,,graded ,,memory ,,selections ,arranged by ,s4 ,d4 ,,waterman1 ,superintendent of ,schools1 ,berkeley1 ,cal4 ,j4 ,w4 ,mc,c,l,y,m,o,n,d,s1 ,superintendent of ,schools1 ,oakland1 ,cal4 ,c4 ,c4 ,,hughes1 ,superintendent of ,schools1 ,alameda1 ,cal4 ,educational ,publishing ,company ,boston ,new ,york ,chicago ,san ,francisco ,copyrighted by ,educational ,publishing ,company #aijc4 ,,preface4 ,it is unfortunately true that the terms education and culture are not synonymous4 ,too often we find that the children in our public schools1 while possessed of the one1 are signally lacking in the other4 ,this is a state of things that cannot be remedied by teaching mere facts4 ,the ,greeks1 many years ago1 found the true method of imparting the latter grace and we shall probably not be able to discover a better one to-day4 ,their youths learned ,homer and the other great poets as a part of their daily tasks1 and by thus constantly dwelling upon and storing in their minds the noblest and most beautifully expressed thought in their literature1 their own mental life became at once refined and strong4 ,the basis of all culture lies in a pure and elevated moral nature1 and so noted an authority as ,president ,eliot1 of ,harvard ,university1 has said that the short memory gems which he learned as a boy in school1 have done him more good in the hour of temptation than all the sermons he ever heard preached4 ,a fine thought or beautiful image1 once stored in the mind1 even if at first it is received indifferently and with little understanding1 is bound to recur again and again1 and its companionship will have a sure1 if unconscious1 influence4 ,the mind that has been filled in youth with many such thoughts and images will surely bear fruit in fine and gracious actions4 ,to the teachers who are persuaded of this truth1 the present collection of poems has much to recommend it4 ,the selections have been chosen both for their moral influence and for their permanent value as literature4 ,they have been carefully graded to suit the needs of every class from the primary to the high school4 ,either the whole poem or a sufficiently long quotation has been inserted to give the child a complete mental picture4 ,the teacher will thus escape the difficulty of choosing among a too great abundance of riches1 or the still greater one of finding for herself1 with few resources1 what serves her purpose4 ,this volume has a further advantage over other books of selections4 ,it is so moderate in price that it will be possible to place it in the hands of the children themselves4 ,the compilers desire to thank ,messrs4 ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co41 ,charles ,scribner's ,sons1 ,bowen1 ,merrill ,co41 ,whittaker ,ray ,co41 and ,doubleday ,mc,clure ,co41 for their kindness in permitting the use of copyrighted material4 ,s4 ,d4 ,,waterman4 ,,contents4 ,,first ,,grade4 ,the ,baby ,george ,macdonald ,the ,little ,plant ,anon4 ,sleep1 ,baby1 ,sleep ,e4 ,prentiss ,one1 ,two1 ,three ,margaret ,johnson ,three ,little ,bugs in a ,basket ,alice ,cary ,whenever a ,little ,child is ,born ,agnes ,l4 ,carter ,sweet and ,low ,alfred ,tennyson ,the ,ferry for ,shadowtown ,anon4 ,my ,shadow ,r4 ,l4 ,stevenson ,quite ,like a ,stocking ,anon4 ,the ,owl and the ,pussy-,cat ,edward ,lear ,forget-me-not ,anon4 ,who ,stole the ,bird's ,nest8 ,anon4 ,two ,little ,hands ,anon4 ,the ,dandelion ,anon4 ,a ,million ,little ,diamonds ,m4 ,butts ,daisy ,nurses ,anon4 ,at ,little ,virgil's ,window ,edwin ,markham ,dandelions ,anon4 ,memory ,gems ,selected ,,second ,,grade4 ,seven ,times ,one ,jean ,ingelow ,christmas ,eve ,anon4 ,morning ,song ,alfred ,tennyson ,suppose1 ,my ,little ,lady ,phoebe ,cary ,the ,day's ,eye ,anon4 ,the ,night ,wind ,eugene ,field ,the ,blue-bird's ,song ,anon4 ,suppose ,anon4 ,autumn ,leaves ,anon4 ,if ,i ,were a ,sunbeam ,lucy ,larcom ,meadow ,talk ,caroline ,leslie ,the ,old ,love ,charles ,kingsley ,bed in ,summer ,r4 ,l4 ,stevenson ,three ,companions ,dinah ,m4 ,craik ,the ,wind ,r4 ,l4 ,stevenson ,the ,minuet ,mary ,mapes ,dodge ,wynken1 ,blynken and ,nod ,eugene ,field ,pretty ,is ,that ,pretty ,does ,alice ,cary ,lullaby ,j4 ,g4 ,holland ,,third ,,grade4 ,discontent ,sarah ,o4 ,jewett ,our ,flag ,anon4 ,song from ,pippa ,passes ,robert ,browning ,little ,brown ,hands ,m4 ,h4 ,krout ,winter and ,summer ,anon4 ,the ,brook ,alfred ,tennyson ,the ,wonderful ,world ,w4 ,b4 ,rands ,don't ,give ,up ,phoebe ,cary ,we ,are ,seven ,wordsworth ,the ,land of ,counterpane ,r4 ,l4 ,stevenson ,the ,brown ,thrush ,lucy ,larcom ,the ,silver ,boat ,anon4 ,the ,dandelion ,anon4 ,afternoon in ,february ,longfellow ,nikolina ,celia ,thaxter ,lost ,celia ,thaxter ,robin or ,i8 ,sarah ,e4 ,sprague ,,fourth ,,grade4 ,psalm ,,xxiii ,bible ,the ,mountain and the ,squirrel ,ralph ,w4 ,emerson ,abou ,ben ,adhem ,leigh ,hunt ,bugle ,song ,alfred ,tennyson ,little ,boy ,blue ,eugene ,field ,pittypat and ,tippytoe ,eugene ,field ,red ,riding ,hood ,whittier ,the ,sandpiper and ,i ,celia ,thaxter ,in ,school ,days ,whittier ,take ,care ,alice ,cary ,a ,life ,lesson ,james ,w4 ,riley ,,fifth ,,grade4 ,the ,village ,blacksmith ,longfellow ,love of ,country ,scott ,the ,daffodils ,wordsworth ,a ,child's ,thought of ,god ,mrs4 ,browning ,from ,my ,arm-chair ,longfellow ,a ,song of ,easter ,celia ,thaxter ,the ,joy of the ,hills ,edwin ,markham ,in ,blossom ,time ,ina ,coolbrith ,the ,stars and the ,flowers ,longfellow ,meadow ,larks ,ina ,coolbrith ,the ,arrow and the ,song ,longfellow ,the ,fiftieth ,birthday of ,agassiz ,longfellow ,,sixth ,,grade4 ,break1 ,break1 ,break ,alfred ,tennyson ,columbus--,westward ,joaquin ,miller ,the ,day is ,done ,longfellow ,the ,landing of the ,pilgrims ,mrs4 ,hemans ,he ,prayeth ,best ,coleridge ,each and ,all ,emerson ,paul ,revere's ,ride ,longfellow ,battle ,hymn of the ,republic ,julia ,ward ,howe ,the ,barefoot ,boy ,whittier ,lincoln1 the ,great ,commoner ,edwin ,markham ,opportunity ,edward ,r4 ,sill ,a ,song ,james ,w4 ,riley ,to a ,friend ,halleck ,,seventh ,,grade4 ,psalm ,,cxxi ,bible ,rain in ,summer ,longfellow ,a ,psalm of ,life ,longfellow ,hymn on the ,fight at ,concord ,r4 ,w4 ,emerson ,to a ,water-fowl ,william ,c4 ,bryant ,the ,heritage ,james ,r4 ,lowell ,elegy ,written in a ,country ,churchyard ,thomas ,gray ,gradatim ,j4 ,g4 ,holland ,god ,save the ,flag ,o4 ,w4 ,holmes ,life ,edward ,r4 ,sill ,,eighth ,,grade4 ,hymn to the ,night ,longfellow ,the ,builders ,longfellow ,polonius' ,advice to ,laertes ,shakespeare ,thanatopsis ,w4 ,c4 ,bryant ,the ,american ,flag ,jos4 ,r4 ,drake ,speech at the ,dedication of the ,national ,cemetery at ,gettysburg ,abraham ,lincoln ,to a ,skylark ,shelley ,the ,launching of the ,ship ,longfellow ,recessional ,rudyard ,kipling ,the ,ladder of ,st4 ,augustine ,longfellow ,the ,chambered ,nautilus ,o4 ,w4 ,holmes ,,brief ,,memory ,,gems ,,and ,,proverbs4 ,first and ,second ,grades ,third and ,fourth ,grades ,fifth and ,sixth ,grades ,seventh and ,eighth ,grades ,poor ,richard's ,sayings ,,graded ,memory ,selections ,,first ,,grade ,,the ,,baby4 ,where did you come from1 baby dear8 ,out of the everywhere into the here4 ,where did you get your eyes so blue8 ,out of the sky as ,i came through4 ,what makes the light in them sparkle and spin8 ,some of the starry spikes left in4 ,where did you get that little tear8 ,i found it waiting when ,i got here4 ,what makes your forehead so smooth and high8 ,a soft hand stroked it as ,i went by4 ,what makes your cheek like a warm1 white rose8 ,i saw something better than any one know4 ,whence that three-corner'd smile of bliss8 ,three angels gave me at once a kiss4 ,where did you get this pearly ear8 ,god spoke1 and it came out to hear4 ,where did you get those arms and hands8 ,love made itself into hooks and bands4 ,feet1 whence did you come1 you darling things8 ,from the same box as the cherubs' wings4 ,how did they all come just to be you8 ,god thought of me and so ,i grew4 ,but how did you come to us1 you dear8 ,god thought of you1 and so ,i am here4 --,george ,macdonald4 ,,the ,,little ,,plant4 ,in the heart of a seed1 buried deep1 so deep1 ,a dear little plant lay fast asleep4 ,wake1 said the sunshine1 and creep to the light4 ,wake1 said the voice of the rain-drops bright4 ,the little plant heard and rose to see ,what the wonderful outside world might be4 --,anon4 ,,sleep1 ,,baby1 ,,sleep6 ,sleep1 baby1 sleep6 ,thy father watches his sheep2 ,thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree1 ,and down comes a little dream on thee4 ,sleep1 baby1 sleep6 ,sleep1 baby1 sleep6 ,the large stars are the sheep2 ,the little stars are the lambs1 ,i guess2 ,and the gentle moon is the shepherdess4 ,sleep1 baby1 sleep6 ,sleep1 baby1 sleep6 ,our ,saviour loves ,his sheep2 ,he is the ,lamb of ,god on high1 ,who for our sakes came down to die4 ,sleep1 baby1 sleep6 --,e4 ,prentiss 7from the ,german74 ,,one1 ,,two1 ,,three4 ,one1 two1 three1 a bonny boat ,i see1 ,a silver boat and all afloat upon a rosy sea4 ,one1 two1 three1 the riddle tell to me4 ,the moon afloat is the bonny boat1 the sunset is the sea4 --,margaret ,johnson4 ,,three ,,little ,,bugs ,,in ,a ,,basket4 ,three little bugs in a basket1 ,and hardly room for two2 ,and one was yellow1 and one was black1 ,and one like me or you2 ,the space was small1 no doubt1 for all1 ,so what should the three bugs do8 ,three little bugs in a basket1 ,and hardly crumbs for two2 ,and all were selfish in their hearts1 ,the same as ,i or you4 ,so the strong one said1 ,we will eat the bread1 ,and that's what we will do6 ,three little bugs in a basket1 ,and the beds but two could hold2 ,and so they fell to quarreling-- ,the white1 the black1 and the gold-- ,and two of the bugs got under the rugs1 ,and one was out in the cold4 ,he that was left in the basket1 ,without a crumb to chew1 ,or a thread to wrap himself withal1 ,when the wind across him blew1 ,pulled one of the rugs from one of the bugs1 ,and so the quarrel grew4 ,so there was war in the basket2 ,ah6 pity 'tis1 'tis true6 ,but he that was frozen and starved1 at last ,a strength from his weakness drew1 ,and pulled the rugs from both the bugs1 ,and killed and ate them1 too6 ,now when bugs live in a basket1 ,though more than it well can hold1 ,it seems to me they had better agree-- ,the black1 the white1 and the gold-- ,and share what comes of beds and crumbs1 ,and leave no bug in the cold4 --,alice ,cary4 ,,whenever ,a ,,little ,,child ,,is ,,born4 ,whenever a little child is born1 ,all night a soft wind rocks the corn1 ,one more butter-cup wakes to the morn1 ,somewhere4 ,one more rose-bud shy will unfold1 ,one more grass-blade push through the mould1 ,one more bird's song the air will hold1 ,somewhere4 --,agnes ,l4 ,carter4 ,,sweet ,,and ,,low4 ,sweet and low1 sweet and low1 ,wind of the western sea1 ,low1 low1 breathe and blow1 ,wind of the western sea6 ,over the rolling waters go1 ,come from the dying moon1 and blow1 ,blow him again to me2 ,while my little one1 while my pretty one1 sleeps4 ,sleep and rest1 sleep and rest1 ,father will come to thee soon2 ,rest1 rest1 on mother's breast1 ,father will come to thee soon2 ,father will come to his babe in the nest1 ,silver sails all out of the west1 ,under the silver moon2 ,sleep1 my little one1 sleep1 my pretty one1 sleep4 --,alfred ,tennyson4 ,,the ,,ferry ,,for ,,shadowtown4 ,sway to and fro in the twilight gray2 ,this is the ferry for ,shadowtown2 ,it always sails at the end of the day1 ,just as the darkness closes down4 ,rest little head1 on my shoulder1 so2 ,a sleepy kiss is the only fare2 ,drifting away from the world1 we go1 ,baby and ,i in the rocking-chair4 ,see where the fire-logs glow and spark1 ,glitter the lights of the shadowland1 ,the raining drops on the window1 hark6 ,are ripples lapping upon its strand4 ,there1 where the mirror is glancing dim1 ,a lake lies shimmering1 cool and still4 ,blossoms are waving above its brim1 ,those over there on the window-sill4 ,rock slow1 more slow in the dusky light1 ,silently lower the anchor down3 ,dear little passenger1 say ,good-night4 ,we've reached the harbor of ,shadowtown4 --,anon4 ,,my ,,shadow4 ,i have a little shadow that goes in and out with me1 ,and what can be the use of him is more than ,i can see4 ,he is very1 very like me from the heels up to the head2 ,and ,i see him jump before me when ,i jump into my bed4 ,the funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow-- ,not at all like proper children1 which is always very slow2 ,for he sometimes shoots up taller like an ,india-rubber ball1 ,and he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all4 ,he hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play1 ,and can only make a fool of me in every sort of way4 ,he stays so close beside me1 he's a coward1 you can see2 ,i'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me6 ,one morning1 very early1 before the sun was up1 ,i rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup2 ,but my lazy little shadow1 like an arrant sleepy-head1 ,had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed4 --,robert ,louis ,stevenson4 ,,quite ,,like ,a ,,stocking4 ,just as morn was fading amid her misty rings1 ,and every stocking was stuffed with childhood's precious things1 ,old ,kris ,kringle looked round and saw on the elm tree bough ,high hung1 an oriole's nest1 lonely and empty now4 ,quite like a stocking1 he laughed1 hung up there in the tree1 ,i didn't suppose the birds expected a visit from me4 ,then old ,kris ,kringle who loves a joke as well as the best1 ,dropped a handful of snowflakes into the oriole's empty nest4 --,anon4 ,,the ,,owl ,,and ,,the ,,pussy-,,cat4 ,the ,owl and the ,pussy-,cat went to sea ,in a beautiful pea-green boat2 ,they took some honey1 and plenty of money ,wrapped up in a five-pound note4 ,the ,owl looked up to the moon above1 ,and sang to a small guitar1 ,o lovely ,pussy6 ,o ,pussy1 my love6 ,what a beautiful ,pussy you are-- ,you are1 ,what a beautiful ,pussy you are6 ,pussy said to the owl1 ,you elegant fowl6 ,how wonderfully sweet you sing6 ,oh1 let us be married--too long we have tarried-- ,but what shall we do for a ring8 ,they sailed away for a year and a day ,to the land where the ,bong-tree grows1 ,and there in a wood1 a piggy-wig stood ,with a ring in the end of his nose-- ,his nose1 ,with a ring in the end of his nose4 ,dear ,pig1 are you willing to sell for one shilling ,your ring8 ,said the piggy1 ,i will4 ,so they took it away1 and were married next day ,by the turkey who lives on the hill4 ,they dined upon mince and slices of quince1 ,which they ate with a runcible spoon1 ,and hand in hand on the edge of the sand ,they danced by the light of the moon-- ,the moon1 ,they danced by the light of the moon4 --,edward ,lear4 ,,forget-,,me-,,not4 ,when to the flowers so beautiful the ,father gave a name ,back came a little blue-eyed one1 all timidly it came2 ,and1 standing at the ,father's feet and gazing in ,his face ,it said1 in low and trembling tones and with a modest grace1 ,dear ,god1 the name ,thou gavest me1 alas1 ,i have forgot4 ,the ,father kindly looked ,him down and said1 ,forget-me-not4 --,anon4 ,,who ,,stole ,,the ,,bird',s ,,nest4 ,to-whit6 ,to-whit6 ,to-whee6 ,will you listen to me8 ,who stole four eggs ,i laid1 ,and the nice nest ,i made8 ,not ,i1 said the cow1 moo-oo6 ,such a thing ,i'd never do4 ,i gave you a wisp of hay1 ,but ,i did not take your nest away3 ,not ,i1 said the cow1 moo-oo6 ,such a thing ,i'd never do4 ,bob-o-link6 ,bob-o-link6 ,now1 what do you think8 ,who stole a nest away ,from the plum tree to-day8 ,not ,i1 said the dog1 bow-wow6 ,i wouldn't be so mean1 ,i vow4 ,i gave some hairs the nest to make1 ,but the nest ,i did not take4 ,not ,i1 said the dog1 bow-wow6 ,i wouldn't be so mean1 ,i vow4 ,coo-oo6 ,coo-coo6 ,coo-coo6 ,let me speak a word or two3 ,who stole that pretty nest1 ,from little ,yellow-breast8 ,not ,i1 said the sheep2 oh1 no1 ,i would not treat a poor bird so2 ,i gave wool the nest to line1 ,but the nest was none of mine4 ,baa6 ,baa6 said the sheep2 oh no2 ,i wouldn't treat a poor bird so4 ,caw6 ,caw6 cried the crow1 ,i should like to know ,what thief took away ,a bird's nest to-day4 ,cluck6 ,cluck6 said the hen1 ,don't ask me again2 ,why1 ,i haven't a chick ,would do such a trick4 ,we all gave her a feather1 ,and she wove them together4 ,i'd scorn to intrude ,on her and her brood4 ,cluck6 ,cluck6 said the hen1 ,don't ask me again4 ,chirr-a-whirr6 ,chirr-a-whirr6 ,all the birds make a stir4 ,let us find out his name1 ,and all cry1 ',for shame6' ,i would not rob a bird6 ,said little ,mary ,green1 ,i think ,i never heard ,of anything so mean6 ,it's very cruel1 too1 ,said little ,alice ,neal1 ,i wonder if he knew ,how sad the bird would feel4 ,a little boy hung down his head1 ,and went and hid behind the bed3 ,for he stole that pretty nest ,from little ,yellow-,breast2 ,and he felt so full of shame ,he did not like to tell his name4 --,anon4 ,,two ,,little ,,hands4 ,two little hands so soft and white1 ,this is the left--this is the right4 ,five little fingers stand on each1 ,so ,i can hold a plum or a peach4 ,but if ,i should grow as old as you ,lots of little things these hands can do4 --,anon4 ,,the ,,dandelion4 ,o dandelion yellow as gold1 ,what do you do all day8 ,i just wait here in the tall green grass ,till the children come to play4 ,o dandelion yellow as gold1 ,what do you do all night8 ,i wait and wait till the cool dews fall ,and my hair grows long and white4 ,and what do you do when your hair is white ,and the children come to play8 ,they take me up in their dimpled hands ,and blow my hair away4 --,anon4 ,a ,,million ,,little ,,diamonds4 ,a million little diamonds ,twinkled on the trees2 ,and all the little maidens said1 ,a jewel1 if you please6 ,but while they held their hands outstretched ,to catch the diamonds gay1 ,a million little sunbeams came ,and stole them all away4 --,m4 ,t4 ,butts4 ,,daisy ,,nurses4 ,the daisies white are nursery maids with frills upon their caps2 ,and daisy buds are little babes they tend upon their laps4 ,sing ,heigh-ho6 while the winds sweep low1 ,both nurses and babies are nodding ,,just ,,so4 ,the daisy babies never cry1 the nurses never scold2 ,they never crush the dainty frills about their cheeks of gold2 ,but pure and white1 in gay sunlight ,they're nid-nodding--pretty sight4 ,the daisies love the golden sun1 upon the clear blue sky1 ,he gazes kindly down on them and winks his jolly eye2 ,while soft and low1 all in a row1 ,both nurses and babies are nodding ,,just ,,so4 --,anon4 ,,dandelions4 ,there surely is a gold mine somewhere underneath the grass1 ,for dandelions are popping out in every place you pass4 ,but if you want to gather some you'd better not delay1 ,for the gold will turn to silver soon and all will blow away4 --,anon4 ,,at ,,little ,,virgil',s ,,window4 ,there are three green eggs in a small brown pocket1 ,and the breeze will swing and the gale will rock it1 ,till three little birds on the thin edge teeter1 ,and our ,god be glad and our world be sweeter4 --,edwin ,markham4 ,,memory ,,gems4 ,do thy duty1 that is best1 ,leave unto the ,lord the rest4 ,whene'er a task is set for you1 ,don't idly sit and view it-- ,nor be content to wish it done2 ,begin at once and do it4 ,beautiful hands are those that do ,work that is earnest1 brave and true1 ,moment by moment1 the long day through4 --,sel4 ,,second ,,grade ,,seven ,,times ,,one4 ,there's no dew left on the daisies and clover1 ,there's no rain left in heaven2 ,i've said my seven times over and over1 ,seven times one are seven4 ,i am old1 so old ,i can write a letter2 ,my birthday lessons are done2 ,the lambs play always1 they know no better-- ,they are only one times one4 ,o moon6 in the night ,i have seen you sailing ,and shining so round and low2 ,you were bright1 ah bright6 but your light is failing1-- ,you are nothing now but a bow4 ,you moon1 have you done something wrong in heaven1 ,that ,god has hidden your face8 ,i hope1 if you have1 you will soon be forgiven1 ,and shine again in your place4 ,o velvet bee1 you're a dusty fellow2 ,you've powdered your legs with gold6 ,o brave marshmary buds1 rich and yellow1 ,give me your money to hold6 ,and show me your nest with the young ones in it1-- ,i will not steal it away2 ,i am old6 you may trust me1 linnet1 linnet1-- ,i am seven times one to-day6 --,jean ,ingelow4 ,,christmas ,,eve4 ,god bless the little stockings all over the land to-night ,hung in the choicest corners1 in the glory of crimson light4 ,the tiny scarlet stockings1 with a hole in the heel and toe1 ,worn by the wonderful journeys that the darlings have to go4 ,and ,heaven pity the children1 wherever their homes may be1 ,who wake at the first gray dawning1 an empty stocking to see4 --,anon4 ,,morning ,,song4 ,what does little birdie say ,in her nest at peep of day8 ,let me fly1 says little birdie1 ,mother1 let me fly away4 ,birdie1 rest a little longer1 ,till the little wings are stronger4 ,so she rests a little longer1 ,then she flies away4 ,what does little baby say1 ,in her bed at peep of day8 ,baby says1 like little birdie1 ,let me rise and fly away4 ,baby1 sleep a little longer1 ,till the little limbs are stronger4 ,if she sleeps a little longer1 ,baby1 too1 shall fly away4 --,alfred ,tennyson4 ,,suppose1 ,,my ,,little ,,lady4 ,suppose1 my little lady1 ,your doll should break her head2 ,could you make it whole by crying ,till your eyes and nose are red8 ,and wouldn't it be pleasanter ,to treat it as a joke1 ,and say you're glad 'twas ,dolly's1 ,and not your head1 that broke8 ,suppose you're dressed for walking1 ,and the rain comes pouring down2 ,will it clear off any sooner ,because you scold and frown8 ,and wouldn't it be nicer ,for you to smile than pout1 ,and so make sunshine in the house ,when there is none without8 ,suppose your task1 my little man1 ,is very hard to get2 ,will it make it any easier ,for you to sit and fret8 ,and wouldn't it be wiser1 ,than waiting like a dunce1 ,to go to work in earnest1 ,and learn the thing at once8 --,phoebe ,cory4 ,,the ,,day',s ,,eye4 ,what does the daisy see ,in the breezy meadows tossing8 ,it sees the wide blue fields o'er head ,and the little cloud flocks crossing4 ,what does the daisy see ,round the sunny meadows glancing8 ,it sees the butterflies' chase ,and the filmy gnats at their dancing4 ,what does the daisy see ,down in the grassy thickets8 ,the grasshoppers green and brown1 ,and the shining1 coal-black crickets4 ,it sees the bobolink's nest1 ,that no one else can discover1 ,and the brooding mother-bird ,with the floating grass above her4 --,anon4 ,,the ,,night ,,wind4 ,have you ever heard the wind go ,yoooooo8 ',tis a pitiful sound to hear2 ,it seems to chill you through and through ,with a strange and speechless fear4 ',tis the voice of the wind that broods outside ,when folks should be asleep1 ,and many and many's the time ,i've cried ,to the darkness brooding far and wide ,over the land and the deep3 ,whom do you want1 ,o lonely night1 ,that you wail the long hours through8 ,and the night would say in its ghostly way3 ,yoooooo6 ,yoooooooooo6 ,yoooooooooo6 ,my mother told me long ago ,when ,i was a little lad ,that when the night went wailing so1 ,somebody had been bad2 ,and then when ,i was snug in bed1 ,whither ,i had been sent1 ,with the blankets pulled up round my head1 ,i'd think of what my mother said1 ,and wonder what boy she meant4 ,and1 ,who's been bad to-day8 ,i'd ask ,of the wind that hoarsely blew1 ,and the voice would say in its meaningful way3 ,yoooooo6 ,yoooooooooo6 ,yoooooooooo6 ,that this was true1 ,i must allow-- ,you'll not believe it though1 ,yes1 though ,i'm quite a model now1 ,i was not always so4 ,and if you doubt what things ,i say1 ,suppose you make the test2 ,suppose that when you've been bad some day1 ,and up to bed you're sent away ,from mother and the rest-- ,suppose you ask1 ,who has been bad8 ,and then you'll hear what's true2 ,for the wind will moan in its ruefulest tone3 ,yoooooo6 ,yoooooooooo6 ,yoooooooooo6 --,eugene ,field4 ,,the ,,blue ,,bird',s ,,song4 ,little white snowdrop1 ,i pray you arise3 ,bright yellow crocus1 come1 open your eyes3 ,sweet little violets hid from the cold1 ,put on your mantles of purple and gold4 ,daffodils1 daffodils1 say1 do you hear8 ,summer is coming and springtime is here4 --,anon4 ,,suppose4 ,suppose the little cowslip ,should hang its golden cup1 ,and say1 ,i'm such a tiny flower1 ,i'd better not grow up2 ,how many a weary traveler ,would miss its fragrant smell1 ,and many a little child would grieve ,to lose it from the dell4 ,suppose the little breezes1 ,upon a summer's day1 ,should think themselves too small ,to cool the traveler on his way2 ,who would not miss the smallest ,and softest ones that blow1 ,and think they made a great mistake1 ,if they were talking so8 ,suppose the little dewdrop ,upon the grass should say1 ,what can a little dewdrop do8 ,i'd better roll away4 ,the blade on which it rested1 ,before the day was done1 ,without a drop to moisten it1 ,would wither in the sun4 ,how many deeds of kindness ,a little child can do1 ,although it has but little strength1 ,and little wisdom1 too6 ,it wants a loving spirit1 ,much more than strength1 to prove ,how many things a child may do ,for others by its love4 --,anon4 ,,autumn ,,leaves4 ,come1 little leaves1 said the wind one day2 ,come over the meadows with me1 and play1 ,put on your dresses of red and gold1 ,summer is gone and the days grow cold4 ,soon the leaves heard the wind's loud call1 ,down they fell fluttering1 one and all4 ,over the brown fields they danced and flew1 ,singing the soft little songs they knew4 ,dancing and flying1 the little leaves went2 ,winter had called them1 and they were content4 ,soon fast asleep in their earthy beds1 ,the snow laid a white blanket over their heads4 --,anon4 ,,if ,i ,,were ,a ,,sunbeam4 ,if ,i were a sunbeam1 ,i know what ,i'd do3 ,i would seek white lilies ,rainy woodlands through3 ,i would steal among them1 ,softest light ,i'd shed1 ,until every lily ,raised its drooping head4 ,if ,i were a sunbeam1 ,i know where ,i'd go3 ,into lowliest hovels1 ,dark with want and woe3 ,till sad hearts looked upward1 ,i would shine and shine2 ,then they'd think of heaven1 ,their sweet home and mine4 ,art thou not a sunbeam1 ,child whose life is glad ,with an inner radiance ,sunshine never had8 ,oh1 as ,god has blessed thee1 ,scatter rays divine6 ,for there is no sunbeam ,but must die1 or shine4 --,lucy ,larcom4 ,,meadow ,,talk4 ,a bumble bee1 yellow as gold ,sat perched on a red-clover top1 ,when a grasshopper1 wiry and old1 ,came along with a skip and a hop4 ,good morrow cried he1 ,mr4 ,bumble ,bee1 ,you seem to have come to stop4 ,we people that work1 said the bee with a jerk1 ,find a benefit sometimes in stopping1 ,only insects like you1 who have nothing to do ,can keep perpetually hopping4 ,the grasshopper paused on his way ,and thoughtfully hunched up his knees3 ,why trouble this sunshiny day1 ,quoth he1 with reflections like these8 ,i follow the trade for which ,i was made ,we all can't be wise bumble-bees2 ,there's a time to be sad and a time to be glad1 ,a time for both working and stopping1 ,for men to make money1 for you to make honey1 ,and for me to keep constantly hopping4 --,caroline ,leslie4 ,,the ,,old ,,love4 ,i once had a sweet little doll1 dears1 ,the prettiest doll in the world2 ,her cheeks were so red and so white1 dears1 ,and her hair was so charmingly curled3 ,but ,i lost my poor little doll1 dears1 ,as ,i played on the heath one day1 ,and ,i cried for her more than a week1 dears1 ,and ,i never could find where she lay4 ,i found my poor little doll1 dears1 ,as ,i played on the heath one day2 ,folks say she is terribly changed1 dears1 ,for her paint is all washed away2 ,and her arms trodden off by the cows1 dears1 ,and her hair not the least bit curled3 ,yet for old time's sake1 she is still to me ,the prettiest doll in the world4 --,charles ,kingsley4 ,,bed ,,in ,,summer4 ,in winter ,i get up at night ,and dress by yellow candle-light4 ,in summer1 quite the other way1 ,i have to go to bed by day4 ,i have to go to bed and see ,the birds still hopping on the tree1 ,or hear the grown-up people's feet ,still going past me in the street4 ,and does it not seem hard to you1 ,when all the sky is clear and blue1 ,and ,i should like so much to play1 ,to have to go to bed by day8 --,robert ,louis ,stevenson4 ,,three ,,companions4 ,we go on our walk together-- ,baby and dog and ,i-- ,three little merry companions1 ',neath any sort of sky3 ,blue as our baby's eyes are1 ,gray like our old dog's tail2 ,be it windy or cloudy or stormy1 ,our courage will never fail4 ,baby's a little lady2 ,dog is a gentleman brave2 ,if he had two legs as you have1 ,he'd kneel to her like a slave2 ,as it is1 he loves and protects her1 ,as dog and gentleman can4 ,i'd rather be a kind doggie1 ,i think1 than a cruel man4 --,dinah ,mulock-,craik4 ,,the ,,wind4 ,i saw you toss the kites on high1 ,and blow the birds about the sky2 ,and all around ,i heard you pass ,like ladies' skirts across the grass-- ,o wind1 a-blowing all day long1 ,o wind1 that sings so loud a song6 ,i saw the different things you did1 ,but always you yourself you hid4 ,i felt you push1 ,i heard you call1 ,i could not see yourself at all-- ,o wind1 a-blowing all day long1 ,o wind1 that sings so loud a song6 ,o you1 that are so strong and cold1 ,o blower1 are you young or old8 ,are you a beast of field and tree1 ,or just a stronger child than me8 ,o wind1 a-blowing all day long1 ,o wind1 that sings so loud a song6 --,robert ,louis ,stevenson4 ,hearts like doors can open with ease ,to very1 very little keys2 ,and ne'er forget that they are these3 ,i thank you1 sir1 and ,if you please4 --,sel4 ,,the ,,minuet4#a ,grandma told me all about it1 ,told me so ,i couldn't doubt it1 ,how she danced1 my grandma danced2 long ago-- ,how she held her pretty head1 ,how her dainty skirt she spread1 ,how she slowly leaned and rose--long ago4 ,grandma's hair was bright and sunny1 ,dimpled cheeks1 too1 oh1 how funny6 ,really quite a pretty girl--long ago4 ,bless her6 why1 she wears a cap1 ,grandma does and takes a nap ,every single day3 and yet ,grandma danced the minuet--long ago4 ,modern ways are quite alarming1 ,grandma says1 but boys were charming 7,girls and boys she means of course7 long ago4 ,brave but modest1 grandly shy2 ,she would like to have us try ,just to feel like those who met ,in the graceful minuet--long ago4 --,mary ,mapes ,dodge4 #a ,from ,along the ,way1 copyright #ahgi by ,mary ,mapes ,dodge1 and published by ,chas4 ,scribner's ,sons4 ,,wynken1 ,,blynken ,,and ,,nod4#b ,wynken1 ,blynken and ,nod one night ,sailed off in a wooden shoe1 ,sailed on a river of crystal light ,into a sea of dew4 ,where are you going8 ,what do you wish8 ,the old ,moon asked the three4 ,we come to fish for the herring fish ,that live in the beautiful sea1 ,nets of silver and gold have we1 ,said ,wynken1 ,blynken and ,nod4 ,the old ,moon laughed and sang a song ,as they rocked in the wooden shoe1 ,and the wind that sped them all night long ,ruffled the waves of dew4 ,the little stars were the herring fish ,that lived in that beautiful sea1-- ,now cast your nets whenever you wish1 ,never afeard are we6 ,so cried the stars to the fishermen three-- ,wynken1 ,blynken and ,nod4 ,all night long their nets they threw ,to the stars in the twinkling foam4 ,then down from the skies came the wooden shoe ,bringing the fishermen home4 ',twas all so pretty a sail it seemed ,as if it could not be1 ,and some folks thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed ,of sailing that beautiful sea4 ,but ,i can name you the fishermen three-- ,wynken1 ,blynken and ,nod4 ,wynken and ,blynken are two little eyes ,and ,nod is a little head1 ,and the wooden shoe that sailed the skies ,is a wee one's trundle bed4 ,so shut your eyes while mother sings ,of wonderful sights that be1 ,and you shall see the beautiful things ,as you rock on the misty sea1-- ,where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three-- ,wynken1 ,blynken and ,nod4 --,eugene ,field4 #b ,from ,love ,songs of ,childhood4 ,copyright1 #ahid1 by ,eugene ,field4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers1 ,chas4 ,scribner's ,sons4 ,,pretty ,,is ,,that ,,pretty ,,does4 ,the spider wears a plain brown dress1 ,and she is a steady spinner2 ,to see her1 quiet as a mouse1 ,going about her silver house1 ,you would never1 never1 never guess ,the way she gets her dinner4 ,she looks as if no thought of ill ,in all her life had stirred her2 ,but while she moves with careful tread1 ,and while she spins her silken thread1 ,she is planning1 planning1 planning still ,the way to do some murder4 ,my child1 who reads this simple lay1 ,with eyes down-dropt and tender1 ,remember the old proverb says ,that pretty is which pretty does1 ,and that worth does not go nor stay ,for poverty nor splendor4 ',tis not the house1 and not the dress1 ,that makes the saint or sinner4 ,to see the spider sit and spin1 ,shut with her walls of silver in1 ,you would never1 never1 never guess ,the way she gets her dinner4 --,alice ,cary4 ,,lullaby4#c ,over the cradle the mother hung1 ,softly crooning a slumber song3 ,and these were the simple words she sung ,all the evening long4 ,cheek or chin1 or knuckle or knee ,where shall the baby's dimple be8 ,where shall the angel's finger rest ,when he comes down to the baby's nest8 ,where shall the angel's touch remain ,when he awakens my babe again8 ,still as she bent and sang so low1 ,a murmur into her music broke3 ,and she paused to hear1 for she could but know ,the baby's angel spoke4 ,cheek or chin1 or knuckle or knee1 ,where shall the baby's dimple be8 ,where shall my finger fall and rest ,when ,i come down to the baby's nest8 ,where shall my finger touch remain ,when ,i awaken your babe again8 ,silent the mother sat and dwelt ,long in the sweet delay of choice1 ,and then by her baby's side she knelt1 ,and sang with a pleasant voice3 ,not on the limb1 ,o angel dear6 ,for the charm with its youth will disappear2 ,not on the cheek shall the dimple be1 ,for the harboring smile will fade and flee2 ,but touch thou the chin with an impress deep1 ,and my baby the angel's seal shall keep4 --,j4 ,g4 ,holland4 #c ,from ,the ,complete ,poetical ,writings of ,j4 ,g4 ,holland1 copyright #ahgi-ahha by ,charles ,scribner's ,sons4 ,,third ,,grade ,,discontent4 ,down in a field one day in ,june1 the flowers all bloomed together1 ,save one who tried to hide herself1 and drooped that pleasant weather4 ,a robin who had flown too high1 and felt a little lazy1 ,was resting near this buttercup who wished she was a daisy4 ,for daisies grow so slim and tall6 ,she always had a passion ,for wearing frills about her neck in just the daisies' fashion4 ,and buttercups must always be the same old tiresome color2 ,while daisies dress in gold and white1 although their gold is duller4 ,dear ,robin1 said the sad young flower1 ,perhaps you'd not mind trying ,to find a nice white frill for me1 some day when you are flying4 ,you silly thing6 the ,robin said1 ,i think you must be crazy2 ,i'd rather be my honest self1 than any made-up daisy4 ,you're nicer in your own bright gown2 the little children love you4 ,be the best buttercup you can1 and think no flower above you4 ,though swallows leave me out of sight1 we'd better keep our places3 ,perhaps the world would all go wrong with one too many daisies4 ,look bravely up into the sky and be content with knowing ,that ,god wished for a buttercup1 just here where you are growing4 --,sarah ,orne ,jewett4 ,,our ,,flag4 ,there are many flags in many lands1 ,there are flags of every hue1 ,but there is no flag in any land ,like our own ,red1 ,white and ,blue4 ,i know where the prettiest colors are1 ,i'm sure1 if ,i only knew ,how to get them here1 ,i could make a flag ,of glorious ,red1 ,white and ,blue4 ,i would cut a piece from the evening sky ,where the stars were shining through1 ,and use it just as it was on high ,for my stars and field of ,blue4 ,then ,i want a part of a fleecy cloud ,and some red from a rainbow