The Alphabet

"Come, come, my darling, I must see
How you can say your A, B, C.
Go get your book, and come to me,
And I will hear your E, F, G,
When you have said your A, B, C.

"A, B, C, D, E, F, G,
H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P,
Q, R, S, T, U, W, V,
X, Y, and Z Oh dear me,
Yes, you can say your A, B, C."

After Blenheim

It was a summer evening;
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun;
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round
Which he beside the rivulet
In playing there had found;
He came to ask what he had found
That was so large and smooth and round.

Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh,
JTis some poor fellow's skull," said he,
'Who fell in the great victory.

"I find them in the garden,
For there's many here about;
And often when I go to plough
The ploughshare turns them out.
For many thousand men," said he,
'Were slain in that great victory."

"Now tell us what 'twas all about,"
Young Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes;
"Now tell us all about the war,
And what they fought each other for?"

It was the English," Kaspar cried,
'Who put the French to rout;
But what they fought each other for
I could not well make out.
But everybody said," quoth he,
"That 'twas a famous victory.

"My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly;
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.

"They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won;
For many thousand bodies here
Lay rotting in the sun;
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.

"Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won
And our good Prince Eugene;"
- " Why 'twas a very wicked thing !"
Said little Wilhelmine;
"Nay-nay-my little girl," quoth he,
"It was a famous victory.

"And everybody praised the Duke
Who this great fight did win."
- "But what good came of it at last?”
Quoth little Peterkin:-
“Why that I cannot tell," said he,
"But 'twas a famous victory."

- Robert Southey

The Nightingale And Glow-Worm

A nightingale, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied far off upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark;
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.

The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, right eloquent
Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 'twas the self-same power divine,
Taught you to sing and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."
The songster heard his short oration,
And warbling out his approbation,
Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.

- William Cowper

The Voice of Spring

I am coming, I am coming !
Hark! the honey bee is humming;
See, the lark is soaring high
In the blue and sunny sky,
And the gnats are on the wing
Wheeling round in airy ring.

Listen ! New-born lambs are bleating,
And the cawing rooks are meeting
In the elms a noisy crowd.
All the birds are singing loud,
And the first white butterfly
In the sunshine dances by.

Look around you, look around !
Flowers in all the fields abound,
Every running stream is bright,
All the orchard trees are white,
And each small and waving shoot
Promises sweet autumn fruit.

- Mary Howitt

The Cow And The Ass by Jane Taylor

Beside a green meadow a stream used to flow,
So clear, one might see the white pebbles below.
To this cooling brook the warm cattle would stray,
To stand in the shade on a hot summer's day.

A cow, quite oppressed by the heat of the sun,
Came here to refresh, as she often had done;
And standing quite still, stooping over the stream,
Was musing perhaps, or perhaps she might dream.

But soon a brown ass, of respectable look,
Came trotting up also, to taste of the brook
And to nibble a little at daisies and grass.
"How d'ye do?" said the cow. "How d'ye do?" said the ass.

'Take a seat," said the cow, gently waving her hand.
"By no means, dear madam," said he, "while you stand."
Then stooping to drink, with a complaisant bow,
"Ma'am, your health," said the ass. "Thank you, sir," said the cow.

When a few of these compliments more had been passed,
They laid themselves down on the herbage at last,
And waiting politely, as gentlemen must,
The ass held his tongue, that the cow might speak first.

Then, with a deep sigh, she directly began,
"Don't you think, Mr. Ass, we are injured by man?
'Tis a subject which lies with a weight on my mind,
We really are greatly oppressed by mankind.

"Pray what is the reason I see none at all
That I always must go when Jane chooses to call?
Whatever I'm doing- -'tis certainly hard
I'm forced to leave off, to be milked in the yard.

"I've no will of my own, but must do as they please,
And give them my milk to make butter and cheese.
Sometimes I endeavor to kick down the pail,
Or give her a box on the ear with my tail."

"But ma'am," said the ass, "not presuming to teach
Oh dear, I beg pardon pray finish your speech.
Excuse my mistake," said the courteous swain;
" Go on, and I'll not interrupt you again."

