The Keepsake or, Poems and Pictures for Childhood and Youth

by: Anonymous

Publisher: DigiLibraries.com
ISBN: N/A
Language: English
Published: 5 months ago
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RICHARD AND HIS BROTHER.

Richard, come and play with me,
Underneath the willow tree;
Sitting in its peaceful shade,
We'll sing the song papa has made,
Whilst its drooping branches spread,
Stretching far above our head,
Sweetly tempering the blaze
Of the sun's meridian rays.
There the rose and violet blow,
The lily with her bell of snow,
And the richly scented woodbine,
Round about its trunk doth twine;
There the busy bee shall come,
And gather sweets to carry home.
Oh, how happy we shall be,
Underneath the willow tree!
Mary, raise that sleepy head,
For the lark doth carol high,
And the sun has left his bed—
Mary, ope that sleepy eye.
Come, and let me wash you clean,
Brush your hair and tie your frock;
There's your sister Geraldine,
Waiting at the mossy rock.
Sleepy Mary

Hark! the little chicken's cries,
Loudly call for Mary's care,
But if the sluggard will not rise,
George their breakfast shall prepare.
Who shall get the fresh-laid egg,
To place beside her father's cup?
Who shall pour the tea, I beg,
If my Mary is not up?

MARY'S LESSON.

Come, little Mary, come to me,
And say your lesson on my knee,
Your book is there, the pointer in it,
All ready to begin this minute.
What! pout your lip, and scream and cry,
And say, "I won't, I can't:"—Oh fie!
Then go, and in that corner stay,
Till sobs and tears have pass'd away;
Till you can come with voice more mild,
And say, "Mamma, forgive your child."
What little girl is this, whose eyes
Smile through her tears, while thus she cries?
"My dear mamma, I love you, pray
Forgive your child, and let me say
My lesson, standing at your knee,
Then give a kind sweet kiss to me."
It is my Mary! now her look
Is turn'd attentive to her book,
And now her lesson she has read,
Her task without a fault has said,
Mamma's best kiss she now has won,
So well her lessons she has done:
Mary's Lesson

She's happy now, and good and gay,
And joins her sisters at their play;
There on the grass they skip, they sing,
Till all the hills and valleys ring.
THOUGHT HE KNEW BETTER THAN HIS MAMMA.
Brightly shines the winter's sun,
O'er mountains clad with snow,
Blithe and gay the youthful throng
Sport in the plains below.
"Come," the venturous Edward cries,
"Let's try yon glassy tide;
Upon its smooth and frozen breast
We'll make a glorious slide."
"Oh, stay," his sister Ellen said,
"My dearest Edward, stay!
You know mamma forbade us all
To try the ice to-day."
"Hush! foolish Ellen, see how strong,
How firm the ice appears:
Mamma, I'm sure, if she were here,
Would banish all her fears.
"This stone with mighty force I throw,
Nor break, nor crack you see;
Then surely I may slide secure,
It will not yield with me."
He said, and darted o'er the stream,
Then turn'd in triumph round:
"Come, follow me, my comrades brave,
What danger have I found?"
Edward

In his success exulting now,
He leaps with sudden spring—
It cracks!...

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