bright1 ,and ,i'd put them together1 side by side ,for my stripes of ,red and ,white4 ,then ,hurrah for the ,flag6 our country's flag1 ,its stripes and white stars too2 ,there is no flag in any land ,like our own ,red1 ,white and ,blue4 --,anon4 ,,song ,,from ,,pippa ,,passes4 ,the year's at the spring1 ,and day's at the morn2 ,morning's at seven2 ,the hill-side's dew-pearled2 ,the lark's on the wing2 ,the snail's on the thorn3 ,god's in his heaven-- ,all's right with the world4 --,robert ,browning4 ,,little ,,brown ,,hands4 ,they drive home the cows from the pasture1 ,up through the long shady lane1 ,where the quail whistles loud in the wheat-fields1 ,that are yellow with ripening grain4 ,they find1 in the thick1 waving grasses1 ,where the scarlet-lipped strawberry grows4 ,they gather the earliest snowdrops1 ,and the first crimson buds of the rose4 ,they toss the new hay in the meadow2 ,they gather the elder-bloom white2 ,they find where the dusky grapes purple ,in the soft-tinted ,october light4 ,they know where the apples hang ripest1 ,and are sweeter than ,italy's wines2 ,they know where the fruit hangs the thickest ,on the long1 thorny blackberry-vines4 ,they gather the delicate sea-weeds1 ,and build tiny castles of sand2 ,they pick up the beautiful sea-shells-- ,fairy barks that have drifted to land4 ,they wave from the tall1 rocking tree-tops ,where the oriole's hammock-nest swings2 ,and at night-time are folded in slumber ,by a song that a fond mother sings4 ,those who toil bravely are strongest2 ,the humble and poor become great2 ,and so from these brown-handed children ,shall grow mighty rulers of state4 ,the pen of the author and statesman-- ,the noble and wise of the land-- ,the sword1 and the chisel1 and palette1 ,shall be held in the little brown hand4 --,m4 ,h4 ,krout4 ,,winter ,,and ,,summer4 ,oh1 ,i wish the ,winter would go1 ,and ,i wish the ,summer would come1 ,then the big brown farmers will hoe1 ,and the little brown bee will hum4 ,then the robin his fife will trill1 ,and the wood-piper beat his drum2 ,and out of their tents on the hill ,the little green troops will come4 ,then around and over the trees ,with a flutter and flirt we'll go1 ,a rollicking1 frolicking breeze1 ,and away with a frisk ho6 ho6 --,anon4 ,,the ,,brook4 ,i come from haunts of coot and hern1 ,i make a sudden sally1 ,and sparkle out among the fern1 ,to bicker down the valley4 ,by thirty hills ,i hurry down1 ,or slip between the ridges1 ,by twenty thorps1 a little town1 ,and half a hundred bridges4 ,till last by ,philip's farm ,i flow ,to join the brimming river2 ,for men may come1 and men may go1 ,but ,i go on forever4 ,i chatter over stony ways1 ,in little sharps and trebles2 ,i bubble into eddying bays2 ,i babble on the pebbles4 ,with many a curve my bank ,i fret ,by many a field and fallow1 ,and many a fairy foreland set ,with willow-weed and mallow4 ,i chatter1 chatter as ,i flow ,to join the brimming river1 ,for men may come1 and men may go1 ,but ,i go on forever4 ,i wind about1 and in and out1 ,with here a blossom sailing1 ,and here and there a lusty trout1 ,and here and there a grayling1 ,and here and there a foamy flake ,upon me as ,i travel1 ,with many a silvery waterbreak ,above the golden gravel1 ,and draw them all along and flow ,to join the brimming river1 ,for men may come1 and men may go1 ,but ,i go on forever4 ,i steal by lawns and grassy plots1 ,i slide by hazel covers1 ,i move the sweet forget-me-nots ,that grow for happy lovers4 ,i slip1 ,i slide1 ,i gloom1 ,i glance1 ,among my skimming swallows2 ,i make the netted sunbeam dance ,against my sandy shallows4 ,i murmur under moon and stars ,in brambly wildernesses2 ,i linger by my shingly bars2 ,i loiter round my cresses2 ,and out again ,i curve and flow ,to join the brimming river1 ,for men may come and men may go ,but ,i go on forever4 --,tennyson4 ,,the ,,wonderful ,,world4 ,great1 wide1 beautiful1 wonderful ,world1 ,with the wonderful water around you curled1 ,and the wonderful grass upon your breast-- ,world1 you are beautifully dressed4 ,the wonderful air is over me1 ,and the wonderful wind is shaking the tree1 ,it walks on the water1 and whirls the mills1 ,and talks to itself on the tops of the hills4 ,you1 friendly ,earth1 how far do you go1 ,with the wheatfields that nod and the rivers that flow1 ,with cities and gardens1 and cliffs1 and isles1 ,and people upon you for thousands of miles8 ,ah1 you are so great1 and ,i am so small1 ,i tremble to think of you1 ,world1 at all2 ,and yet1 when ,i said my prayers1 to-day1 ,a whisper inside me seemed to say1 ,you are more than the earth1 though you are such a dot3 ,you can love and think1 and the ,earth can not6 --,w4 ,b4 ,rands4 ,,don',t ,,give ,,up4 ,if you've tried and have not won1 ,never stop for crying2 ,all that's great and good is done ,just by patient trying4 ,though young birds1 in flying1 fall1 ,still their wings grow stronger2 ,and the next time they can keep ,up a little longer4 ,though the sturdy oak has known ,many a blast that bowed her1 ,she has risen again1 and grown ,loftier and prouder4 ,if by easy work you beat1 ,who the more will prize you8 ,gaining victory from defeat1 ,that's the test that tries you6 --,phoebe ,cary4 ,,we ,,are ,,seven4 --,a simple child1 ,that lightly draws its breath1 ,and feels its life in every limb1 ,what should it know of death8 ,i met a little cottage girl3 ,she was eight years old1 she said2 ,her hair was thick with many a curl ,that clustered round her head4 ,she had a rustic1 woodland air1 ,and she was wildly clad3 ,her eyes were fair1 and very fair-- ,her beauty made me glad4 ,sisters and brothers1 little ,maid1 ,how many may you be8 ,how many8 ,seven in all1 she said1 ,and wondering looked at me4 ,and where are they8 ,i pray you tell4 ,she answered1 ,seven are we2 ,and two of us at ,conway dwell1 ,and two are gone to sea4 ,two of us in the churchyard lie1 ,my sister and my brother2 ,and in the churchyard cottage1 ,i ,dwell near them with my mother4 ,you say that two at ,conway dwell1 ,and two are gone to sea1 ,yet ye are seven6 ,i pray you tell1 ,sweet ,maid1 how this may be4 ,then did the little maid reply1 ,seven boys and girls are we2 ,two of us in the churchyard lie1 ,beneath the churchyard tree4 ,you run about1 my little ,maid1 ,your limbs they are alive2 ,if two are in the churchyard laid ,then ye are only five4 ,their graves are green1 they may be seen1 ,the little ,maid replied1 ,twelve steps or more from my mother's door1 ,and they are side by side4 ,my stockings there ,i often knit1 ,my kerchief there ,i hem2 ,and there upon the ground ,i sit ,and sing a song to them4 ,and often after sunset1 sir1 ,when it is light and fair1 ,i take my little porringer1 ,and eat my supper there4 ,the first that died was sister ,jane2 ,in bed she moaning lay1 ,till ,god released her of her pain2 ,and then she went away4 ,so in the churchyard she was laid2 ,and when the grass was dry1 ,together round her grave we played1 ,my brother ,john and ,i4 ,and when the ground was white with snow ,and ,i could run and slide1 ,my brother ,john was forced to go1 ,and he lies by her side4 ,how many are you1 then1 said ,i1 ,if they two are in heaven8 ,quick was the little ,maid's reply1 ,o master6 we are seven4 ,but they are dead2 those two are dead6 ,their spirits are in heaven6 ',twas throwing words away3 for still ,the little ,maid would have her will1 ,and said1 ,nay1 we are seven6 --,wordsworth4 ,,the ,,land ,,of ,,counterpane4 ,when ,i was sick and lay abed1 ,i had two pillows at my head1 ,and all my toys beside me lay ,to keep me happy all the day4 ,and sometimes for an hour or so ,i watched my leaden soldiers go1 ,with different uniforms and drills1 ,among the bedclothes1 through the hills2 ,and sometimes sent my ships in fleets ,all up and down among the sheets2 ,or brought my trees and houses out1 ,and planted cities all about4 ,i was the giant great and still1 ,that sits upon the pillow-hill1 ,and sees before him1 dale and plain1 ,the pleasant land of counterpane4 --,robert ,louis ,stevenson4 ,,the ,,brown ,,thrush4 ,there's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree1 ,he's singing to me6 ,he's singing to me6 ,and what does he say1 little girl1 little boy8 ,oh1 the world's running over with joy6 ,don't you hear8 ,don't you see8 ,hush6 ,look6 ,in my tree1 ,i'm as happy as happy can be6 ,and the brown thrush keeps singing1 ,a nest do you see1 ,and five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree8 ,don't meddle6 ,don't touch6 little girl1 little boy1 ,or the world will lose some of its joy6 ,now ,i'm glad6 ,now ,i'm free6 ,and ,i always shall be1 ,if you never bring sorrow to me4 ,so the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree1 ,to you and to me1 to you and to me3 ,and he sings all the day1 little girl1 little boy1 ,oh1 the world's running over with joy6 ,but long it won't be1 ,don't you know8 don't you see8 ,unless we are as good as can be6 --,lucy ,larcom4 ,,the ,,silver ,,boat4 ,there is a boat upon a sea2 ,it never stops for you or me4 ,the sea is blue1 the boat is white2 ,it sails through winter and summer night4 ,the swarthy child in ,india land ,points to the prow with eager hand2 ,the little ,lapland babies cry ,for the silver boat a-sailing by4 ,it fears no gale1 it fears no wreck2 ,it never meets a change or check ,through weather fine or weather wild4 ,the oldest saw it when a child4 ,upon another sea below ,full many vessels come and go2 ,upon the swaying1 swinging tide ,into the distant worlds they ride4 ,and strange to tell1 the sea below1 ,where countless vessels come and go1 ,obeys the little boat on high ,through all the centuries sailing by4 --,anon4 ,,the ,,dandelion4 ,bright little dandelion1 ,downy1 yellow face1 ,peeping up among the grass ,with such gentle grace2 ,minding not the ,april wind ,blowing rude and cold2 ,brave little dandelion1 ,with a heart of gold4 ,meek little dandelion1 ,changing into curls ,at the magic touch of these ,merry boys and girls4 ,when they pinch thy dainty throat1 ,strip thy dress of green1 ,on thy soft and gentle face ,not a cloud is seen4 ,poor little dandelion1 ,now all gone to seed1 ,scattered roughly by the wind ,like a common weed4 ,thou hast lived thy little life ,smiling every day2 ,who could do a better thing ,in a better way8 --,anon4 ,,afternoon ,,in ,,february4 ,the day is ending1 ,the night is descending2 ,the marsh is frozen1 ,the river dead4 ,through clouds like ashes1 ,the red sun flashes ,on village windows ,that glimmer red4 ,the snow recommences2 ,the buried fences ,mark no longer ,the road o'er the plain2 ,while through the meadows1 ,like fearful shadows1 ,slowly passes ,a funeral train4 ,the bell is pealing1 ,and every feeling ,within me responds ,to the dismal knell4 ,shadows are trailing1 ,my heart is bewailing ,and tolling within ,like a funeral bell4 --,longfellow4 ,,nikolina4#d ,oh1 tell me1 little children1 have you seen her-- ,the tiny maid from ,norway1 ,nikolina8 ,oh1 her eyes are blue as corn-flowers 'mid the corn1 ,and her cheeks are rosy red as skies of morn4 ,oh1 buy the baby's blossoms if you meet her1 ,and stay with gentle looks and words to greet her2 ,she'll gaze at you and smile and clasp your hand1 ,but not one word of yours can understand4 ,nikolina6 ,swift she turns if any call her1 ,as she stands among the poppies1 hardly taller2 ,breaking off their flaming scarlet cups for you1 ,with spikes of slender larkspur1 brightly blue4 ,in her little garden many a flower is growing-- ,red1 gold and purple1 in the soft wind blowing2 ,but the child that stands amid the blossoms gay ,is sweeter1 quainter1 brighter1 lovelier even than they4 ,oh1 tell me1 little children1 have you seen her-- ,this baby girl from ,norway1 ,nikolina8 ,slowly she's learning ,english words to try ,and thank you if her flowers you buy4 --,celia ,thaxter4 #d ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,lost6#e ,lock the dairy door6 ,oh1 hark1 the cock is crowing proudly6 ,lock the dairy door6 and all the hens are cackling loudly4 ,chickle1 chackle1 chee6 they cry2 we haven't got the key1 they cry1 ,chickle1 chackle1 chee6 ,oh1 dear6 wherever can it be8 they cry4 ,up and down the garden walks where all the flowers are blowing1 ,out about the golden fields where tall the wheat is growing1 ,through the barn and up the road1 they cackle and they clatter2 ,cry the children1 ,hear the hens6 ,why1 what can be the matter8 ,what scraping and what scratching1 what bristling and what hustling1 ,the cock stands on the fence1 the wind his ruddy plumage rustling4 ,like a soldier grand he stands1 and like a trumpet glorious1 ,sounds his shout both far and near1 imperious and victorious4 ,but to the ,partlets down below who cannot find the key1 they hear1 ,lock the dairy door2 that's all his challenge says to them1 my dear4 ,why they had it1 how they lost it1 must remain a mystery2 ,i that tell you1 never heard the first part of the history4 ,but if you listen1 dear1 next time the cock crows proudly ,lock the dairy door6 you'll hear him tell the biddies loudly3 ,chickle1 chackle1 chee6 they cry2 we haven't got the key6 they cry2 ,chickle1 chackle1 chee6 ,oh1 dear6 wherever can it be8 they cry4 --,celia ,thaxter4 #e ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,robin ,,or ,i8#f ,robin comes with early spring1 ,dressed up in his very best2 ,very pretty is his suit-- ,brownish coat and reddish vest4 ,robin takes my cherry tree ,for his very1 very own2 ,never asking if he may-- ,there he makes his dainty home4 ,robin eats my cherries1 too1 ,in an open1 shameless way2 ,feeds his wife and babies three-- ,giving only songs for pay4 ,bolder thief than robin is ,would be hard1 indeed1 to find2 ,but he sings so sweet a tune ,that ,i really do not mind6 ,cheer up6 ,cheer up6 ,robin sings2 ,cheer up6 ,cheer up6 all day long2 ,shine or shower1 all the same1 ,cheer up6 ,cheer up6 is his song4 ,eating1 singing1 ,robin lives ,there within my cherry tree2 ,when ,i call him robber6 thief6 ,back he flings a song to me6 ,may ,i have some cherries1 please8 ,robin never thinks to say2 ,yet1 who has the heart--have you8 ,saucy ,rob to drive away8 --,sarah ,e4 ,sprague4 #f ,all rights reserved4 ,,fourth ,,grade ,,psalm ,,xxiii4 #a4 ,the ,lord is my shepherd2 ,i shall not want4 #b4 ,he maketh me to lie down in green pastures3 ,he leadeth me beside the still waters4 #c4 ,he restoreth my soul3 ,he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for ,his name's sake4 #d4 ,yea1 though ,i walk through the valley of the shadow of death1 ,i will fear no evil3 for ,thou art with me1 ,thy rod and ,thy staff they comfort me4 #e4 ,thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies2 ,thou anointest my head with oil2 my cup runneth over4 #f4 ,surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life2 and ,i will dwell in the house of the ,lord forever4 --,bible4 ,,the ,,mountain ,,and ,,the ,,squirrel4 ,the ,mountain and the ,squirrel ,had a quarrel1 ,and the former called the latter ,little ,prig4 ,bun replied3 ,you are doubtless very big2 ,but all sorts of things and weather ,must be taken in together1 ,to make up a year1 ,and a sphere2 ,and ,i think it no disgrace ,to occupy my place4 ,if ,i'm not so large as you1 ,you're not so small as ,i1 ,and not half so spry4 ,i'll not deny you make ,a very pretty squirrel track4 ,talents differ2 all is well and wisely put3 ,if ,i cannot carry forests on my back1 ,neither can you crack a nut4 --,ralph ,waldo ,emerson4 ,,abou ,,ben ,,adhem4 ,abou ,ben ,adhem 7may his tribe increase67 ,awoke one night from a deep dream of peace1 ,and saw1 within the moonlight in his room1 ,making it rich and like a lily in bloom1 ,an angel writing in a book of gold2 ,exceeding peace had made ,ben ,adhem bold1 ,and to the presence in the room he said1 ,what writest thou8 ,the vision raised its head1 ,and1 with a look made of all sweet accord1 ,answered1 ,the names of those who love the ,lord4 ,and is mine one8 said ,abou4 ,nay1 not so1 ,replied the angel4 ,abou spoke more low1 ,but cheerly still2 and said1 ,i pray thee1 then1 ,write me as one who loves his fellow-men4 ,the angel wrote1 and vanished4 ,the next night ,it came again1 with a great wakening light1 ,and showed the names whom love of ,god had blest2 ,and1 lo6 ,ben ,adhem's name led all the rest4 --,james ,henry ,leigh ,hunt4 ,,bugle ,,song4 ,the splendor falls on castle walls ,and snowy summits old in story2 ,the long light shakes across the lakes1 ,and the wild cataract leaps in glory4 ,blow1 bugle1 blow6 set the wild echoes flying2 ,blow1 bugle2 answer1 echoes--dying1 dying1 dying6 ,o hark1 ,o hear6 how thin and clear1 ,and thinner1 clearer1 farther going6 ,o sweet and far1 from cliff and scar1 ,the horns of ,elfland faintly blowing6 ,blow6 let us hear the purple glens replying2 ,blow1 bugle2 answer1 echoes--dying1 dying1 dying6 ,o love6 they die in yon rich sky3 ,they faint on hill1 or field or river2 ,our echoes roll from soul to soul1 ,and grow forever and forever4 ,blow1 bugle1 blow6 set the wild echoes flying2 ,and answer1 echoes1 answer--dying1 dying1 dying4 --,tennyson4 ,,little ,,boy ,,blue4#g ,the little toy dog is covered with dust1 ,but sturdy and stanch he stands2 ,and the little toy soldier is red with rust1 ,and his musket moulds in his hands4 ,time was when the little toy dog was new1 ,and the soldier was passing fair2 ,and that was the time when our ,little ,boy ,blue ,kissed them and put them there4 ,now1 don't you go till ,i come1 he said2 ,and don't you make any noise6 ,so toddling off to his trundle-bed ,he dreamed of the pretty toys2 ,and as he was dreaming1 an angel's song ,awakened our ,little ,boy ,blue-- ,oh1 the years are many1 the years are long1 ,but the little toy friends are true4 ,ay1 faithful to ,little ,boy ,blue they stand1 ,each in the same old place1 ,awaiting the touch of a little hand1 ,the smile of a little face4 ,and they wonder1 as waiting these long years through1 ,in the dust of that little chair1 ,what has become of our ,little ,boy ,blue ,since he kissed them and put them