'Why, sir," said the cow, "I just want to observe,
Those hard-hearted tyrants no longer I'll serve;
But leave them forever to do as they please,
And look somewhere else for their butter and cheese."

Ass waited a moment, his answer to scan,
And then, "Not presuming to teach," he began,
"Permit me to say, since my thoughts you invite,
I always saw things in a different light.

“That you afford man an important supply,
No ass in his senses would ever deny;
But then, in return, 'tis but fair to allow,
They are of some service to you, Mistress Cow.

“ 'Tis their pleasant meadow in which you repose,
And they find you a shelter from winter's cold snows.
For comforts like these, we're indebted to man;
And for him, in return, should do all that we can."

The cow, upon this, cast her eyes on the grass,
Not pleased to be schooled in this way by an ass ;
'Yet," said she to herself, 'though he's not very bright,
I really believe that the fellow is right."

- Jane Taylor

Ready For Duty

Daffy-down-dilly came up in the cold
     Through the brown mold,
Although the March breezes blew keen on her face,
Although the white snow lay on many a place.

Daffy-down-dilly had heard under ground
     The sweet rushing sound
Of the streams, as they burst off their white winter chains,
Of the whistling spring winds, and the pattering rains.

"Now then," thought Daffy, deep down in her heart,
     "It's time I should start!"
So she pushed her soft leaves straight up through the ground,
Till she came to the surface and then she looked round.

There was snow all about her, gray clouds overhead;
     The trees all looked dead.
Then how do you think Daffy-down-dilly felt,
When the sun would not shine, and the ice would not melt?

"Cold weather!" said Daffy, still working away;
     "The earth's hard today!
But unless I can manage to lift up my head,
The people will think that Spring herself 's dead!"

So little by little, she brought her leaves out,
     All clustered about;
And then her bright flowers began to unfold,
Till Daffy stood robed in her spring green and gold.

Oh, Daffy-down-dilly, so brave and so true !
     I wish all were like you !
So ready for duty in all sorts of weather,
And holding forth courage and beauty together.

- Anna B. Warner

Winter Jewels

A million little diamonds Twinkled on the trees; And all the little children cried, "A jewel, if you please!" But while they held their hands outstretched To catch the diamonds gay, A million little sunbeams came And stole them all away. - Mrs. Mary F. Butts

The Foolish Fish

"Dear mother," said a little fish,
"Is that a worm I see?
I'm very hungry, and I wish
You'd get the worm for me."

"Sweet innocent," the mother cried,
And started from her nook,
"That worm you see is there to hide
The sharpness of a hook."

As I have heard, the little trout
Was young and foolish too,
And presently he ventured out
To learn what might be true.

Around about the worm he played,
With many a longing look,
And "Dear me!" to himself he said,
"I'm sure there is no hook."

"I think I'll give one little bite;"
And that was what he did,
And thus he died in hapless plight
By not doing as he was bid.

- Ann and Jane Taylor

The Priest And The Mulberry Tree

Did you hear of the curate who mounted his mare,
And merrily trotted along to the fair?
Of creature more tractable none ever heard,
In the height of her speed she would stop at a word;
But again with a word, when the curate said, "Hey,"
She put forth her mettle and galloped away.

As near to the gates of the city he rode,
While the sun of September all brilliantly glowed,
The good priest discovered, with eyes of desire,
A mulberry tree in a hedge of wild briar;
On boughs long and lofty, in many a green shoot,
Hung large, black and glossy, the beautiful fruit.

The curate was hungry and thirsty to boot;
He shrunk from the thorns, though he longed for the fruit;
With a word he arrested his courser's keen speed,
And he stood up erect on the back of his steed;
On the saddle he stood while the creature stood still,
And he gathered the fruit till he took his good fill.

"Sure never," he thought, "was a creature so rare,
So docile, so true, as my excellent mare;
Lo, here now I stand,'* and he gazed all around,
" As safe and as steady as if on the ground;
Yet how had it been, if some traveller this way,
Had, dreaming no mischief, but chanced to cry, 'Hey!'"

