Poems Teachers Ask For - novelonlinefull.com
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And that groan followed him all the way home; In the midst of the night it haunted his room-- "Oh, give to the hungry, potatoes!"
He could bear it no longer; arose and dressed; From his well-filled cellar taking in haste A bag of his best potatoes.
Again he went to the widow's lone hut; Her sleepless eyes she had not shut; But there she sat in that old arm-chair, With the same wan features, the same sad air, And, entering in, he poured on the floor A bushel or more from his goodly store Of choicest potatoes.
The widow's cup was running o'er, Her face was haggard and wan no more.
"Now," said the deacon, "shall we pray?"
"Yes," said the widow, "_now_ you may."
And he kneeled him down on the sanded floor, Where he had poured his goodly store, And such a prayer the deacon prayed As never before his lips essayed; No longer embarra.s.sed, but free and full, He poured out the voice of a liberal soul, And the widow responded aloud "Amen!"
But spake no more of potatoes.
And would you, who hear this simple tale, Pray for the poor, and praying, "prevail"?
Then preface your prayers with alms and good deeds; Search out the poor, their wants and their needs; Pray for peace, and grace, and spiritual food, For wisdom and guidance,-for all these are good,-- _But don't forget the potatoes_.
_J.T. Pettee._
The Parts of Speech
Three little words you often see Are articles _a_, _an_, and _the_.
A noun's the name of anything, As _house_ or _garden_, _hoop_ or _swing_.
Instead of nouns the p.r.o.nouns stand-- _Her_ head, _your_ face, _his_ arm, _my_ hand.
Adjectives tell the kind of noun, As _great_, _small_, _pretty_, _white_ or _brown_.
Verbs tell something to be done-- To _read_, _count_, _sing_, _laugh_ or _run_.
How things are done the adverbs tell, As _slowly_, _quickly_, _ill_ or _well_.
Conjunctions join the words together, As men _and_ women, wind _or_ weather.
The preposition stands before A noun, as _in_ or _through_ a door.
The interjection shows surprise, As _oh!_ how pretty, _ah!_ how wise.
The whole are called nine parts of speech, Which reading, writing, speaking teach.
A New Leaf
He came to my desk with, quivering lip-- The lesson was done.
"Dear Teacher, I want a new leaf," he said, "I have spoiled this one."
I took the old leaf, stained and blotted, And gave him a new one all unspotted, And into his sad eyes smiled, "Do better, now, my child."
I went to the throne with a quivering soul-- The old year was done.
"Dear Father, hast Thou a new leaf for me?
I have spoiled this one."
He took the old leaf, stained and blotted, And gave me a new one all unspotted, And into my sad heart smiled, "Do better, now, my child."
_Carrie Shaw Rice._
The Boy With the Hoe
How are you hoeing your row, my boy?
Say, how are you hoeing your row?
Do you hoe it fair?
Do you hoe it square?
Do you hoe it the best that you know?
Do you cut out the weeds as you ought to do?
Do you plant what is beautiful there?
For the harvest, you know, Will be just what you sow; Are you working it on the square?
Say, are you killing the weeds, my boy?
Are you hoeing your row neat and clean?
Are you going straight At a hustling gait?
Are you cutting out all that is mean?
Do you whistle and sing as you toil along?
Are you finding your work a delight?
If you do it this way You will gladden the day, And your row will be tended right.
Hoeing your row with a will, my boy, And giving it thought and care, Will insure success And your efforts bless, As the crop to the garner you bear; For the world will look on as you hoe your row, And will judge you by that which you do; Therefore, try for first prize, Though your utmost it tries, For the harvest depends on you.
_T.B. Weaver._
Our Flag
Fling it from mast and steeple, Symbol o'er land and sea Of the life of a happy people, Gallant and strong and free.
Proudly we view its colors, Flag of the brave and true, With the cl.u.s.tered stars and the steadfast bars, The red, the white, and the blue.
Flag of the fearless-hearted, Flag of the broken chain, Flag in a day-dawn started, Never to pale or wane.
Dearly we prize its colors, With the heaven light breaking through, The cl.u.s.tered stars and the steadfast bars, The red, the white, and the blue.
Flag of the st.u.r.dy fathers, Flag of the loyal sons, Beneath its folds it gathers Earth's best and n.o.blest ones.
Boldly we wave its colors, Our veins are thrilled anew By the steadfast bars, the cl.u.s.tered stars, The red, the white, and the blue.
_Margaret E. Sangster._
The Little Fir-Trees