there4 --,eugene ,field4 #g ,from ,love ,songs of ,childhood4 ,copyright1 #ahid1 by ,eugene ,field4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers1 ,chas4 ,scribner's ,sons4 ,,pittypat ,,and ,,tippytoe4#h ,all day long they come and go-- ,pittypat and ,tippytoe2 ,footprints up and down the hall2 ,playthings scattered on the floor1 ,finger marks along the wall1 ,tell-tale smudges on the door2-- ,by these presents you shall know ,pittypat and ,tippytoe4 ,how they riot at their play2 ,and a dozen times a day ,in they troop demanding bread-- ,only buttered bread will do1 ,and that butter must be spread ,inches thick1 with sugar1 too2 ,and ,i never can say ,no1 ,pittypat and ,tippytoe4 ,sometimes there are griefs to soothe1 ,sometimes ruffled brows to smooth1 ,for 7,i much regret to say7 ,tippytoe and ,pittypat ,sometimes interrupt their play ,with an internecine spat2 ,fie1 for shame2 to quarrel so-- ,pittypat and ,tippytoe4 ,oh1 the thousand worrying things ,every day recurrent brings2 ,hands to scrub and hair to brush1 ,search for playthings gone amiss1 ,many a wee complaint to hush1 ,many a little bump to kiss2 ,life seems one vain fleeting show ,to ,pittypat and ,tippytoe4 ,and when day is at an end ,there are little duds to mend2 ,little frocks are strangely torn1 ,little shoes great holes reveal1 ,little hose but one day worn1 ,rudely yawn at toe and heel2 ,who but you could work such woe1 ,pittypat and ,tippytoe8 ,but when comes this thought to me ,some there are who childless be1 ,stealing to their little beds1 ,with a love ,i cannot speak1 ,tenderly ,i stroke their heads-- ,fondly kiss each velvet cheek4 ,god help those who do not know ,a ,pittypat and ,tippytoe4 ,on the floor and down the hall1 ,rudely smutched upon the wall1 ,there are proofs of every kind ,of the havoc they have wrought2 ,and upon my heart you'd find ,just such trade marks1 if you sought2 ,oh1 how glad ,i am 'tis so1 ,pittypat and ,tippytoe4 --,eugene ,field4 #h ,from ,love ,songs of ,childhood4 ,copyright1 #ahid1 by ,eugene ,field4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers1 ,chas4 ,scribner's ,sons4 ,,red ,,riding-,,hood4#i ,on the wide lawn the snow lay deep1 ,ridged o'er with many a drifty heap2 ,the wind that through the pine trees sung ,the naked elm-boughs tossed and swung2 ,while through the window1 frosty-starred1 ,against the sunset purple barr'd1 ,we saw the somber crow flit by1 ,the hawks gray flock along the sky1 ,the crested blue-jay flitting swift1 ,the squirrel poising on the drift1 ,erect1 alert1 his broad gray tail1 ,set to the north wind like a sail4 ,it came to pass1 our little lass1 ,with flattened face against the glass1 ,and eyes in which the tender dew ,of pity shone1 stood gazing through ,the narrow space her rosy lips ,had melted from the frost's eclipse4 ,oh1 see6 she cried1 ,the poor blue-jays6 ,what is it that the black crow says8 ,the squirrel lifts his little legs ,because he has no hands1 and begs2 ,he's asking for nuts1 ,i know2 ,may ,i not feed them on the snow8 ,half lost within her boots1 her head ,warm-sheltered in her hood of red1 ,her plaid skirt close about her drawn1 ,she floundered down the wintry lawn2 ,now struggling through the misty veil ,blown round her by the shrieking gale2 ,now sinking in a drift so low ,her scarlet hood could scarcely show ,its dash of color on the snow4 ,she dropped for bird and beast forlorn ,her little store of nuts and corn1 ,and thus her timid guests bespoke3 ,come1 squirrel1 from your hollow oak-- ,come1 black old crow2 come1 poor blue-jay1 ,before your supper's blown away6 ,don't be afraid1 we all are good6 ,and ,i'm mamma's ,red ,riding-,hood6 ,o ,thou whose care is over all1 ,who heedest even the sparrow's fall1 ,keep in the little maiden's breast ,the pity1 which is now its guest6 ,let not her cultured years make less ,the childhood charm of tenderness4 ,but let her feel as well as know1 ,nor harder with her polish grow6 ,unmoved by sentimental grief ,that wails along some printed leaf1 ,but1 prompt with kindly word and deed ,to own the claims of all who need1 ,let the grown woman's self make good ,the promise of ,red ,riding-,hood6 --,whittier4 #i ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,the ,,sandpiper ,,and ,i4#aj ,across the lonely beach we flit1 ,one little sandpiper and ,i1 ,and fast ,i gather1 bit by bit1 ,the scattered driftwood1 bleached and dry4 ,the wild waves reach their hands for it1 ,the wild wind raves1 the tide runs high1 ,as up and down the beach we flit1 ,one little sandpiper and ,i4 ,i watch him as he skims along1 ,uttering his sweet and mournful cry2 ,he starts not at my fitful song1 ,nor flash of fluttering drapery4 ,he has no thought of any wrong1 ,he scans me with a fearless eye2 ,stanch friends are we1 well-tried and strong1 ,the little sandpiper and ,i4 ,comrade1 where wilt thou be to-night1 ,when the loosed storm breaks furiously8 ,my driftwood fire will burn so bright6 ,to what warm shelter can'st thou fly8 ,i do not fear for thee1 though wroth ,the tempest rushes through the sky2 ,for are we not ,god's children1 both1 ,thou1 little sandpiper1 and ,i8 --,celia ,thaxter4 #aj ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,in ,,school ,,days4#aa ,still sits the school-house by the road1 ,a ragged beggar sleeping2 ,around it still the sumachs grow ,and blackberry vines are creeping4 ,within1 the master's desk is seen1 ,deep-scarred by raps official2 ,the warping floor1 the battered seats1 ,the jack-knife's carved initial4 ,the charcoal frescoes on the wall1 ,its door's worn sill1 betraying ,the feet that1 creeping slow to school1 ,went storming out to playing4 ,long years ago a winter's sun ,shone over it at setting2 ,lit up its western window-panes1 ,and low eaves' icy fretting4 ,it touched the tangled golden curls1 ,and brown eyes full of grieving ,of one who still her steps delayed1 ,when all the school were leaving4 ,for near her stood the little boy ,her childish favor singled2 ,his cap pulled low upon his face ,where pride and shame were mingled4 ,pushing with restless feet the snow ,to right1 to left1 he lingered-- ,as restlessly her tiny hands ,the blue-checked apron fingered4 ,he saw her lift her eyes2 he felt ,the soft hand's light caressing1 ,and heard the tremble of her voice1 ,as if a fault confessing4 ,i'm sorry that ,i spelt the word1 ,i hate to go above you1 ,because--the brown eyes lower fell-- ,because1 you see1 ,i love you4 ,still memory to a gray-haired man ,that sweet child-face is showing4 ,dear girl6 the grasses on her grave ,have forty years been growing4 ,he lives to learn in life's hard school ,how few who pass above him ,lament their triumph and his loss1 ,like her--because they love him4 --,whittier4 #aa ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,take ,,care4 ,little children1 you must seek ,rather to be good than wise1 ,for the thoughts you do not speak ,shine out in your cheeks and eyes4 ,if you think that you can be ,cross and cruel and look fair1 ,let me tell you how to see ,you are quite mistaken there4 ,go and stand before the glass1 ,and some ugly thought contrive1 ,and my word will come to pass ,just as sure as you're alive6 ,what you have and what you lack1 ,all the same as what you wear1 ,you will see reflected back2 ,so1 my little folks1 take care6 ,and not only in the glass ,will your secrets come to view2 ,all beholders1 as they pass1 ,will perceive and know them1 too4 ,goodness shows in blushes bright1 ,or in eyelids dropping down1 ,like a violet from the light2 ,badness in a sneer or frown4 ,out of sight1 my boys and girls1 ,every root of beauty starts2 ,so think less about your curls1 ,more about your minds and hearts4 ,cherish what is good1 and drive ,evil thoughts and feelings far2 ,for1 as sure as you're alive1 ,you will show for what you are4 --,alice ,cary4 ,a ,,life ,,lesson4#ab ,there6 little girl2 don't cry6 ,they have broken your doll1 ,i know2 ,and your tea-set blue1 ,and your play-house1 too1 ,are things of the long ago2 ,but childish troubles will soon pass by4 ,there6 little girl2 don't cry6 ,there6 little girl2 don't cry6 ,they have broken your slate1 ,i know2 ,and the glad wild ways ,of your school-girl days ,are things of the long ago2 ,but life and love will soon come by4 ,there6 little girl2 don't cry6 ,there6 little girl2 don't cry6 ,they have broken your heart1 ,i know2 ,and the rainbow gleams ,of your youthful dreams ,are things of the long ago2 ,but heaven holds all for which you sigh4 ,there6 little girl2 don't cry6 --,james ,whitcomb ,riley4 #ab ,from ,afterwhiles1 copyrighted #ahhg1 by ,bowen-,merrill ,co4 ,must not be reprinted without permission from the publishers4 ,,fifth ,,grade ,,the ,,village ,,blacksmith4 ,under a spreading chestnut-tree ,the village smithy stands2 ,the smith1 a mighty man is he1 ,with large and sinewy hands2 ,and the muscles of his brawny arms ,are strong as iron bands4 ,his hair is crisp1 and black1 and long2 ,his face is like the tan2 ,his brow is wet with honest sweat2 ,he earns whate'er he can1 ,and looks the whole world in the face1 ,for he owes not any man4 ,week in1 week out1 from morn to night1 ,you can hear his bellows blow2 ,you can hear him swing his heavy sledge1 ,with measured beat and slow1 ,like a sexton ringing the village bell ,when the evening sun is low4 ,and children1 coming home from school1 ,look in at the open door2 ,they love to see the flaming forge1 ,and hear the bellows roar1 ,and catch the burning sparks that fly ,like chaff from a threshing-floor4 ,he goes on ,sunday to the church1 ,and sits among his boys2 ,he hears the parson pray and preach1 ,he hears his daughter's voice ,singing in the village choir1 ,and it makes his heart rejoice4 ,it sounds to him like her mother's voice1 ,singing in ,paradise6 ,he needs must think of her once more-- ,how in the grave she lies2 ,and1 with his hard1 rough hand1 he wipes ,a tear out of his eyes4 ,toiling1 rejoicing1 sorrowing1 ,onward through life he goes2 ,each morning sees some task begin1 ,each evening sees its close2 ,something attempted1 something done1 ,has earned a night's repose4 ,thanks1 thanks to thee1 my worthy friend1 ,for the lesson thou hast taught6 ,thus at the flaming forge of life1 ,our fortunes must be wrought2 ,thus1 on its sounding anvil1 shaped ,each burning deed and thought6 --,longfellow4 ,,love ,,of ,,country ,breathes there a man with soul so dead1 ,who never to himself hath said1 ,this is my own1 my native land6 ,whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd1 ,as home his footsteps he hath turn'd1 ,from wandering on a foreign strand6 ,if such there breathe1 go1 mark him well2 ,for him no ,minstrel raptures swell2 ,high though his titles1 proud his name1 ,boundless his wealth as wish can claim2 ,despite those titles1 power1 and pelf1 ,the wretch1 concenter'd all in self1 ,living1 shall forfeit fair renown1 ,and doubly dying1 shall go down ,to the vile dust1 from whence he sprung1 ,unwept1 unhonor'd1 and unsung4 --,scott4 ,,the ,,daffodils4 ,i wandered lonely as a cloud ,that floats on high o'er vales and hills1 ,when all at once ,i saw a crowd1 ,a host1 of golden daffodils2 ,beside the lake1 beneath the trees1 ,fluttering and dancing in the breeze4 ,continuous as the stars that shine ,and twinkle on the milky way1 ,they stretched in never-ending line ,along the margin of a bay3 ,ten thousand saw ,i at a glance1 ,tossing their heads in sprightly dance4 ,the waves beside them danced2 but they ,outdid the sparkling waves in glee3 ,a poet could not but be gay1 ,in such a jocund company3 ,i gazed--and gazed--but little thought ,what wealth the show to me had brought3 ,for oft1 when on my couch ,i lie ,in vacant or in pensive mood1 ,they flash upon that inward eye ,which is the bliss of solitude2 ,and then my heart with pleasure fills1 ,and dances with the daffodils4 --,wordsworth4 ,a ,,child',s ,,thought ,,of ,,god4 ,they say that ,god lives very high3 ,but if you look above the pines ,you cannot see ,god4 ,and why8 ,and if you dig down in the mines ,you never see him in the gold1 ,though1 from him1 all that's glory shines4 ,god is so good1 he wears a fold ,of heaven and earth across his face-- ,like secrets kept for love untold4 ,but still ,i feel that his embrace ,slides down by thrills1 through all things made1 ,through sight and sound of every place3 ,as if my tender mother laid ,on my shut lids her kisses' pressure1 ,half waking me at night2 and said1 ,who kissed you through the dark1 dear guesser8 --,mrs4 ,browning4 ,,from ,,my ,,arm-,,chair4#ac ,am ,i a king that ,i should call my own ,this splendid ebon throne8 ,or by what reason or what right divine1 ,can ,i proclaim it mine8 ,only1 perhaps1 by right divine of song ,it may to me belong3 ,only because the spreading chestnut tree ,of old was sung by me4 ,well ,i remember it in all its prime1 ,when in the summer time ,the affluent foliage of its branches made ,a cavern of cool shade4 ,there by the blacksmith's forge1 beside the street1 ,its blossoms white and sweet ,enticed the bees1 until it seemed alive1 ,and murmured like a hive4 ,and when the winds of autumn1 with a shout1 ,tossed its great arms about1 ,the shining chestnuts1 bursting from the sheath1 ,dropped to the ground beneath4 ,and now some fragments of its branches bare1 ,shaped as a stately chair1 ,have1 by a hearth-stone found a home at last1 ,and whisper of the past4 ,the ,danish king could not in all his pride ,repel the ocean tide4 ,but1 seated in this chair1 ,i can in rhyme ,roll back the tide of time4 ,i see again1 as one in vision sees1 ,the blossoms and the bees1 ,and hear the children's voices call1 ,and the brown chestnuts fall4 ,i see the smithy with its fires aglow1 ,i hear the bellows blow1 ,and the shrill hammers on the anvil beat ,the iron white with heat4 ,and thus1 dear children1 have ye made for me ,this day a jubilee1 ,and to my more than three-score years and ten ,brought back my youth again4 ,the heart hath its own memory1 like the mind ,and in it are enshrined ,the precious keepsakes1 into which is wrought ,the giver's loving thought4 ,only your love and your remembrance could ,give life to this dead wood1 ,and make these branches1 leafless now so long1 ,blossom again in song4 --,longfellow4 #ac ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,a ,,song ,,of ,,easter4#ad ,sing1 children1 sing1 ,and the lily censers swing2 ,sing that life and joy are waking and that ,death no more is king4 ,sing the happy1 happy tumult of the slowly bright'ning ,spring2 ,sing1 little children1 sing1 ,sing1 children1 sing1 ,winter wild has taken wing4 ,fill the air with the sweet tidings till the frosty echoes ring4 ,along the eaves1 the icicles no longer cling2 ,and the crocus in the garden lifts its bright face to the sun2 ,and in the meadow1 softly the brooks begin to run2 ,and the golden catkins1 swing ,in the warm air of the ,spring-- ,sing1 little children1 sing4 ,sing1 children1 sing1 ,the lilies white you bring ,in the joyous ,easter morning1 for hopes are blossoming1 ,and as earth her shroud of snow from off her breast doth fling1 ,so may we cast our fetters off in ,god's eternal ,spring2 ,so may we find release at last from sorrow and from pain1 ,soon may we find our childhood's calm1 delicious dawn again4 ,sweet are your eyes1 ,o little ones1 that look with smiling grace1 ,without a shade of doubt or fear into the future's face4 ,sing1 sing in happy chorus1 with happy voices tell ,that death is life1 and ,god is good1 and all things shall be well4 ,that bitter day shall cease ,in warmth and light and peace1 ,that winter yields to ,spring-- ,sing1 little children1 sing4 --,celia ,thaxter4 #ad ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,the ,,joy ,,of ,,the ,,hills4#ae ,i ride on the mountain tops1 ,i ride2 ,i have found my life and am satisfied4 ,onward ,i ride in the blowing oats1 ,checking the field lark's rippling notes-- ,lightly ,i sweep from steep to steep2 ,o'er my head through branches high ,come glimpses of deep blue sky2 ,the tall oats brush my horse's flanks3 ,wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks2 ,a bee booms out of the scented grass2 ,a jay laughs with me as ,i pass4 ,i ride on the hills1 ,i forgive1 ,i forget ,life's hoard of regret-- ,all the terror and pain of a chafing chain4 ,grind on1 ,o cities1 grind6 ,i leave you a blur behind4 ,i am lifted elate--the skies expand2 ,here the world's heaped gold is a pile of sand4 ,let them weary and work in their narrow walls2 ,i ride with the voices of waterfalls4 ,i swing on as one in a dream--,i swing4 ,down the very hollows1 ,i shout1 ,i sing4 ,the world is gone like an empty word2 ,my body's a bough in the wind1--my heart a bird4 --,edwin ,markham4 #ae ,by permission from ,edwin ,markham's ,joy of the ,hills and ,other ,poems1 copyright by ,doubleday ,mc,clure1 ,new ,york4 ,,in ,,blossom ,,time4 ,its ,o my heart1 my heart1 ,to be out in the sun and sing1 ,to sing and shout in the fields about1 ,in the balm and blossoming4 ,sing loud1 ,o bird in the tree2 ,o bird1 sing loud in the sky1 ,and honey-bees1 blacken the clover-beds2 ,there are none of you as glad as ,i4 ,the leaves laugh low in the wind1 ,laugh low with the wind at play2 ,and the odorous call of the flowers all ,entices my soul away4 ,for oh1 but the world is fair1 is fair1 ,and oh1 but the world is sweet2 ,i will out in the old of the blossoming mould1 ,and sit at the ,master's feet4 ,and the love my heart would speak1 ,i will fold in the lily's rim1 ,that the lips of the blossom more pure and meek ,may offer it up to ,him4 ,then sing in the hedgerow green1 ,o thrush1 ,o skylark1 sing in the blue2 ,sing loud1 sing clear1 that the ,king may hear1 ,and my soul shall sing with you4 --,ina ,coolbrith4 ,,the ,,stars ,,and ,,the ,,flowers4#af ,spake full well1 in language quaint and olden1 ,one who dwelleth by the castled ,rhine1 ,when he called the flowers so blue and golden ,stars that in earth's firmament do shine4 ,stars they are wherein we read our history1 ,as astrologers and seers of eld2 ,yet not wrapped about with