He stood with his head in the mulberry tree,
And he spoke out aloud in his fond reverie;
At the sound of the word the good mare made a push,
And down went the priest in the wild-briar bush.
He remembered too late, on his thorny green bed,
Much that well may be thought cannot wisely be said.

- Thomas Love Peacock

Ding Dong!

Ding dong! ding dong!
I'll sing you a song.
Tis about a little bird.
He sat on a tree,
And he sang to me,
And I never said a word.

Ding dong! ding dong!
I'll sing you a song.
'Tis about a little mouse.
He looked very cunning
As I saw him running
About my father's house.

Ding dong! ding dong!
I'll sing you a song.
'Tis about my little kitty.
She's speckled all over,
And I know you'll love her,
For she is very pretty.

- Eliza Lee Fallen.

DAYBREAK

A wind came up out of the sea,
And said: "O mists, make room for me!"

It hailed the ships, and cried: "Sail on,
Ye mariners, the night is gone."

And hurried landward far away,
Crying: "Awake! it is the day.”

It said unto the forest : " Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!

It touched the wood-bird's folded wing,
And said : " O bird, awake and sing !"

It whispered to the fields of corn :
"Bow down, and hail the coming morn!"

It shouted through the belfry tower:
"Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour."

- Henry W. Longfellow

Spring Voices

"Caw! caw!" says the Crow,"
Spring has come again I know;
For as sure as I am born,
There's a farmer planting corn.
I shall breakfast there, I trow,
Long before his corn can grow."

"Quack, quack!" says the Duck,
"Was there ever such good luck!
Spring has cleared the pond of ice,
And the day is warm and nice,
Just as I and Goodman Drake
Thought we'd like a swim to take."

"Croak, croak!" says the Frog,
As he leaps out from the bog;
"Spring is near, I do declare,
For the earth is warm and fair.
Croak! croak! croak! I love the spring,
When the little birdies sing."

The Wind and The Leaves

"Come, little leaves," said the wind one day,
" Come over the meadows with me and play.
Put on your dresses of red and gold;
For summer is gone, and the days grow cold."

Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all.
O'er the brown field then they danced and flew
Singing the soft little songs they knew.

Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went,
Winter had called them, and they were content.
Soon, fast asleep on their earthy beds,
The snow laid a coverlet over their heads.

The Fly

Baby Bye,
Here's a fly;
Let us watch him, you and I.
     How he crawls
     Up the walls;
     Yet he never falls !

I believe with six such legs
You and I could walk on eggs.
     There he goes
     On his toes
     Tickling baby's nose.

Spots of red
Dot his head;
Rainbows on his back are spread.
     That small speck
     Is his neck;
     See him nod and beck.

I can show you, if you choose
Where to look to find his shoes
     Three small pairs
     Made of hairs;
     These he always wears.

He can eat
Bread and meat;
There's his mouth between his feet.
     When it rains
     He complains
     On the window-panes.

Tongues to talk have you and I;
God has given the little fly
     No such things;
     So he sings
     With his buzzing wings.

In the sun
Webs are spun,
What if he gets into one?
     Little fly,
     Ope your eye;
     Spiders are near by;

And a secret I can tell
Spiders never use flies well.
     Then away,
     Do not stay.
     Little fly, good day.

Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

A little boy got out of bed
'Twas only six o'clock
And out the window poked his head.
And spied a crowing cock.

The little boy said, "Mr. Bird,
Pray tell me who are you?'
And all the answer that he heard
Was, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

'What would you think, if you were me,
He said, "and I were you?”
But still that bird provokingly
Cried, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

"Now hark to me, you stupid head,
How much is two times two?'
That old bird winked one eye, and said
Just "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

The boy then slammed the window down,
To a fence the old bird flew,
And flapping hard his two wings brown
Cried, "Cock-a-doodle-doodle-doodle-doo!”

Mop, The Pet Cat

MY own fat hen
Did go one day
Out in the lot,
An egg to lay.

The day was hot
A cow sat by,
And in her ear
Was a big fly.
"Buz, buz, buz, buz"
The fly did go,
In the cow's ear,
bit it so.

The cow did say,
"moo! moo I
Do go a-way,
do ! do !

