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_The Wind's Song_
O winds that blow across the sea, What is the story that you bring?
Leaves clap their hands on every tree And birds about their branches sing.
You sing to flowers and trees and birds Your sea-songs over all the land.
Could you not stay and whisper words A little child might understand?
The roses nod to hear you sing; But though I listen all the day, You never tell me anything Of father's s.h.i.+p so far away.
Its masts are taller than the trees; Its sails are silver in the sun; There's not a s.h.i.+p upon the seas So beautiful as father's one.
With wings spread out it flies so fast It leaves the waves all white with foam.
Just whisper to me, blowing past, If you have seen it sailing home.
I feel your breath upon my cheek, And in my hair, and on my brow.
Dear winds, if you could only speak, I know what you would tell me now.
My father's coming home, you'd say, With precious presents, one, two, three; A shawl for mother, beads for May, And eggs and sh.e.l.ls for Rob and me.
The winds sing songs where'er they roam; The leaves all clap their little hands; For father's s.h.i.+p is coming home With wondrous things from foreign lands.
Gabriel Setoun.
_Who Likes the Rain?_
"I," said the duck. "I call it fun, For I have my pretty red rubbers on; They make a little three-toed track, In the soft, cool mud,--quack! quack!"
"I!" cried the dandelion, "I!
My roots are thirsty, my buds are dry."
And she lifted a towsled yellow head Out of her green and gra.s.sy bed.
"I hope 'twill pour! I hope 'twill pour!"
Purred the tree-toad at his gray bark door, "For, with a broad leaf for a roof, I am perfectly weather-proof."
Sang the brook: "I laugh at every drop, And wish they never need to stop Till a big, big river I grew to be, And could find my way to the sea."
"I," shouted Ted, "for I can run, With my high-top boots and rain-coat on, Through every puddle and runlet and pool I find on the road to school."
Clara Doty Bates.
_Rain_[3]
The rain is raining all around, It falls on field and tree, It rains on the umbrellas here, And on the s.h.i.+ps at sea.
Robert Louis Stevenson.
[Footnote 3: _From "Poems and Ballads," copyright, 1895, 1896, by Chas. Scribner's Sons._]
_Rain in Spring_
So soft and gentle falls the rain, You cannot hear it on the pane; For if it came in pelting showers, 'Twould hurt the budding leaves and flowers.
Gabriel Setoun.
_Sun and Rain_
If all were rain and never sun, No bow could span the hill; If all were sun and never rain, There'd be no rainbow still.
Christina G. Rossetti.
_Bees_
Bees don't care about the snow; I can tell you why that's so:
Once I caught a little bee Who was much too warm for me.
Frank Dempster Sherman.
_Annie's Garden_
In little Annie's garden Grew all sorts of posies; There were pinks, and mignonette, And tulips, and roses.
Sweet peas, and morning glories, A bed of violets blue, And marigolds, and asters, In Annie's garden grew.
There the bees went for honey, And the humming-birds too; And there the pretty b.u.t.terflies And the lady-birds flew.
And there among her flowers, Every bright and pleasant day, In her own pretty garden Little Annie went to play.
Eliza Lee Follen.
_The Daisy_
I'm a pretty little thing, Always coming with the spring; In the meadows green I'm found, Peeping just above the ground; And my stalk is covered flat With a white and yellow hat.
Little lady, when you pa.s.s Lightly o'er the tender gra.s.s, Skip about, but do not tread On my meek and lowly head; For I always seem to say, Surely winter's gone away.
Unknown.
_p.u.s.s.y Willow_
p.u.s.s.y Willow wakened From her Winter nap, For the frolic Spring Breeze On her door would tap.