awful mystery1 ,like the burning stars that they beheld4 ,wondrous truths and manifold as wondrous1 ,god hath written in those stars above2 ,but not less in the bright flowerets under us ,stands the revelation of ,his love4 ,bright and glorious is that revelation1 ,written all over this great world of ours ,making evident our own creation1 ,in these stars of earth1 these golden flowers4 ,and the poet1 faithful and far-seeing1 ,sees1 alike in stars and flowers1 a part ,of the selfsame universal ,being1 ,which is throbbing in his brain and heart4 ,gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining1 ,blossoms flaunting in the eye of day1 ,tremulous leaves1 with soft and silver lining2 ,buds that open only to decay2 ,brilliant hopes1 all woven in gorgeous tissues1 ,flaunting gaily in the golden light2 ,large desires with most uncertain issues1 ,tender wishes blossoming at night4 ,these in flowers and men are more than seeming1 ,workings are they of the selfsame powers1 ,which the poet1 in no idle dreaming1 ,seeth in himself and in the flowers4 ,everywhere about us are they glowing1 ,some like stars to tell us ,spring is born3 ,others1 their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing1 ,stand like ,ruth amid the golden corn4 ,not alone in ,spring's armorial bearing1 ,and in summer's green-emblazoned field1 ,but in arms of brave old ,autumn's wearing1 ,in the center of his blazoned shield4 ,not alone in meadows and green alleys ,on the mountaintop and by the brink ,of sequestered pool in woodland valleys1 ,where the slaves of nature stoop to drink2 ,not alone in her vast dome of glory1 ,not on graves of birds or beasts alone1 ,but in old cathedrals1 high and hoary1 ,on the tombs of heroes carved in stone2 ,in the cottage of the rudest peasant1 ,in ancestral homes whose crumbling towers1 ,speaking of the ,past unto the ,present1 ,tell us of the ancient ,games of ,flowers4 ,in all places1 then1 and in all seasons1 ,flowers expand their light and soul-like wings2 ,teaching us1 by most persuasive reasons1 ,how akin they are to human things4 ,and with childlike1 credulous affection ,we behold their tender buds expand2 ,emblems of our own great resurrection1 ,emblems of the bright and better land4 --,longfellow #af ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,meadow-,,larks4 ,sweet1 sweet1 sweet6 ,oh1 happy that ,i am6 7,listen to the meadow-larks1 across the fields that sing67 ,sweet1 sweet1 sweet6 ,o subtle breath of balm1 ,o winds that blow1 ,o buds that grow1 ,o rapture of the spring6 ,sweet1 sweet1 sweet6 ,o skies1 serene and blue1 ,that shut the velvet pastures in1 that fold the mountain's crest6 ,sweet1 sweet1 sweet6 ,what of the clouds ye knew8 ,the vessels ride a golden tide1 upon a sea at rest4 ,sweet1 sweet1 sweet6 ,who prates of care and pain8 ,who says that life is sorrowful8 ,o life so glad1 so fleet6 ,ah6 he who lives the noblest life finds life the noblest gain1 ,the tears of pain a tender rain to make its waters sweet4 ,sweet1 sweet1 sweet6 ,o happy world that is6 ,dear heart1 ,i hear across the fields my mateling pipe and call ,sweet1 sweet1 sweet6 ,o world so full of bliss1 ,for life is love1 the world is love1 and love is over all6 --,ina ,coolbrith4 ,,the ,,arrow ,,and ,,the ,,song4 ,i shot an arrow into the air1 ,it fell to earth1 ,i knew not where2 ,for1 so swiftly it flew1 the sight ,could not follow it in its flight4 ,i breathed a song into the air1 ,it fell to earth1 ,i knew not where2 ,for who has sight so keen and strong1 ,that it can follow the flight of song8 ,long1 long afterward1 in an oak ,i found the arrow1 still unbroke2 ,and the song1 from beginning to end1 ,i found again in the heart of a friend4 --,longfellow4 ,,the ,,fiftieth ,,birthday ,,of ,,agassiz4#ag ,it was fifty years ago1 ,in the pleasant month of ,may1 ,in the beautiful ,pays de ,vaud1 ,a child in its cradle lay4 ,and ,nature1 the old nurse1 took ,the child upon her knee1 ,saying3 ,here is a story-book ,thy ,father has written for thee4 ,come1 wander with me1 she said1 ,into regions yet untrod2 ,and read what is still unread ,in the manuscripts of ,god4 ,and he wandered away and away ,with ,nature1 the dear old nurse1 ,who sang to him night and day ,the rhymes of the universe4 ,and whenever the way seemed long1 ,or his heart began to fail1 ,she would sing a more wonderful song1 ,or tell a more marvelous tale4 ,so she keeps him still a child1 ,and will not let him go1 ,though at times his heart beats wild ,for the beautiful ,pays de ,vaud2 ,though at times he hears in his dreams ,the ,ranz des ,vaches of old1 ,and the rush of mountain streams ,from glaciers clear and cold2 ,and the mother at home says1 ,hark6 ,for his voice ,i listen and yearn2 ,it is growing late and dark1 ,and my boy does not return6 --,longfellow4 #ag ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,sixth ,,grade ,,break1 ,,break1 ,,break4 ,break1 break1 break1 ,on thy cold gray stones1 ,o ,sea6 ,and ,i would that my tongue could utter ,the thoughts that arise in me4 ,oh1 well for the fisherman's boy1 ,that he shouts with his sister at play6 ,oh1 well for the sailor lad1 ,that he sings in his boat on the bay6 ,and the stately ships go on ,to their haven under the hill2 ,but oh1 for the touch of a vanished hand1 ,and the sound of a voice that is still6 ,break1 break1 break1 ,at the foot of thy crags1 ,o ,sea6 ,but the tender grace of a day that is dead ,will never come back to me4 --,alfred1 ,lord ,tennyson4 ,,columbus--,,westward4#ah ,behind him lay the gray ,azores1 ,behind the ,gates of ,hercules2 ,before him not the ghost of shores1 ,before him only shoreless seas4 ,the good mate said3 ,now we must pray1 ,for lo1 the very stars are gone4 ,brave ,adm'r'l speak2 what shall ,i say8 ,why say3 ',sail on6 sail on6 sail on6' ,my men grow mutinous day by day2 ,my men grow ghastly wan and weak4 ,the stout mate thought of home2 a spray ,of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek4 ,what shall ,i say1 brave ,adm'r'l1 say1 ,if we sight naught but seas at dawn8 ,why you shall say at break of day3 ',sail on6 sail on6 sail on6 sail on6' ,they sailed and sailed1 as the winds might blow1 ,until at last the blanched mate said3 ,why1 not even ,god would know ,should ,i and all my men fall dead4 ,these very winds forget their way1 ,for ,god from these dread seas is gone4 ,now speak1 brave ,adm'r'l2 speak and say-- ,he said3 ,sail on6 sail on6 sail on6 ,they sailed4 ,they sailed4 ,then spake the mate3 ,this mad sea shows its teeth to-night4 ,he curls his lips1 he lies in wait1 ,with lifted teeth1 as if to bite6 ,brave ,adm'r'l1 say but one good word2 ,what shall we do when hope is gone8 ,the words leapt as a leaping sword3 ,sail on6 sail on6 sail on6 sail on6 ,then1 pale and worn1 he kept his deck1 ,and peered through darkness4 ,ah1 that night ,of all dark nights6 ,and then a speck-- ,a light6 ,a light6 ,a light6 ,a light6 ,it grew1 a starlit flag unfurled6 ,it grew to be ,time's burst of dawn4 ,he gained a world2 he gave that world ,its grandest lesson3 ,on6 sail on6 --,joaquin ,miller4 #ah ,in a recent critical article1 in the ,london ,athenum is the sentence3 ,in point of power1 workmanship and feeling1 among all the poems written by ,americans1 we are inclined to give first place to the ',port of ,ships' 7or ',columbus'7 by ,joaquin ,miller4 ,,the ,,day ,,is ,,done4 ,the day is done1 and the darkness ,falls from the wings of ,night1 ,as a feather is wafted downward ,from an eagle in his flight4 ,i see the lights of the village ,gleam through the rain and the mist1 ,and a feeling of sadness comes o'er me1 ,that my soul cannot resist3 ,a feeling of sadness and longing1 ,that is not akin to pain1 ,and resembles sorrow only ,as the mist resembles the rain4 ,come1 read to me some poem1 ,some simple and heartfelt lay1 ,that shall soothe this restless feeling1 ,and banish the thoughts of day4 ,not from the grand old masters1 ,not from the bards#ai sublime1 ,whose distant footsteps echo ,through the corridors of ,time4 ,for1 like strains of martial music1 ,their mighty thoughts suggest ,life's endless toil and endeavor2 ,and to-night ,i long for rest4 ,read from some humbler poet1 ,whose songs gushed from his heart1 ,as showers from the clouds of summer1 ,or tears from the eyelids start2 ,who1 through long days of labor2 ,and nights devoid of ease1 ,still heard in his soul the music ,of wonderful melodies4 ,such songs have power to quiet ,the restless pulse of care1 ,and come like the benediction#bj ,that follows after prayer4 ,then read from the treasured volume ,the poem of thy choice1 ,and lend to the rhyme of the poet ,the beauty of thy voice4 ,and the night shall be filled with music1 ,and the cares that infest the day1 ,shall fold their tents like the ,arabs1 ,and as silently steal away4 --,longfellow4 #ai bards1 ancient poets4 #bj benediction1 blessing4 ,,the ,,landing ,,of ,,the ,,pilgrims4 ,the breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock-bound coast1 ,and the woods against a stormy sky their giant branches tossed2 ,and the heavy night hung dark the hills and waters o'er1 ,when a band of exiles moored their bark on the wild ,new ,england shore4 ,not as the conqueror comes1 they the true-hearted1 came2 ,not with the roll of stirring drums1 and the trumpet that sings of fame2 ,not as the flying come1 in silence and in fear2 ,they shook the depths of the desert gloom with their hymns of lofty cheer4 ,amidst the storm they sang1 and the stars heard1 and the sea2 ,and the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang with the anthems of the free6 ,the ocean eagle soared from his nest by the white wave's foam1 ,and the rocking pines of the forest roared--this was their welcome home6 ,there were men with hoary hair amidst that pilgrim band2 ,why had they come to wither there away from their childhood's land8 ,there was woman's fearless eye1 lit by her deep love's truth2 ,there was manhood's brow serenely high1 and the fiery heart of youth4 ,what sought they thus afar8 ,bright jewels of the mine8 ,the wealth of seas1 the spoils of war8 ,they sought a faith's pure shrine6 ,ay1 call it holy ground1 the soil where first they trod3 ,they left unstained1 what there they found1 ,freedom to worship ,god4 --,mrs4 ,hemans4 ,,he ,,prayeth ,,best4 ,he prayeth best1 who loveth best ,all things both great and small2 ,for the dear ,god who loveth us1 ,he made and loveth all4 --,coleridge4 ,,each ,,and ,,all4 ,little thinks1 in the field1 yon red-cloaked clown1 ,of thee from the hilltop looking down2 ,the heifer that lows in the upland farm1 ,far heard1 lows not thine ear to charm1 ,the sexton1 tolling his bell at noon1 ,deems not that great ,napoleon ,stops his horse1 and lists with delight1 ,whilst his files sweep round yon ,alpine height2 ,nor knowest thou what argument ,thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent4 ,all are needed by each one2 ,nothing is fair or good alone4 ,i thought the sparrow's note from heaven1 ,singing at dawn on the alder bough2 ,i brought him home1 in his nest1 at even1 ,he sings the song1 but it cheers not now1 ,for ,i did not bring the river and sky2 ,he sang to my ear1 they sang to my eye4 ,the delicate shells lay on the shore2 ,the bubbles of the latest wave ,fresh pearls to their enamel gave1 ,and the bellowing of the savage sea ,greeted their safe escape to me4 ,i wiped away the weeds and foam1 ,i fetched my sea-born treasures home2 ,but the poor1 unsightly1 noisome things ,had left their beauty on the shore ,with the sun and the sand and the wild uproar4 ,the lover watched his graceful maid1 ,as mid the virgin train she strayed1 ,nor knew her beauty's best attire ,was woven still by the snow-white quire4 ,at last she came to his hermitage1 ,like the bird from the woodlands to the cage2 ,the gay enchantment was undone1 ,a gentle wife1 but fairy none4 ,when ,i said1 ,i covet truth2 ,beauty is unripe childhood's cheat2 ,i leave it behind with the games of youth4 ,as ,i spoke1 beneath my feet ,the ground pine curled its pretty leaf1 ,running over the club-moss burrs2 ,i inhaled the violet's breath2 ,around me stood the oaks and firs1 ,pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground4 ,over me soared the eternal sky1 ,full of light and of deity2 ,again ,i saw1 again ,i heard1 ,the rolling river1 the morning bird2 ,beauty through my senses stole3 ,i yielded myself to the perfect whole4 --,emerson4 ,,paul ,,revere',s ,,ride4 ,listen1 my children1 and you shall hear ,of the midnight ride of ,paul ,revere4 ,on the eighteenth of ,april in ,seventy-five2 ,hardly a man is now alive ,who remembers that famous day and year4 ,he said to his friend1 ,if the ,british march ,by land or sea from the town#ba to-night1 ,hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch ,of the ,north ,church tower as a signal light-- ,one if by land1 and two if by sea1 ,and ,i on the opposite shore#bb will be1 ,ready to ride and spread the alarm ,through every ,middlesex village and farm1 ,for the country folk to be up and to arm4 ,then he said ,good-night6 and with muffled oar ,silently rowed to the ,charlestown shore1 ,just as the moon rose over the bay1 ,where swinging wide at her moorings lay ,the ,somerset1 ,british man-of-war2 ,a phantom ship1 with each mast and spar ,across the moon like a prison bar1 ,and a huge black hulk that was magnified ,by its own reflection in the tide4 ,meanwhile1 his friend1 through alley and street1 ,wanders and watches with eager ears1 ,till in the silence around him he hears ,the muster of men at the barrack door1 ,the sound of arms1 and the tramp of feet1 ,and the measured tread of the grenadiers#bc ,marching down to their boats on the shore4 ,then he climbed to the tower of the church1 ,up the wooden stairs with stealthy tread1 ,to the belfry chamber overhead1 ,and startled the pigeons from their perch1 ,on the sombre rafters1 that round him made ,masses and moving shapes of shade-- ,up the light ladder1 slender and tall1 ,to the highest window in the wall1 ,where he paused to listen and look down ,a moment on the roofs of the town1 ,and the moonlight flowing over all4 ,meanwhile1 impatient to mount and ride1 ,booted and spurred1 with a heavy stride ,on the opposite shore walked ,paul ,revere ,now he patted his horse's side1 ,now gazed at the landscape far and near1 ,then1 impetuous1 stamped the earth1 ,and turned and tightened his saddle girth2 ,but mostly he watched with eager search ,the belfry-tower of the old ,north ,church1 ,as it rose above the graves on the hill1 ,lonely and spectral and sombre and still4 ,and lo6 as he looks1 on the belfry's height ,a glimmer1 and then a gleam of light6 ,he springs to the saddle1 the bridle he turns1 ,but lingers and gazes1 till full on his sight ,a second lamp in the belfry burns6 99 99 99 99 99 ,a hurry of hoofs in the village street1 ,a shape in the moonlight1 a bulk in the dark1 ,and beneath from the pebbles1 in passing1 a spark ,struck out by a steed that flies fearless and fleet2 ,that was all6 ,and yet through the gloom and the light1 ,the fate of a nation was riding that night4 ,it was twelve by the village clock ,when he crossed the bridge into ,medford town4 ,he heard the crowing of the cock1 ,and the barking of the farmer's dog1 ,and felt the damp of the river fog1 ,that rises when the sun goes down4 ,it was one by the village clock1 ,when he rode into ,lexington4 ,he saw the gilded weathercock ,swim in the moonlight as he passed1 ,and the meeting-house windows1 blank and bare1 ,gaze at him with a spectral stare1 ,as if they already stood aghast ,at the bloody work they would look upon4 ,it was two by the village clock1 ,when he came to the bridge in ,concord town4 ,he heard the bleating of the flock1 ,and the twitter of the birds among the trees1 ,and felt the breath of the morning breeze ,blowing over the meadows brown4 99 99 99 99 99 ,so through the night rode ,paul ,revere2 ,and so through the night went his cry of alarm ,to every ,middlesex village and farm-- ,a cry of defiance and not of fear1 ,a voice in the darkness1 a knock at the door1 ,and a word that shall echo forever more6 ,for1 borne on the night-wind of the ,past1 ,through all our history1 to the last1 ,in the hour of darkness and peril and need1 ,the people will waken and listen to hear ,the hurrying hoof-beats of that steed1 ,and the midnight message of ,paul ,revere4 --,longfellow4 #ba ,boston4 #bb ,charlestown4 #bc grenadiers1 ,british soldiers4 ,,battle ,,hymn ,,of ,,the ,,republic4 ,mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the ,lord2 ,he is tramping out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored2 ,he hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword2 ,his truth is marching on4 ,i have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps2 ,they have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps2 ,i have read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps3 ,his day is marching on4 ,i have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel2 ,as ye deal with my contemners1 so with you my grace shall deal2 ,let the ,hero1 born of woman1 crush the serpent with his heel2 ,since ,god is marching on4 ,he has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat2 ,he is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat2 ,oh1 be swift1 my soul1 to answer him6 be jubilant1 my feet6 ,our ,god is marching on4 ,in the beauty of the lilies1 ,christ was born across the sea1 ,with a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me2 ,as he died to make men holy1 let us die to make men free1 ,while ,god is marching on4 --,julia ,ward ,howe4 ,,the ,,barefoot ,,boy4#bd ,blessings on thee1 little man1 ,barefoot boy with cheeks of tan6 ,with thy turned up pantaloons ,and thy merry whistled tunes2 ,with thy red lips1 redder still1 ,kissed by strawberries on the hill2 ,with the sunshine on thy face1 ,through thy torn brim's jaunty grace2 ,from my heart ,i give thee joy6-- ,i was once a barefoot boy6 ,oh1 for boyhood's painless play1 ,sleep that wakes in laughing day1 ,health that mocks the