" Go to the pig,
You bad old fly,
Get out ! get out !
moo I my !"
It did not go,
The bad old fly ;
And now it lit
In the cow's eye.

Tip she did hop !
And ran a-way;
And now my hen
Her egg did lay.

But oh ! oh ! oh !
A sly red fox,
Who was all hid
In an old box,
Did get my hen
And get her egg,
Tho' she did cry,
And she did beg.

But the red fox,
me ! my !
He bit and bit,
So she did die.

He ate her up
In his old den :
He ate her up,
My own fat hen.
And I so sad
All day, did spy
To see the bad
Red fox go by.

I set a net,
And oh ! I saw
The bad red fox
Put in his paw.

Now he did cry,
And he did beg,
But no ! I had
Him by the leg.
To let him go
Was not to be,
And our old Dan
Did say to me :

" the bad fox !
As I say 'one,’
I'll hit him pop !
Out of my gun."

The fox did die,
And my new hen
Can lay an egg,
Or two, or ten.
For now no fox
Can eat my lien,
Or get her egg,
Or two, or ten.

The Hen and Fox

MY own fat hen
Did go one day
Out in the lot,
An egg to lay.

The day was hot
A cow sat by,
And in her ear
Was a big fly.
"Buz, buz, buz, buz"
The fly did go,
In the cow's ear,
bit it so.

The cow did say,
"moo! moo I
Do go a-way,
do ! do !

" Go to the pig,
You bad old fly,
Get out ! get out !
moo I my !"
It did not go,
The bad old fly ;
And now it lit
In the cow's eye.

Tip she did hop !
And ran a-way;
And now my hen
Her egg did lay.

But oh ! oh ! oh !
A sly red fox,
Who was all hid
In an old box,
Did get my hen
And get her egg,
Tho' she did cry,
And she did beg.

But the red fox,
me ! my !
He bit and bit,
So she did die.

He ate her up
In his old den :
He ate her up,
My own fat hen.
And I so sad
All day, did spy
To see the bad
Red fox go by.

I set a net,
And oh ! I saw
The bad red fox
Put in his paw.

Now he did cry,
And he did beg,
But no ! I had
Him by the leg.
To let him go
Was not to be,
And our old Dan
Did say to me :

" the bad fox !
As I say 'one,’
I'll hit him pop !
Out of my gun."

The fox did die,
And my new hen
Can lay an egg,
Or two, or ten.
For now no fox
Can eat my lien,
Or get her egg,
Or two, or ten.

The Rabbit

THE moon is shining o'er the field,
A little breeze is blowing,
The radish leaves are crisp and green,
The lettuces are growing.

The owl is in the ivy-bush,
With both his eyes a-winking ;
The rabbit shakes his little tail,
And sits him down a-thinking--

"Oh ! where are all the dormice gone ?
And are the frogs a-vooing ?
Will no one come to play with me ?
What are they all a-doing ?"

Poor little rabbit, all alone,
Don't let the master meet you ;
He'll shoot you with his little gun,
And merrily he'll eat you !

‘Good Day, Gentle Folk’

OH, yes, sir and miss, I have been to the town ;
It really was pleasant and gay ;
But now I must hurry, the sun's going down,
And so I will wish you good-day.
And so I will wish you good-day, gentle folk,
And so I will wish you good-day.

I know a white rabbit just over the hill,
He's eating a lettuce for tea ;
And a fat speckled duck, with a very large bill,
Is quacking,"Oh, where can she be ?"
And two little mice are there, standing quite still,
They're all of them waiting for me.

For we all love the stars and the little pale moon,
Beneath them we frolic and play ;
My friends have been waiting the whole afternoon,
And so I will wish you good-day.
And so I will wish you good-day, gentle folk,
And so I will wish you good-day.

 

Cock-A-Doodle

I KNOW a lovely dicky-bird,
A cock-a-doodle-doo ; -
My father and my mother
And my sister know it too.

It struts about so gaily,
And it is brave and strong ;
And when it crows, it is a crow,
Both very loud and long.

Oh,"Cock-a-doodle-doo," it crows,
And cock-a-doodle won't
Leave off its cock-a-doodling,
When mother dear cries "Don't !"