Pinafore Palace Part 19

Fast grow the young ones, day and night, Till their wings are plumed for a longer flight; Till unto them at the last draws nigh The time when they all must say good-by: Then "Coo," say the little ones, "Coo," says she, And away they fly from the old pine-tree.

Unknown.

_The Other Side of the Sky_

A pool in a garden green, And the sky hung over all; Down to the water we lean-- What if I let you fall?

A little splash and a cry, A little gap in the blue, And you'd fall right into the sky-- Into the sky--and through.

What do you think they'd think?

How do you think they'd greet A little wet baby in pink Tumbling down at their feet?

I wonder if they'd be shy, Those folk of the Far Away: On the other side of the Sky, Do you think you'd be asked to stay?

I think they would say--"No, no"

(Peeping down through a crack), "For they seem to want her below, And so we must send her back."

W. Graham Robertson.

_The Happy World_

The bee is a rover; The brown bee is gay; To feed on the clover, He pa.s.ses this way.

Brown bee, humming over, What is it you say?

"The world is so happy--so happy to-day!"

The martens have nested All under the eaves; The field-mice have jested And played in the sheaves; We have played, too, and rested, And none of us grieves, All over the wide world, who is it that grieves?

William Brighty Rands.

_Come, Little 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; Over the brown fields they danced and flew, Singing the sweet little song they knew.

"Cricket, good-by, we've been friends so long, Little brook, sing us your farewell song; Say you are sorry to see us go; All, you will miss us, right well we know.

"Dear little lambs in your fleecy fold, Mother will keep you from harm and cold; Fondly we watched you in vale and glade, Say, will you dream of our loving shade?"

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

George Cooper.

_Little Jack Frost_

Little Jack Frost went up the hill, Watching the stars and the moon so still, Watching the stars and the moon so bright, And laughing aloud with all his might.

Little Jack Frost ran down the hill, Late in the night when the winds were still, Late in the fall when the leaves fell down, Red and yellow and faded brown.

Little Jack Frost walked through the trees, "Ah," sighed the flowers, "we freeze, we freeze."

"Ah," sighed the gra.s.ses, "we die, we die."

Said Little Jack Frost, "Good-by, Good-by."

Little Jack Frost tripped 'round and 'round, Spreading white snow on the frozen ground, Nipping the breezes, icing the streams, Chilling the warmth of the sun's bright beams.

But when Dame Nature brought back the spring, Brought back the birds to chirp and sing, Melted the snow and warmed the sky, Little Jack Frost went pouting by.

The flowers opened their eyes of blue, Green buds peeped out and gra.s.ses grew; It was so warm and scorched him so, Little Jack Frost was glad to go.

Unknown.

_The Snow-Bird's Song_.

The ground was all covered with snow one day, And two little sisters were busy at play, When a snow-bird was sitting close by on a tree, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee.

He had not been singing that tune very long Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song; "Oh, sister, look out of the window," said she; "Here's a dear little bird singing chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee, etc.

"Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes, And a nice little frock, and a hat, if he choose; I wish he'd come into the parlor and see How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee," etc.

"There is One, my dear child, though I cannot tell who, Has clothed me already, and warm enough too.

Good-morning! Oh, who are as happy as we?"

And away he went singing his chick-a-de-dee.

Chick-a-de-dee, etc.

F. C. Woodworth.

_Snow_

O come to the garden, dear brother, and see, What mischief was done in the night; The snow has quite covered the nice apple-tree, And the bushes are sprinkled with white.

The spring in the grove is beginning to freeze, The pond is hard frozen all o'er; Long icicles hang in bright rows from the trees, And drop in odd shapes from the door.

The old mossy thatch, and the meadows so green, Are covered all over with white; The snowdrop and crocus no more can be seen, The thick snow has covered them quite.

And see the poor birds how they fly to and fro, They're come for their breakfast again; But the little worms all are hid under the snow, They hop about chirping in vain.

Then open the window, I'll throw them some bread, I've some of my breakfast to spare: I wish they would come to my hand to be fed, But they're all flown away, I declare.

Nay, now, pretty birds, don't be frightened, I pray, You shall not be hurt, I'll engage; I'm not come to catch you and force you away, And fasten you up in a cage.

I wish you could know you've no cause for alarm, From me you have nothing to fear; Why, my little fingers could do you no harm, Although you came ever so near.

Jane Taylor.