« PreviousContinue »
"Not I," said the sheep; "oh, no,
I would not treat a poor bird so;
gave wool the nest to line,
But the nest was none of mine.
"Caw! Caw!" cried the crow, "I should like to know
What thief took away
A bird's nest to-day.”
"Cluck! Cluck!" said the hen,
"Don't ask me again;
Why, I haven't a chick
Would do such a trick.
We all gave her a feather,
On her and her brood.
Cluck! Cluck!" said the hen, "Don't ask me again."
Chirr-a-whirr! Chirr-a-whirr !
All the birds make a stir.
How sad the bird would feel."
A little boy hung down his head,
And he felt so full of shame
He did not like to tell his name.
Two little hands so soft and white,
O dandelion yellow as gold,
I just wait here in the tall green grass
What do you do all night?
I wait and wait till the cool dews fall
And what do you do when your hair is white
They take me up in their dimpled hands
A MILLION LITTLE DIAMONDS
A million little diamonds
Twinkled on the trees;
And all the little maidens said,
"A jewel, if you please!"
But while they held their hands outstretched
A million little sunbeams came
-M. T. Butts.
The daisies white are nursery maids with frills upon their caps;
And daisy buds are little babes they tend upon their laps.
Sing "Heigh-ho!" while the winds sweep low, Both nurses and babies are nodding JUST SO.
The daisy babies never cry, the nurses never scold;
They never crush the dainty frills about their cheeks of gold;
But pure and white, in gay sunlight
They're nid-nodding — pretty sight.
The daisies love the golden sun, upon the
clear blue sky,
He gazes kindly down on them and winks his jolly eye;
While soft and low, all in a row,
Both nurses and babies are nodding JUST SO.
There surely is a gold mine somewhere underneath the grass,
For dandelions are popping out in every place you pass.
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.
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 God be glad and our world be
- Edwin Markham.