The Posy Ring Part 5

Robert Louis Stevenson.

FOOTNOTE:

[A] _From "Sing-Song," by Christina G. Rossetti. By permission of the Macmillan Company._

[B] _From "A Child's Garden of Verses," by Robert Louis Stevenson. By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons._

_Wild Winds_

Oh, oh, how the wild winds blow!

Blow high, Blow low, And whirlwinds go, To chase the little leaves that fly-- Fly low and high, To hollow and to steep hill-side; They shiver in the dreary weather, And creep in little heaps together, And nestle close and try to hide.

Oh, oh, how the wild winds blow!

Blow low, Blow high, And whirlwinds try To find a crevice--to find a crack, They whirl to the front; they whirl to the back.

But Tommy and Will and the baby together Are snug and safe from the wintry weather.

All the winds that blow Cannot touch a toe-- Cannot twist or twirl One silken curl.

They may rattle the doors in a noisy pack, But the blazing fires will drive them back.

Mary F. b.u.t.ts.

_Now the Noisy Winds Are Still_[A]

Now the noisy winds are still; April's coming up the hill!

All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun, and clatter, patter!-- First the blue, and then the shower; Bursting bud, and smiling flower; Brooks set free with tinkling ring; Birds too full of song to sing; Crisp old leaves astir with pride, Where the timid violets hide,-- All things ready with a will,-- April's coming up the hill!

Mary Mapes Dodge.

_The Wind_

The wind has a language, I would I could learn; Sometimes 'tis soothing, and sometimes 'tis stern; Sometimes it comes like a low, sweet song, And all things grow calm, as the sound floats along; And the forest is lulled by the dreamy strain; And slumber sinks down on the wandering main; And its crystal arms are folded in rest, And the tall ship sleeps on its heaving breast.

Let.i.tia Elizabeth Landon.

FOOTNOTE:

[A] _From "Along the Way," by Mary Mapes Dodge. By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons._

_The Fountain_

Into the sunshine, Full of the light, Leaping and flashing From morn till night!

Into the moonlight, Whiter than snow, Waving so flower-like When the winds blow!

Into the starlight, Rushing in spray, Happy at midnight, Happy by day;

Ever in motion, Blithesome and cheery, Still climbing heavenward, Never aweary;

Glad of all weathers; Still seeming best, Upward or downward; Motion thy rest;

Full of a nature Nothing can tame, Changed every moment, Ever the same;

Ceaseless aspiring, Ceaseless content, Darkness or sunshine Thy element;

Glorious fountain!

Let my heart be Fresh, changeful, constant, Upward like thee!

James Russell Lowell.

_The Waterfall_

_Tinkle, tinkle!_ Listen well!

Like a fairy silver bell In the distance ringing, Lightly swinging In the air; 'Tis the water in the dell Where the elfin minstrels dwell, Falling in a rainbow sprinkle, Dropping stars that brightly twinkle, Bright and fair, On the darkling pool below, Making music so; 'Tis the water elves who play On their lutes of spray.

_Tinkle, tinkle!_ Like a fairy silver bell; Like a pebble in a sh.e.l.l; _Tinkle, tinkle!_ Listen well!

Frank Dempster Sherman.

_The Voice of the Gra.s.s_

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere; By the dusty roadside, On the sunny hill-side, Close by the noisy brook, In every shady nook, I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, smiling everywhere; All around the open door, Where sit the aged poor; Here where the children play, In the bright and merry May, I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere; In the noisy city street My pleasant face you'll meet, Cheering the sick at heart Toiling his busy part,-- Silently creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere; You cannot see me coming, Nor hear my low sweet humming; For in the starry night, And the glad morning light, I come quietly creeping everywhere.