Child Songs of Cheer UP, LITTLE ONES! A robin redbreast, fluting thereUpon the apple-bough,Is telling all the world how fairAre apple-blossoms now;The honey-dew its sweetness spillsFrom cuckoo-cups, and allThe crocuses and daffodilsAre drest for festival! Such pretty things are to be seen,Such pleasant things to do,The April earth it is so green,The April sky so blue,The path from dawn to even-songSo joyous is to-day,Up, little ones!... more...

PAR AVIUM. Two little birds were sitting on a stone, One flew away and then there was one, T’ other flew away and then there was none, So the poor stone was left all alone. One of the little birds back again flew, In came t’ other and then there were two; Says one bird to t’ other, “How do you do?” “Very well, I thank you; pray how do you?” Fama est par avium venisse insistere saxo,... more...

THE KING OF THE CASTLE. A S the lion is called the king of beasts, so the eagle is called the king of birds; but except that it is bigger, stronger, and swifter than other birds, there does not seem much reason for the name. It is a mistake to attribute noble or mean qualities to animals or birds, or to think they can do good or bad actions, when they can only do what God has created them to do, and as their instinct teaches. The most powerful... more...

I Strings in the earth and airMake music sweet;Strings by the river whereThe willows meet.There's music along the riverFor Love wanders there,Pale flowers on his mantle,Dark leaves on his hair.All softly playing,With head to the music bent,And fingers strayingUpon an instrument. II The twilight turns from amethystTo deep and deeper blue,The lamp fills with a pale green glowThe trees of the avenue.The old piano plays an air,Sedate and slow... more...

Though flattered by imitators galore Miss Potter's work stands supreme. Her many picture stories should be among the first books owned by children.     Cecily Parsley lived in a pen,And brewed good ale for gentlemen;   Gentlemen came every day,Till Cecily Parsley ran away.   Goosey, goosey, gander,Whither will you wander?Upstairs and downstairs,And in my lady's chamber!   This pig went to market;This... more...

In the merry spring time, thus says my song,When the sun shines bright and the days grow long,And the crocuses brilliant, in purple and gold,Bloom in the gardens in numbers untold;When in the fields the grass grows green,And a few early lambs are seen;When daffodils in gaudy gownsLook gay upon the verdant downs,And fair spring flowers of each degreeIn every sheltered nook you see. See image   HOW MANY STICKS GO TO THE NEST OF A... more...

INTRODUCTION Upon being asked by a Reader whether the verses contained in this book were true.     And is it True? It is not True.And if it were it wouldn’t do,For people such as me and youWho pretty nearly all day longAre doing something rather wrong.Because if things were really so,You would have perished long ago,And I would not have lived to writeThe noble lines that meet your sight,Nor B. T. B. survived to drawThe nicest... more...

SÉANCE AT SUNRISE Place the new handsIn the old handsOf the old generation,And let us tilt tablesIn the high roomOf our imagination. Let the thick veil glow thin,At sunrise—at sunrise—Let the strange eyes peer in,The red, the black, and the white facesOf the still living deadOf the three races. Let a quaint voice begin: Voice of an Indian"Gone from the land,We leave the music of our names,As pleasant as the sound of... more...

ADVERTISEMENT. This Poem is the result of a sense of duty, which has taken the Author from quieter studies during a great public crisis. He obeyed the impulse with joy, because it took the shape of verse; but with more pain, on some accounts, than he chooses to express. However, he has done what he conceived himself bound to do; and if every zealous lover of his species were to express his feelings in like manner, to the best of his ability,... more...

THE COD-FISHER Where leap the long Atlantic swellsIn foam-streaked stretch of hill and dale,Where shrill the north-wind demon yells,And flings the spindrift down the gale;Where, beaten 'gainst the bending mast,The frozen raindrop clings and cleaves,With steadfast front for calm or blastHis battered schooner rocks and heaves.To same the gain, to some the loss,To each the chance, the risk, the fight:For men must die that men may live—Lord,... more...