked lullaby Mammy's li'l moon morning mother Mother-Song nest never night o'er play Poems Raggedy rest Ring Rock rose round shadows shine sing sleep slumber smile snow soft song soon soul stars sweet swing tears tell tender thee things thou thought thousand tree voice warm watch weary wind wings wonderful
Page 279 - THE BAREFOOT BOY BLESSINGS on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace; 291 From my heart I give thee joy, — I was once a barefoot boy!
Page 66 - What the leaves are to the forest, With light and air for food, Ere their sweet and tender juices Have been hardened into wood, — That to the world are children; Through them it feels the glow Of a brighter and sunnier climate Than reaches the trunks below. Come to me, O ye children! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere.
Page 16 - I stood and watched by the window The noiseless work of the sky, And the sudden flurries of snow-birds, Like brown leaves whirling by. I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn, Where a little headstone stood; How the flakes were folding it gently, As did robins the babes in the wood. Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying,
Page 229 - UP the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen We daren't go a-hunting, For fear of little men ; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather. Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam ; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.
Page 210 - The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat: They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are!
Page 95 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Page 278 - ... like proper children, which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all. He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play. And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
Page 280 - Of the wild-flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood ; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the ground mole sinks his well ; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung...
Page 10 - For it was as wavy and golden, And as many changes took, As the shadows of sun-gilt ripples On the yellow bed of a brook. To what can I liken her smiling Upon me, her kneeling lover? How it leaped from her lips to her eyelids, And dimpled her wholly over Till her outstretched hands smiled also, And I almost seemed to see The very heart of her mother Sending sun through her veins to me...