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There surely is a gold mine somewhere underneath the gra.s.s, For dandelions are popping out in every place you pa.s.s.
But if you want to gather some you'd better not delay, For the gold will turn to silver soon and all will blow away.
--_Anon._
AT LITTLE VIRGIL'S WINDOW.
There are three green eggs in a small brown pocket, And the breeze will swing and the gale will rock it, Till three little birds on the thin edge teeter, And our G.o.d be glad and our world be sweeter.
--_Edwin Markham._
MEMORY GEMS.
Do thy duty, that is best, Leave unto the Lord the rest.
Whene'er a task is set for you, Don't idly sit and view it-- Nor be content to wish it done; Begin at once and do it.
Beautiful hands are those that do Work that is earnest, brave and true, Moment by moment, the long day through.
--_Sel._
SECOND GRADE
SEVEN TIMES ONE.
There's no dew left on the daisies and clover, There's no rain left in heaven; I've said my "seven times" over and over, Seven times one are seven.
I am old, so old I can write a letter; My birthday lessons are done; The lambs play always, they know no better-- They are only one times one.
O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing And s.h.i.+ning so round and low; You were bright, ah bright! but your light is failing,-- You are nothing now but a bow.
You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven, That G.o.d has hidden your face?
I hope, if you have, you will soon be forgiven, And s.h.i.+ne again in your place.
O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow; You've powdered your legs with gold!
O brave marshmary buds, rich and yellow, Give me your money to hold!
And show me your nest with the young ones in it,-- I will not steal it away; I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet,-- I am seven times one to-day!
--_Jean Ingelow._
CHRISTMAS EVE.
G.o.d bless the little stockings all over the land to-night Hung in the choicest corners, in the glory of crimson light.
The tiny scarlet stockings, with a hole in the heel and toe, Worn by the wonderful journeys that the darlings have to go.
And Heaven pity the children, wherever their homes may be, Who wake at the first gray dawning, an empty stocking to see.
--_Anon._
MORNING SONG.
What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day?
"Let me fly," says little birdie, "Mother, let me fly away."
"Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger."
So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away.
What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie, "Let me rise and fly away."
"Baby, sleep a little longer, Till the little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer, Baby, too, shall fly away."
--_Alfred Tennyson._
SUPPOSE, MY LITTLE LADY.
Suppose, my little lady, Your doll should break her head; Could you make it whole by crying Till your eyes and nose are red?
And wouldn't it be pleasanter To treat it as a joke, And say you're glad 'twas Dolly's, And not your head, that broke?
Suppose you're dressed for walking, And the rain comes pouring down; Will it clear off any sooner Because you scold and frown?
And wouldn't it be nicer For you to smile than pout, And so make suns.h.i.+ne in the house When there is none without?
Suppose your task, my little man, Is very hard to get; Will it make it any easier For you to sit and fret?
And wouldn't it be wiser, Than waiting like a dunce, To go to work in earnest, And learn the thing at once?
--_Phoebe Cory._
THE DAY'S EYE.
What does the daisy see In the breezy meadows tossing?
It sees the wide blue fields o'er head And the little cloud flocks crossing.
What does the daisy see Round the sunny meadows glancing?
It sees the b.u.t.terflies' chase And the filmy gnats at their dancing.