doctor's rules1 ,knowledge never learned in schools1 ,of the wild bee's morning chase1 ,of the wild flower's time and place1 ,how the tortoise bears his shell1 ,how the woodchuck digs his cell1 ,how the robin feeds her young1 ,how the oriole's nest is hung1 ,where the whitest lilies blow1 ,where the freshest berries grow1 ,where the ground-nut trails its vine1 ,where the wood-grape's clusters shine1 ,of the black wasp's cunning way1 ,mason of his walls of clay4 ,oh1 for boyhood's time of ,june1 ,crowding years in one brief moon1 ,when all things ,i heard or saw ,me1 their master1 waited for6 ,i was rich in flowers and trees1 ,humming-birds and honey-bees2 ,for my sport the squirrel played1 ,plied the snouted mole his spade4 ,laughed the brook for my delight1 ,through the day and through the night1 ,whispering at the garden wall1 ,talked with me from fall to fall4 ,mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond1 ,mine the walnut slopes beyond1 ,mine on bending orchard trees1 ,apples of ,hesperides4 ,i was monarch3 pomp and joy ,waited on the barefoot boy6 --,whittier4 #bd ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,lincoln1 ,,the ,,great ,,commoner4#be ,when the ,norn-mother saw the ,whirl-wind ,hour1 ,greatening and darkening as it hurried on1 ,she bent the strenuous heavens and came down ,to make a man to meet the mortal need4 ,she took the tried clay of the common road1 ,clay warm yet with the genial heat of earth1 ,dashed through it all a strain of prophecy3 ,then mixed a laughter with the serious stuff1 ,it was a stuff to wear for centuries1 ,a man that matched the mountains and compelled ,the stars to look our way and honor us4 ,the color of the ground was in him1 the red ,earth ,the tang and odor of the primal things-- ,the rectitude and patience of the rocks3 ,the gladness of the wind that shakes the corn2 ,the courage of the bird that dares the sea2 ,the justice of the rain that loves all leaves2 ,the pity of the snow that hides all scars2 ,the loving kindness of the wayside well2 ,the tolerance and equity of light ,that gives as freely to the shrinking weed ,as to the great oak flaring to the wind-- ,to the grave's low hill as to the ,matterhorn ,that shoulders out the sky4 ,and so he came ,from prairie cabin up to ,capitol1 ,one fair ,ideal led our chieftain on4 ,forevermore he burned to do his deed ,with the fine stroke and gesture of a king4 ,he built the rail pile as he built the ,state1 ,pouring his splendid strength through every blow1 ,the conscience of him testing every blow1 ,to make his deed the measure of a man4 ,so came the captain with the mighty heart2 ,and when the step of earthquake shook the house1 ,wrenching the rafters from their ancient hold1 ,he held the ridge-pole up and spiked again ,the rafters of the ,home4 ,he held his place-- ,held the long purpose like a growing tree-- ,held on through blame and faltered not at praise4 ,and when he fell in whirlwind1 he went down ,as when a kingly cedar green with boughs ,goes down with a great shout upon the hills4 --,edwin ,markham4 #be ,copyrighted by ,doubleday ,mc,clure4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,opportunity4#bf ,this ,i beheld1 or dreamed it in a dream3 ,there spread a cloud of dust along a plain ,and underneath the cloud1 or in it1 raged ,a furious battle1 and men yelled1 and swords ,shocked upon swords and shields1 a prince's banner ,wavered1 then staggered backward1 hemmed by foes4 ,a craven hung along the battle's edge1 ,and thought3 ,had ,i a sword of keener steel-- ,that blue blade that the king's son bears--but this ,blunt thing6 ,he snapped and flung it from his hand1 ,and lowering crept away and left the field4 ,then came the king's son wounded1 sore bestead1 ,and weaponless1 and saw the broken sword1 ,hilt buried in the dry and trodden sand1 ,and ran and snatched it1 and with battle shout ,lifted afresh1 he hewed his enemy down1 ,and saved a great cause on that heroic day4 --,edward ,rowland ,sill4 #bf ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,a ,,song4#bg ,there is ever a song somewhere1 my dear2 ,there is ever a something sings alway3 ,there's the song of the lark when the skies are clear1 ,and the song of the thrush when the skies are gray4 ,the sunshine showers across the grain1 ,and the bluebird trills in the orchard tree2 ,and in and out1 when the eaves drip rain1 ,the swallows are twittering ceaselessly4 ,there is ever a song somewhere1 my dear4 ,be the skies above or dark or fair1 ,there is ever a song that our hearts may hear-- ,there is ever a song somewhere1 my dear-- ,there is ever a song somewhere6 ,there is ever a song somewhere1 my dear1 ,in the mid-night black1 or the mid-day blue2 ,the robin pipes when the sun is here1 ,and the cricket chirps the whole night through4 ,the buds may blow1 and the fruit may grow1 ,and the autumn leaves drop crisp and sear2 ,but whether the sun1 or the rain1 or the snow1 ,there is ever a song somewhere1 my dear4 ,there is ever a song somewhere1 my dear4 ,be the skies above or dark or fair1 ,there is ever a song that our hearts may hear-- ,there is ever a song somewhere1 my dear-- ,there is ever a song somewhere6 --,james ,whitcomb ,riley4 #bg ,from ,afterwhiles1 copyrighted #ahhg1 by ,bowen-,merrill ,co4 ,must not be reprinted without permission from the publishers4 ,,to ,a ,,friend4 ,green be the turf above thee1 ,friend of my better days6 ,none knew thee but to love thee1 ,nor named thee but to praise4 ,tears fell1 when thou wert dying1 ,from eyes unused to weep1 ,and long1 where thou art lying1 ,will tears the cold turf steep4 ,when hearts1 whose truth was proven1 ,like thine are laid in earth1 ,there should a wreath be woven ,to tell the world their worth4 --,fitz-,greene ,halleck4 ,,seventh ,,grade ,,psalm ,,cxxi4 #a4 ,i will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help4 #b4 ,my help cometh from the ,lord1 which made ,heaven and earth4 #c4 ,he will not suffer thy foot to be moved3 ,he that keepeth thee will not slumber4 #d4 ,behold1 ,he that keepeth ,israel shall neither slumber nor sleep4 #e4 ,the ,lord is thy keeper3 ,the ,lord is thy shade on thy right hand4 #f4 ,the sun shall not smite thee by day1 nor the moon by night4 #g4 ,the ,lord shall preserve thee from all evil3 ,he shall preserve thy soul4 #h4 ,the ,lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth1 and even for evermore4 --,bible4 ,,rain ,,in ,,summer4 ,how beautiful is the rain6 ,after the dust and heat1 ,in the broad and fiery street1 ,in the narrow lane1 ,how beautiful is the rain6 ,how it clatters upon the roofs ,like the tramp of hoofs6 ,how it gushes and struggles out ,from the throat of the overflowing spout4 ,across the window-pane ,it pours and pours1 ,and swift and wide1 ,with a muddy tide1 ,like a river down the gutter roars ,the rain1 the welcome rain6 ,the sick man from his chamber looks ,at the twisted brooks2 ,he can feel the cool ,breath of each little pool2 ,his fevered brain ,grows calm again1 ,and he breathes a blessing on the rain6 ,from the neighboring school ,come the boys ,with more than their wonted noise ,and commotion2 ,and down the wet streets ,sail their mimic#bh fleets1 ,till the treacherous pool ,engulfs them in its whirling ,and turbulent ocean4 ,in the country on every side1 ,where1 far and wide1 ,like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide1 ,stretches the plain1 ,to the dry grass and the drier grain ,how welcome is the rain6 ,in the furrowed land ,the toilsome and patient oxen stand1 ,lifting the yoke-encumbered#bi head1 ,with their dilated nostrils spread1 ,they silently inhale ,the clover-scented gale1 ,and the vapors that arise ,from the well-watered and smoking soil ,for this rest in the furrow after toil1 ,their large and lustrous eyes ,seem to thank the ,lord1 ,more than man's spoken word4 ,near at hand1 ,from under the sheltering trees1 ,the farmer sees ,his pastures and his fields of grain1 ,as they bend their tops ,to the numberless beating drops ,of the incessant rain4 ,he counts it as no sin ,that he sees therein ,only his own thrift and gain4 ,these and far more than these1 ,the ,poet sees6 ,he can behold ,aquarius#cj old ,walking the fenceless fields of air ,and1 from each ample fold ,of the clouds about him rolled1 ,scattering everywhere ,the showery rain1 ,as the farmer scatters his grain4 ,he can behold ,things manifold ,that have not yet been wholly told1 ,have not been wholly sung nor said4 ,for his thought1 which never stops1 ,follows the water-drops ,down to the graves of the dead1 ,down through chasms and gulfs profound ,to the dreary fountain-head ,of lakes and rivers under ground1 ,and sees them1 when the rain is done1 ,on the bridge of colors seven1 ,climbing up once more to heaven1 ,opposite the setting sun4 ,thus the seer1#ca ,with vision clear1 ,sees forms appear and disappear1 ,in the perpetual round of strange ,mysterious change ,from birth to death1 from death to birth2 ,from earth to heaven1 from heaven to earth1 ,till glimpses more sublime ,of things unseen before ,unto his wondering eyes reveal ,the universe1 as an immeasurable wheel ,turning forevermore ,in the rapid and rushing river of time4 --,longfellow4 #bh mimic1 copies 7toys74 #bi encumbered1 burdened4 #cj ,aquarius1 water-bearer4 #ca seer1 prophet1 wise man4 ,a ,,psalm ,,of ,,life4 ,tell me not in mournful numbers1 ,life is but an empty dream6 ,for the soul is dead that slumbers1 ,and things are not what they seem4 ,life is real6 life is earnest6 ,and the grave is not its goal2 ,dust thou art1 to dust returnest1 ,was not spoken of the soul4 ,not enjoyment1 and not sorrow1 ,is our destined end or way2 ,but to act1 that each to-morrow ,find us farther than to-day4 ,art is long1 and ,time is fleeting1 ,and our hearts though stout and brave1 ,still1 like muffled drums1 are beating ,funeral marches to the grave4 ,in the world's broad field of battle1 ,in the bivouac of life1 ,be not like dumb1 driven cattle-- ,be a hero in the strife6 ,trust no future1 howe'er pleasant2 ,let the dead past bury its dead6 ,act1 act in the living present1 ,heart within1 and ,god o'erhead6 ,lives of great men all remind us ,we can make our lives sublime1 ,and1 departing1 leave behind us ,footprints on the sands of time3 ,footprints that perhaps another1 ,sailing o'er life's solemn main1 ,a forlorn and shipwrecked brother1 ,seeing1 shall take heart again4 ,let us1 then1 be up and doing1 ,with a heart for any fate2 ,still achieving1 still pursuing1 ,learn to labor and to wait4 --,longfellow4 ,,hymn ,,on ,,the ,,fight ,,at ,,concord4 ,by the rude bridge that arched the flood1 ,their flag to ,april's breeze unfurled1 ,here once the embattled farmers stood1 ,and fired the shot heard round the world4 ,the foe long since in silence slept1 ,alike the conqueror silent sleeps1 ,and ,time the ruined bridge has swept ,down the dark stream which seaward creeps4 ,on this green bank1 by this soft stream1 ,we set to-day the votive stone1 ,that memory may their deed redeem1 ,when1 like our sires1 our sons are gone4 ,spirit that made those heroes dare ,to die1 and leave their children free1 ,bid ,time and ,nature gently spare ,the shaft we raise to them and thee4 --,r4 ,w4 ,emerson4 ,,to ,a ,,waterfowl4 ,whither1 'midst falling dew1 ,while glow the heavens with the last steps of day1 ,far1 through their rosy depths1 dost thou pursue ,thy solitary way8 ,vainly the fowlers' eye ,might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong1 ,as1 darkly seen against the crimson sky1 ,thy figure floats along4 ,seek'st thou the plashy brink ,of weedy lake1 or marge of river wide1 ,or where the rocking billows rise and sink ,on the chafed ocean side8 ,there is a ,power whose care ,teaches thy way along that pathless coast1 ,the desert and illimitable air1 ,lone wandering1 but not lost4 ,all day thy wings have fanned1 ,at that far height1 the cold1 thin atmosphere1 ,yet stoop not1 weary1 to the welcome land1 ,though the dark night is near4 ,and soon that toil shall end2 ,soon shalt thou find a summer home1 and rest1 ,and scream among thy fellows2 reeds shall bend ,soon o'er thy sheltered nest4 ,thou'rt gone1 the abyss of heaven ,hath swallow'd up thy form2 yet1 on my heart1 ,deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given1 ,and shall not soon depart4 ,he who1 from zone to zone1 ,guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight1 ,in the long way that ,i must tread alone1 ,will lead my steps aright4 --,bryant4 ,,the ,,heritage4 ,the rich man's son inherits lands1 ,and piles of brick and stone1 and gold1 ,and he inherits soft white hands1 ,and tender flesh that fears the cold1 ,nor dares to wear a garment old2 ,a heritage it seems to me1 ,one scarce would wish to hold in fee4 ,the rich man's son inherits cares2 ,the banks may break1 the factory burn1 ,a breath may burst his bubble shares1 ,and soft white hands could hardly earn ,a living that would serve his turn2 ,a heritage it seems to me1 ,one scarce would wish to hold in fee4 ,the rich man's son inherits wants1 ,his stomach craves for dainty fare2 ,with sated heart1 he hears the pants ,of toiling hands with brown arms bare1 ,and wearies in his easy-chair2 ,a heritage it seems to me1 ,one scarce would wish to hold in fee4 ,what doth the poor man's son inherit8 ,stout muscles and a sinewy heart1 ,a hardy frame1 a hardier spirit2 ,king of two hands1 he does his part ,in every useful toil and art2 ,a heritage it seems to me1 ,a king might wish to hold in fee4 ,what doth the poor man's son inherit8 ,wishes o'erjoyed with humble things1 ,a rank adjudged by toil-won merit1 ,content that from enjoyment springs1 ,a heart that in his labor sings2 ,a heritage it seems to me1 ,a king might wish to hold in fee4 ,what doth the poor man's son inherit8 ,a patience learned of being poor1 ,courage1 if sorrow come1 to bear it1 ,a fellow-feeling that is sure ,to make the outcast bless his door2 ,a heritage1 it seems to me ,a king might wish to hold in fee4 ,o rich man's son6 there is a toil ,that with all others level stands2 ,large charity doth never soil1 ,but only whiten1 soft1 white hands-- ,this is the best crop from thy lands2 ,a heritage1 it seems to me1 ,worth being rich to hold in fee4 ,o poor man's son1 scorn not thy state2 ,there is worse weariness than thine1 ,in merely being rich and great2 ,toil only gives the soul to shine1 ,and makes rest fragrant and benign2 ,a heritage1 it seems to me1 ,worth being poor to hold in fee4 ,both1 heirs to some six feet of sod1 ,are equal in the earth at last2 ,both children of the same dear ,god1 ,prove title to your heirship vast ,by record of a well-filled past2 ,a heritage1 it seems to me1 ,well worth a life to hold in fee4 --,lowell4 ,,elegy ,,written ,,in ,a ,,country ,,churchyard4 ,the curfew tolls the knell of parting day1 ,the lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea1 ,the ploughman homeward plods his weary way1 ,and leaves the world to darkness and to me4 ,now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight1 ,and all the air a solemn stillness holds1 ,save where the beetle wheels his droning flight1 ,and drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds3 ,save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r ,the moping owl does to the moon complain ,of such as1 wand'ring near her secret bow'r1 ,molest her ancient solitary reign4 ,beneath those rugged elms1 that yew-tree's shade1 ,where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap1 ,each in his narrow cell forever laid1 ,the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep4 ,the breezy call of incense-breathing morn1 ,the swallow twittering from the straw-built shed1 ,the cock's shrill clarion1 or the echoing horn1 ,no more shall rouse them from their lowly bed4 ,for them no more the blazing hearth shall burn1 ,or busy housewife ply her evening care3 ,no children run to lisp their sire's return1 ,or climb his knees the envied kiss to share4 ,oft did the harvest to their sickle yield1 ,their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke3 ,how jocund did they drive their team afield6 ,how bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke6 ,let not ambition mock their useful toil1 ,their homely joys and destiny obscure2 ,nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile1 ,the short and simple annals of the poor4 ,the boast of heraldry2 the pomp of pow'r1 ,and all that beauty1 all that wealth e'er gave1 ,await alike the inevitable hour-- ,the paths of glory lead but to the grave4 ,nor you1 ye proud1 impute to these the fault1 ,if mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raise1 ,where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault1 ,the pealing anthem swells the note of praise4 ,can storied urn or animated bust ,back to its mansion call the fleeting breath8 ,can honor's voice provoke the silent dust1 ,or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death8 ,perhaps in this neglected spot is laid ,some heart once pregnant with celestial fire2 ,hands1 that the rod of empire might have swayed1 ,or waked to ecstacy the living lyre4 ,but knowledge to their eyes her ample page1 ,rich with the spoils of time1 did ne'er unroll2 ,chill penury repress'd their noble rage1 ,and froze the genial current of the soul4 ,full many a gem of purest ray serene ,the dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear3 ,full many a flower is born to blush unseen1 ,and waste its sweetness on the desert air1 ,some village ,hampden1 that with dauntless breast ,the little tyrant of his fields withstood1 ,some mute1 inglorious ,milton here may rest1 ,some ,cromwell guiltless of his country's blood4 ,th' applause of list'ning senates to command1 ,the threats of pain and ruin to despise1 ,to scatter plenty o'er a smiling land1 ,and read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes ,their lot forbade3 nor circumscrib'd alone ,their growing virtues1 but their crimes confin'd3 ,forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne1 ,and shut the gates of mercy on mankind1 ,the struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide1 ,to quench the blushes of ingenuous shame1 ,or heap the shrine of luxury and pride ,with incense kindled at the ,muse's flame4 ,far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife1 ,their sober wishes never learned to stray2 ,along the cool1 sequester'd vale of life ,they kept the noiseless tenor of their way4 ,yet e'en these bones from insult to protect ,some frail memorial still erected nigh1 ,with uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd1 ,implores the passing tribute of a sigh4 ,their name1 their years1 spelt by th' unletter'd ,muse1 ,the place of fame and elegy supply3 ,and many a holy text around she strews1 ,that teach the rustic moralist to die4 ,for who1 to dumb forgetfulness a prey1 ,this pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd1 ,left the warm precincts of the cheerful day1 ,nor cast one longing1 ling'ring look behind8 ,on some fond breast the parting soul relies1 ,some pious drops the closing eye requires2 ,ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries1 ,ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires4 ,for thee1 who1 mindful of th' unhonor'd ,dead1 ,dost in these lines their artless tale relate2 ,if chance1 by lonely contemplation led1 ,some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate1 ,haply some hoary-headed swain may say1 ,oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn ,brushing with hasty steps the dews away1 ,to meet the sun upon the upland lawn4 ,there at the foot of yonder nodding beech1 ,that wreathes its old fantastic roots so high1 ,his listless length at noontide would he stretch1 ,and pore upon the brook that babbles by ,hard by yon wood1 now smiling as in scorn1 ,mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove2 ,now drooping1 woeful-wan1 like one forlorn1 ,or craz'd with care1 or cross'd in hopeless love4 ,one morn ,i missed him on the custom'd hill1 ,along the heath1 and near his fav'rite tree2 ,another came2 nor yet beside the rill1 ,nor up the lawn1 nor at the wood was he4 ,the next1 with dirges due in sad array1 ,slow through the church-way path we saw him borne-- ,approach and read 7for thou canst read7 the lay1 ,grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn4 ,,the ,,epitaph4 ,here rests his head upon the lap of earth ,a youth1 to fortune and to fame unknown ,fair science frown'd not on his humble birth1 ,and melancholy mark'd him for her own4 ,large was his bounty1 and his soul sincere1 ,heav'n did a recompense as largely send3 ,he gave to mis'ry all he had1 a tear1 ,he gain'd from heav'n 7'twas all he wish'd7 a friend4 ,no farther seek his merits to disclose1 ,or draw his frailties from their dread abode 7,there they alike in trembling hope repose7 ,the bosom of his father and his ,god4 --,thomas ,gray4 ,,gradatim4#cb ,heaven is not gained at a single bound2 ,but we build the ladder by which we rise ,from the lowly earth to the vaulted skies1 ,and we mount to its summit round by round4 ,i count this thing to be grandly true1 ,that a noble deed is a step toward ,god-- ,lifting the soul from the common sod ,to a purer air and a broader view4 ,we rise by things that are 'neath our feet2 ,by what we have mastered of good and gain2 ,by the pride deposed and the passion slain1 ,and the vanquished ills that we hourly meet4 ,we hope1 we aspire1 we resolve1 we trust1 ,when the morning calls us to life and light1 ,but our hearts grow weary1 and1 ere the night1 ,our lives are trailing the sordid dust4 ,we hope1 we resolve1 we aspire1 we pray1 ,and we think that we mount the air on wings ,beyond the recall of sensual things1 ,while our feet still cling to the heavy clay4 ,wings for the angels1 but feet for men6 ,we may borrow the wings to find the way-- ,we may hope1 and resolve1 and aspire1 and pray1 ,but our feet must rise1 or we fall again4 ,only in dreams is a ladder thrown ,from the weary earth to the sapphire walls2 ,but the dream departs1 and the vision falls1 ,and the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone4 ,heaven is not reached at a single bound3 ,but we build the ladder by which we rise ,from the lowly earth to the vaulted skies1 ,and we mount to its summit round by round4 --,j4 ,g4 ,holland4 #cb ,from ,the ,complete ,poetical ,writings ,of ,j4 ,g4 ,holland1 copyright #ahgi-ahha by ,charles ,scribner's ,sons4 ,,god ,,save ,,the ,,flag4#cc ,washed in the blood of the brave and the blooming1 ,snatched from the altars of insolent foes1 ,burning with star-fires1 but never consuming1 ,flashed its broad ribbons of lily and rose4 ,vainly the prophets of ,baal would rend it1 ,vainly his worshipers pray for its fall2 ,thousands have died for it1 millions defend it1 ,emblem of justice and mercy to all4 ,justice that reddens the sky with her terrors1 ,mercy that comes with her white-handed train1 ,soothing all passions1 redeeming all errors1 ,sheathing the saber and breaking the chain4 ,born on the deluge of old usurpations1 ,drifted our ,ark o'er the desolate seas1 ,bearing the rainbow of hope to the nations ,torn from the storm-cloud and flung to the breeze6 ,god bless the flag and its loyal defenders ,while its broad folds o'er the battle-fields wave1 ,till the dim star-wreaths rekindle its splendors ,washed from its stains in the blood of the brave6 --,oliver ,wendell ,holmes4 #cc ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,life4#cd ,forenoon and afternoon and night--,forenoon and afternoon and night1 ,forenoon1 and--what6 ,the empty song repeats itself4 ,no more8 ,yea1 that is life3 ,make this forenoon sublime1 ,this afternoon a psalm1 this night a prayer1 ,and ,time is conquered and thy crown is won4 --,edward ,rowland ,sill4 #cd ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,eighth ,,grade ,,hymn ,,to ,,the ,,night4 ,i heard the trailing garments of the ,night ,sweep through her marble halls6 ,i saw her sable skirts all fringed with light ,from the celestial walls6 ,i felt her presence1 by its spell of might1 ,stoop o'er me from above2 ,the calm1 majestic presence of the ,night1 ,as of the one ,i love4 ,i heard the sounds of sorrow and delight1 ,the manifold soft chimes1 ,that fill the haunted chambers of the ,night1 ,like some old poet's rhymes4 ,from the cool cisterns of the midnight air ,my spirit drank repose2 ,the fountain of perpetual peace flows there-- ,from those deep cisterns flows4 ,o holy ,night6 from thee ,i learn to bear ,what man has borne before6 ,thou layest thy finger on the lips of ,care1 ,and they complain no more4 ,peace6 ,peace6 ,orestes-like ,i breathe this prayer6 ,descend with broad-winged flight1 ,the welcome1 the thrice-prayed for1 the most fair1 ,the best beloved ,night6 --,longfellow4 ,,the ,,builders4 ,all are architects of ,fate1 ,working in these walls of ,time2 ,some with massive deeds and great1 ,some with ornaments of rhyme4 ,nothing useless is1 or low2 ,each thing in its place is best2 ,and what seems but idle show ,strengthens and supports the rest4 ,for the structure that we raise1 ,time is with materials filled2 ,our to-days and yesterdays ,are the blocks with which we build4 ,truly shape and fasten these2 ,leave no yawning gaps between2 ,think not1 because no man sees1 ,such things will remain unseen4 ,in the elder days of art1 ,builders wrought with greatest care ,each minute and unseen part2 ,for the gods see everywhere4 ,let us do our work as well ,both the unseen and the seen2 ,make the house where ,god may dwell ,beautiful1 entire1 and clean4 ,else our lives are incomplete1 ,standing in these walls of ,time1 ,broken stairways1 where the feet ,stumble as they seek to climb4 ,build to-day1 then1 strong and sure1 ,with a firm and ample base2 ,and ascending and secure ,shall to-morrow find its place4 ,thus alone can we attain ,to those turrets1 where the eye ,sees the world as one vast plain1 ,and one boundless reach of sky4 --,longfellow4 ,,polonius' ,,advice ,,to ,,laertes4 ,give thy thoughts no tongue1 ,nor any unproportioned thought his act4 ,be thou familiar1 but by no means vulgar4 ,the friends thou hast and their adoption tried1 ,grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel2 ,but do not dull thy palm with entertainment ,of each new-hatched1 unfledged comrade4 ,beware ,of entrance to a quarrel2 but being in1 ,bear it that the opposer may beware of thee4 ,give every man thine ear2 but few thine voice2 ,take each man's censure2 but reserve thy judgment4 ,costly thy habit as thy purse can buy1 ,but not expressed in fancy2 rich1 not gaudy2 ,for the apparel oft proclaims the man2 ,and they in ,france1 of the best rank and station1 ,are of a most select and generous chief in that4 ,neither a borrower nor a lender be2 ,for a loan oft loses both itself and friend4 ,and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry4 ,this above all--to thine own self be true1 ,and it must follow1 as the night the day1 ,thou can'st not then be false to any man4 --,shakespeare4 ,,thanatopsis4 ,to him who in the love of nature holds ,communion with her visible forms1 she speaks ,a various language2 for his gayer hours ,she has a voice of gladness1 and a smile ,and eloquence of beauty1 and she glides ,into his darker musings1 with a mild ,and healing sympathy1 that steals away ,their sharpness1 ere he is aware4 ,when thoughts ,of the last bitter hour come like a blight ,over thy spirit1 and sad images ,of the stern agony1 and shroud1 and pall1 ,and breathless darkness1 and the narrow house1 ,make thee to shudder1 and grow sick at heart-- ,go forth1 under the open sky1 and list ,to ,nature's teachings1 while from all around-- ,earth and her waters1 and the depths of air-- ,comes a still voice--,yet a few days1 and thee ,the all-beholding sun shall see no more ,in all his course2 nor yet in the cold ground1 ,where thy pale form was laid1 with many tears1 ,nor in the embrace of ocean1 shall exist ,thy image4 ,earth1 that nourished thee1 shall claim ,thy growth1 to be resolved to earth again1 ,and1 lost each human trace1 surrendering up ,thine individual being shalt thou go ,to mix forever with the elements4 ,to be a brother to the insensible rock ,and to the sluggish clod1 which the rude swain ,turns with his share1 and treads upon4 ,the oak ,shall send his roots abroad1 and pierce thy mould4 ,yet not to thine eternal resting-place ,shalt thou retire alone--nor couldst thou wish ,couch more magnificent4 ,thou shalt lie down ,with patriarchs of the infant world--with kings1 ,the powerful of the earth--the wise1 the good1 ,fair forms1 and hoary seers of ages past1 ,all in one mighty sepulchre4 ,the hills ,book-ribbed and ancient as the sun--the vales ,stretching in pensive quietness between2 ,the venerable woods--rivers that move ,in majesty1 and the complaining brooks ,that make the meadows green2 and1 poured round all1 ,old ocean's gray and melancholy waste-- ,are but the solemn decorations all ,of the great tomb of man4 ,the golden sun1 ,the planets1 all the infinite host of heaven1 ,are shining on the sad abodes of death1 ,through the still lapse of ages4 ,all that tread ,the globe are but a handful to the tribes ,that slumber in its bosom4 ,take the wings ,of morning--and the ,barcan desert pierce1 ,or lose thyself in the continuous woods ,where rolls the ,oregon1 and hears no sound1 ,save his own dashings--yet--the dead are there2 ,and millions in those solitudes1 since first ,the flight of years began1 have laid them down ,in their last sleep--the dead reign there alone4 ,so shalt thou rest--and what if thou withdraw ,unheeded by the living--and no friend ,take note of thy departure8 ,all that breathe ,will share thy destiny4 ,the gay will laugh ,when thou art gone1 the solemn brood of care ,plod on1 and each one as before will chase ,his favorite phantom2 yet all these shall leave ,their mirth and their employment1 and shall come ,and make their bed with thee4 ,as the long train ,of ages glide away1 the sons of men1 ,the youth in life's green spring1 and he who goes ,in the full strength of years1 matron1 and maid1 ,and the sweet babe1 and the gray-headed man1 ,shall one by one be gathered to thy side1 ,by those1 who in their turn shall follow them4 ,so live1 that when thy summons comes to join ,the innumerable caravan1 that moves ,to that mysterious realm1 where each shall take ,his chamber in the silent halls of death1 ,thou go not1 like the quarry-slave at night1 ,scourged to his dungeon1 but1 sustained and soothed ,by an unfaltering trust1 approach thy grave1 ,like one who wraps the drapery of his couch ,about him1 and lies down to pleasant dreams4 --,bryant4 ,,the ,,american ,,flag4 ,when ,freedom1 from her mountain height1 ,unfurled her standard to the air1 ,she tore the azure robe of night1 ,and set the stars of glory there4 ,she mingled with its gorgeous dyes ,the milky baldric of the skies1 ,and striped its pure1 celestial white ,with streakings of the morning light2 ,then1 from his mansion in the sun1 ,she called her eagle bearer down1 ,and gave into his mighty hand ,the symbol of her chosen land4 ,majestic monarch of the cloud6 ,who rear'st aloft thy regal form1 ,to hear the tempest trumpings loud ,and see the lightning lances driven1 ,when strive the warriors of the storm1 ,and rolls the thunder-drum of heaven-- ,child of the sun6 to thee 'tis given ,to guard the banner of the free2 ,to hover in the sulphur smoke1 ,to ward away the battle-stroke2 ,and bid its blending shine afar1 ,like rainbows on the clouds of war1 ,the harbingers of victory6 ,flag of the brave6 thy folds shall fly1 ,the sign of hope and triumph high6 ,when speaks the signal trumpet tone1 ,and the long line comes gleaming on1 ,ere yet the life-blood1 warm and wet1 ,has dimmed the glistening bayonet1 ,each soldier eye shall brightly turn ,to where thy sky-born glories burn1 ,and1 as his springing steps advance1 ,catch war and vengeance from the glance2 ,and when the cannon-mouthings loud ,heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud1 ,and gory sabres rise and fall1 ,like shoots of flame on midnight's pall1 ,then shall thy meteor glances glow1 ,and cowering foes shall shrink beneath ,each gallant arm that strikes below ,that lovely messenger of death4 ,flag of the seas6 on ocean wave ,thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave1 ,when death1 careering on the gale1 ,sweeps darkly round the bellied sail1 ,and frightened waves rush wildly back ,before the broadside's reeling rack2 ,each dying wanderer of the sea ,shall look at once to heaven and thee1 ,and smile to see thy splendors fly ,in triumph o'er his closing eye4 ,flag of the free heart's hope and home1 ,by angel hands to valor given1 ,thy stars have lit the welkin dome1 ,and all thy hues were born in heaven4 ,forever float that standard sheet6 ,where breathes the foe but falls before us1 ,with ,freedom's soil beneath our feet1 ,and ,freedom's banner streaming o'er us6 --,joseph ,rodman ,drake4 ,,speech ,,at ,,the ,,dedication ,,of ,,the ,,national ,,cemetery ,,at ,,gettysburg4 ,,november #ah1 #ahfc4 ,fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation1 conceived in liberty1 and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal4 ,now we are engaged in a great civil war1 testing whether that nation1 or any nation so conceived and so dedicated1 can long endure4 ,we are met on a great battlefield of that war4 ,we have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live4 ,it is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this4 ,but in a larger sense we cannot dedicate1 we cannot consecrate1 we cannot hallow this ground4 ,the brave men1 living and dead1 who struggled here1 have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract4 ,the world will little note1 nor long remember what we say here2 but it can never forget what they did here4 ,it is for us1 the living1 rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced4 ,it is rather for us1 to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us1 that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion2 that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain2 that this nation1 under ,god1 shall have a new birth of freedom1 and that government of the people1 by the people1 and for the people1 shall not perish from the earth4 --,president ,lincoln4 ,,to ,a ,,skylark4 ,hail to thee1 blithe spirit-- ,bird thou never wert-- ,that from heaven1 or near it ,pourest thy full heart ,in profuse strains of unpremeditated art4 ,higher still and higher ,from the earth thou springest1 ,like a cloud of fire3 ,the blue deep thou wingest1 ,and singing still dost soar1 and soaring ever singest4 ,in the golden lightning ,of the setting sun1 ,o'er which clouds are bright'ning1 ,thou dost float and run2 ,like an embodied joy whose race is just begun4 ,the pale purple even ,melts around thy flight2 ,like a star of heaven1 ,in the broad daylight1 ,thou art unseen1 but yet ,i hear thy shrill delight4 ,keen as are the arrows ,of that silvery sphere1 ,whose intense lamp narrows ,in the white dawn clear1 ,until we hardly see1 we feel1 that it is there4 ,all the earth and air ,with thy voice is loud1 ,as1 when night is bare1 ,from one lonely cloud ,the moon rains out her beams1 and heaven is overflow'd4 ,what thou art we know not2 ,what is most like thee6 ,from rainbow clouds there flow not ,drops so bright to see1 ,as from thy presence showers a rain of melody4 ,like a poet hidden ,in the light of thought1 ,singing hymns unbidden1 ,till the world is wrought ,to sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not2 ,like a high-born maiden ,in a palace tower1 ,soothing her love-laden ,soul in secret hour ,with music sweet as love1 which overflows her bower2 ,like a glow-worm golden1 ,in a dell of dew1 ,scattering unbeholden ,its aerial hue ,among the flowers and grass1 which screen it from the view2 ,like a rose embowered ,in its own green leaves1 ,by warm winds deflower'd1 ,till the scent it gives ,makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves4 ,sound of vernal showers ,on the twinkling grass1 ,rain-awakened flowers1 ,all that ever was ,joyous1 and fresh and clear1 thy music doth surpass4 ,teach us1 sprite or bird1 ,what sweet thoughts are thine2 ,i have never heard ,praise of lore or wine ,that panted forth a flood of rapture so divine4 ,chorus hymeneal1 ,or triumphant chant1 ,match'd with thine1 would be all ,but an empty vaunt-- ,a thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want4 ,what object are the fountains ,of thy happy strain8 ,what fields1 or waves1 or mountains8 ,what shapes of sky or plain8 ,what love of thine own kind8 ,what ignorance of pain8 ,with thy clear1 keen joyance ,languor cannot be2 ,shadow of annoyance ,never came near thee2 ,thou lovest1 but ne'er knew love's sad satiety4 ,waking1 or asleep1 ,thou of death must deem ,things more true and deep ,than we mortals dream1 ,or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream8 ,we look before and after1 ,and pine for what is not2 ,our sincerest laughter ,with some pain is fraught2 ,our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought4 ,yet if we could scorn ,hate1 and pride and fear1 ,if we were things born ,not to shed a tear1 ,i know not how thy joy we ever should come near4 ,better than all measures ,of delightful sound1 ,better than all treasures ,that in books are found1 ,thy skill to poet were1 thou scorner of the ground6 ,teach me half the gladness ,that thy brain must know1 ,such harmonious madness ,from my lips would flow1 ,the world should listen then1 as ,i am listening now4 --,percy ,bysshe ,shelley4 ,,the ,,launching ,,of ,,the ,,ship4 ,then the ,master1 ,with a gesture of command1 ,waved his hand2 ,and at the word1 ,loud and sudden there was heard1 ,all around them and below1 ,the sound of hammers1 blow on blow1 ,knocking away the shores and spurs4 ,and see6 she stirs6 ,she starts--she moves--she seems to feel ,the thrill of life along her keel1 ,and1 spurning with her foot the ground1 ,with one exulting1 joyous bound1 ,she leaps into the ocean's arms6 ,and lo6 from the assembled crowd ,there rose a shout1 prolonged and loud1 ,that to the ocean seemed to say1 ,take her1 ,o bridegroom1 old and gray4 ,take her to thy protecting arms1 ,with all her youth and all her charms6 ,how beautiful she is6 ,how fair ,she lies within those arms1 that press ,her form with many a soft caress ,of tenderness and watchful care6 ,sail forth into the sea1 ,o ship6 ,through wind and wave1 right onward steer6 ,the moistened eye1 the trembling lip1 ,are not the signs of doubt or fear4 ,sail forth into the sea of life1 ,o gentle1 loving1 trusting wife1 ,and safe from all adversity ,upon the bosom of that sea ,thy comings and thy goings be6 ,for gentleness and love and trust ,prevail o'er angry wave and gust2 ,and in the wreck of noble lives ,something immortal still survives6 ,thou1 too1 sail on1 ,o ,ship of ,state6 ,sail on1 ,o ,union1 strong and great6 ,humanity with all its fears1 ,with all the hopes of future years1 ,is hanging breathless on thy fate6 ,we know what ,master laid thy keel1 ,what ,workmen wrought thy ribs of steel1 ,who made each mast1 and sail1 and rope1 ,what anvils rang1 what hammers beat1 ,in what a forge and what a heat ,were shaped the anchors of thy hope6 ,fear not each sudden sound and shock1 ',tis of the wave and not the rock2 ',tis but the flapping of the sail1 ,and not a rent made by the gale6 ,in spite of rock and tempest's roar1 ,in spite of false lights on the shore1 ,sail on1 nor fear to breast the sea6 ,our hearts1 our hopes1 are all with thee1 ,our hearts our hopes1 our prayers1 our tears1 ,our faith triumphant o'er our fears1 ,are all with thee1--are all with thee6 --,longfellow4 ,,recessional4 ,god of our fathers1 known of old-- ,lord of our far-flung battle line-- ,beneath ,whose awful ,hand we hold ,dominion over palm and pine-- ,lord ,god of ,hosts1 be with us yet1 ,lest we forget--lest we forget6 ,the tumult and the shouting dies-- ,the captains and the kings depart1 ,still stands ,thine ancient sacrifice1 ,an humble and a contrite heart4 ,lord ,god of ,hosts1 be with us yet1 ,lest we forget--lest we forget6 ,far-called our navies melt away-- ,on dune and headland sinks the fire-- ,lo1 all our pomp of yesterday ,is one with ,nineveh and ,tyre6 ,judge of the nations1 spare us yet1 ,lest we forget--lest we forget6 ,if1 drunk with sight of power1 we loose ,wild tongues that have not ,thee in awe-- ,such boasting as the ,gentiles use1 ,or lesser breeds without the ,law-- ,lord ,god of ,hosts1 be with us yet1 ,lest we forget--lest we forget6 ,for heathen heart that puts her trust ,in reeking tube and iron shard-- ,all valiant dust that builds on dust1 ,and guarding calls not ,thee to guard-- ,for frantic boast and foolish word1 ,thy mercy on ,thy people1 ,lord6 ,amen4 --,kipling4 ,,the ,,ladder ,,of ,,st4 ,,augustine4 ,saint ,augustine6 well hast thou said1 ,that of our vices we can frame ,a ladder1 if we will but tread ,beneath our feet each deed of shame4 ,all common things1 each day's events1 ,that with the hour begin and end1 ,our pleasures and our discontents1 ,are rounds by which we may ascend4 ,the low desire1 the base design1 ,that makes another's virtues less2 ,the revel of the ruddy wine1 ,and all occasions of excess2 ,the longing for ignoble things2 ,the strife for triumph more than truth2 ,the hardening of the heart1 that brings ,irreverence for the dreams of youth2 ,all thoughts of ill2 all evil deeds1 ,that have their root in thoughts of ill2 ,whatever hinders or impedes ,the action of the nobler will4 ,all these must first be trampled down ,beneath our feet1 if we would gain ,in the bright fields of fair renown ,the right of eminent domain4 ,we have not wings1 we cannot soar2 ,but we have feet to scale and climb ,by slow degrees1 by more and more1 ,the cloudy summits of our time4 ,the mighty pyramids of stone ,that wedge-like cleave the desert airs1 ,when nearer seen1 and better known1 ,are but gigantic flights of stairs4 ,the distant mountains1 that uprear ,their solid bastions to the skies1 ,are crossed by pathways1 that appear ,as we to higher levels rise4 ,the heights by great men reached and kept ,were not attained by sudden flight1 ,but they1 while their companions slept1 ,were toiling upward in the night4 ,standing on what too long we bore ,with shoulders bent and downcast eyes1 ,we may discern--unseen before-- ,a path to higher destinies4 ,nor deem the irrevocable ,past ,as wholly wasted1 wholly vain1 ,if1 rising on its wrecks1 at last ,to something nobler we attain4 --,longfellow4 ,,the ,,chambered ,,nautilus4#ce ,this is the ship of pearl1 which1 poets feign1 ,sails the unshadowed main1-- ,the venturous bark that flings ,on the sweet summer wind its purpled wings ,in gulfs enchanted1 where the ,siren sings1 ,and coral reefs lie bare1 ,where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair4 ,its webs of living gauze no more unfurl2 ,wrecked is the ship of pearl6 ,and every chambered cell1 ,where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell1 ,as the frail tenant shaped his growing shell1 ,before thee lies revealed1-- ,its irised ceiling rent1 its sunless crypt unsealed6 ,year after year beheld the silent toil ,that spread his lustrous coil2 ,still1 as the spiral grew1 ,he left the past year's dwelling for the new1 ,stole with soft step its shining archway through1 ,built up its idle door1 ,stretched in his last-found home1 and knew the old no more4 ,thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee1 ,child of the wandering sea4 ,cast from her lap1 forlorn6 ,from thy dead lips a clearer note is born ,than ever ,triton blew from wreathed horn6 ,while on mine ear it rings1 ,through the deep caves of thought ,i hear a voice that sings3-- ,build thee more stately mansions1 ,o my soul1 ,as the swift seasons roll6 ,leave thy low-vaulted past6 ,let each new temple1 nobler than the last1 ,shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast1 ,till thou at length art free1 ,leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea6 --,oliver ,wendell ,holmes4 #ce ,copyrighted by ,houghton1 ,mifflin ,co4 ,reprinted by permission of the publishers4 ,,president ,,william ,mc,k,i,n,l,e,y ,,to ,,the ,,young ,,people ,,of ,,oakland1 ,,cal4 ,,may #bd1 #aija ,there is nothing better for the ,united ,states than ,,educated ,,citizenship2 and1 my young friends1 there never was a time in all our history when knowledge was so essential to success as now4 ,everything requires knowledge4 ,what we want of the young people now is exact knowledge4 ,you want to know whatever you undertake to do a little better than anybody else4 ,and if you will do that1 then there is nothing that is not within your reach4 ,and what you want besides education is ,,character--,,character6 ,there is nothing that will serve a young man or an old man so well as good character4 ,and did you ever think that it is just as easy to form a good habit as it is to form a bad one2 and it is just as hard to break a good habit as it is to break a bad one8 ,so get the good ones and keep them4 ,with ,,education and ,,character you will not only achieve individual success1 but you will contribute largely to the progress of your country4 ,,brief ,,memory ,,gems ,,and ,,proverbs4 ,,first ,,and ,,second ,,grades4 ,if at first you don't succeed1 ,try1 try again4 ,be kind and be gentle ,to those who are old1 ,for dearer is kindness ,and better than gold4 ,sing1 pretty birds1 and build your nests1 ,the fields are green1 the skies are clear2 ,sing1 pretty birds1 and build your nests1 ,the world is glad to have you here4 ,a friend in need is a friend indeed4 ,if a task is once begun1 ,never leave it till it's done2 ,be the labor great or small1 ,do it well or not at all4 ,whatever way the wind doth blow1 ,some heart is glad to have it so1 ,so blow it east1 or blow it west1 ,the wind that blows--that wind is best4 ,dare to do right6 dare to be true6 ,for you have a work no other can do2 ,do it so bravely1 so kindly1 so well1 ,angels will hasten the story to tell4 ,to do to others as ,i would ,that they should do to me ,will make me honest1 kind and good1 ,as children ought to be4 ,god make my life a little light1 ,within the world to glow3 ,a little flame that burneth bright ,wherever ,i may go4 ,better be an hour too early than a minute too late4 ,help one another1 the snowflakes said1 ,as they cuddled down in their fleecy bed1 ,one of us here would not be felt1 ,one of us here would quickly melt2 ,but ,i'll help you and you help me1 ,and then what a splendid drift there'll be4 ,by-and-by is a very bad boy1 ,shun him at once and forever2 ,for they who travel with ,by-and-by ,soon come to the house of ,never4 ,politeness is to do and say ,the kindest things in the kindest way4 ,and isn't it1 my boy or girl1 ,the wisest1 bravest plan1 ,whatever comes1 or doesn't come1 ,to do the best you can8 ,,third ,,and ,,fourth ,,grades4 ,beautiful hands are those that do ,work that is earnest1 brave and true ,moment by moment1 the long day through4 ,kind hearts are gardens1 ,kind thoughts are roots1 ,kind words are blossoms1 ,kind deeds are fruits2 ,love is the sweet sunshine ,that warms into life1 ,for only in darkness ,grow hatred and strife4 ,be good1 dear child1 and let who will be clever2 ,do noble deeds1 not dream them all day long2 ,and so make life1 death1 and that vast forever ,one grand1 sweet song4 --,kingsley4 ,whene'er a task is set for you ,don't idly sit and view it1-- ,nor be content to wish it done2 ,begin at once and do it4 ,look up and not down1 look forward and not back1 look out and not in1 and lend a hand4 --,hale4 ,this world is not so bad a world ,as some would like to make it2 ,though whether good or whether bad1 ,depends on how we take it4 --,m4 ,w4 ,beck4 ,let us1 then1 be up and doing1 ,with a heart for any fate2 ,still achieving1 still pursuing1 ,learn to labor and to wait4 --,longfellow4 ,dare to be true1 nothing can need a lie2 ,a fault which needs it most grows two thereby4 --,george ,herbert4 ,if wisdom's ways you'd wisely seek1 ,five things observe with care1-- ,of whom you speak1 to whom you speak1 ,and how1 and when1 and where4 ,cowards are cruel1 but the brave ,love mercy1 and delight to save4 --,gay4 ,if there is a virtue in the world at which we should always aim1 it is cheerfulness4 --,bulwer ,lytton4 ',tis distance lends enchantment to the view ,and clothes the mountain with its azure hue4 --,campbell4 ,give fools their gold and knaves their power1 ,let fortune's bubble rise and fall2 ,who sows a field1 or trains a flower1 ,or plants a tree is more than all4 --,whittier4 ,our to-days and yesterdays ,are the blocks with which we build4 --,longfellow4 ,too low they build who build beneath the stars4 --,young4 ,errors1 like straws upon the surface flow2 ,he who would seek for pearls must dive below4 --,dryden4 ,the cross1 if rightly borne1 shall be ,no burden1 but support to thee4 --,whittier4 ,oh1 deem it not an idle thing ,a pleasant word to speak2 ,the face you wear1 the thoughts you bring1 ,a heart may heal or break4 ,lives of great men all remind us ,we can make our lives sublime1-- ,and1 departing1 leave behind us ,footprints on the sands of time4 ,one by one thy duties wait thee1 ,let thy whole strength go to each2 ,let no future dreams elate thee1-- ,learn thou first what these can teach4 ,,fifth ,,and ,,sixth ,,grades4 ,count that day lost whose low descending sun ,views from thy hand no worthy action done4 --,robart4 ,honor and shame from no condition rise2 ,act well your part2 there all the honor lies4 --,pope4 ,success does not consist in never making blunders1 but in never making the same one a second time4 --,shaw4 ,whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well4 --,chesterfield4 ,one cannot always be a hero1 but one can always be a man4 --,goethe4 ,the heights by great men reached and kept1 ,were not attained by sudden flight2 ,but they1 while their companions slept1 ,were toiling upward in the night4 --,longfellow4 ,all that's great and good is done ,just by patient trying4 --,phoebe ,cary4 ,no star is lost we ever once have seen3 ,we always may be what we might have been4 --,adelaide ,proctor4 ,often in a wooden house a golden room we find4 --,longfellow4 ,too much of joy is sorrowful1 ,so cares must needs abound1 ,the vine that bears too many flowers ,will trail upon the ground4 --,alice ,cary4 ,life is too short for aught but high endeavor4 --,ella ,wheeler ,wilcox4 ,to climb steep hills requires slow pace at first4 --,shakespeare4 ,cloud and sun together make the year2 ,without some storms no rainbow could appear4 --,alice ,cary4 ,the noblest service comes from nameless hands1 ,and the best servant does his work unseen4 --,oliver ,wendell ,holmes4 ,he who seeks to pluck the stars ,will lose the jewels at his feet4 --,phoebe ,cary4 ,for he who is honest is noble1 ,whatever his fortunes or birth4 --,alice ,cary4 ,there's never a leaf or a blade too mean ,to be some happy creature's palace4 --,james ,russell ,lowell4 ,no endeavor is in vain4 ,its reward is in the doing2 ,and the rapture of pursuing ,is the prize the vanquished gain4 --,longfellow4 ,press on6 if once and twice thy feet ,slip back and stumble1 harder try4 --,benjamin4 ,dare to do right2 dare to be true2 ,the failings of others can never save you2 ,stand by your conscience1 your honor1 your faith-- ,stand like a hero1 and battle till death6 ,he that is slow to anger is better than the mighty2 and he that ruleth his spirit1 than he that taketh a city4 --,bible4 ,he prayeth best who loveth best ,all things1 both great and small2 ,for the dear ,god who loveth us1 ,he made and loveth all4 --,coleridge4 ,hours are golden links1 ,god's token1 ,reaching heaven1 but one by one ,take them2 lest the chain be broken ,ere the pilgrimage be done4 --,a4 ,a4 ,proctor4 ,there is a lesson in each flower1 ,a story in each stream and bower2 ,on every herb on which we tread1 ,are written words which1 rightly read1 ,will lead us from earth's fragrant sod ,to hope and holiness and ,god4 ,oh1 many a shaft at random sent1 ,finds mark the archer little meant6 ,and many a word at random spoken1 ,may soothe1 or wound1 a heart that's broken4 --,scott4 ,,seventh ,,and ,,eighth ,,grades4 ,to thine own self be true1 ,and it must follow1 as the night the day1 ,thou canst not then be false to any man4 --,shakespeare4 ,be noble6 and the nobleness that lies ,in other men1 sleeping but never dead1 ,will rise in majesty to meet thine own4 --,lowell4 ,what must of necessity be done1 you can always find out how to do4 --,ruskin4 ,he fails not who makes truth his cause1 ,nor bends to win the crowd's applause1 ,he fails not--he who stakes his all ,upon the right and dares to fall4 --,richard ,watson ,gilder4 ,trust no ,future1 howe'er pleasant6 ,let the dead ,past bury its dead6 ,act1--act in the living ,present6 ,heart within and ,god o'erhead6 --,longfellow4 ,tell me not in mournful numbers1 ,life is but an empty dream6 ,for the soul is dead that slumbers1 ,and things are not what they seem4 --,longfellow4 ,be just and fear not2 let all the ends thou aimest at1 be thy country's1 thy ,god's1 and truth's4 --,shakespeare4 ,for of all sad words of tongue or pen-- ,the saddest are these3 ,it might have been6 --,whittier4 ,truth crushed to earth shall rise again2 ,the eternal years of ,god are hers2 ,but error1 wounded1 writhes with pain1 ,and dies among his worshippers4 --,bryant4 ,flower in the crannied wall1 ,i pluck you out of the crannies2-- ,hold you here1 root and all1 in my hand1 ,little flower1--but if ,i could understand ,what you are1 root and all--and all in all1 ,i should know what ,god and man is4 --,tennyson4 ,life is the beat possible thing we can make of it4 --,curtis4 ,without a sign his sword the brave man draws1 ,and asks no omen but his country's cause4 --,pope4 ,there's a divinity that shapes our ends1 ,rough-hew them how we will4 --,shakespeare4 ,to be1 or not to be3 that is the question3 ,whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer ,the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune1 ,or to take up arms against a sea of troubles1 ,and by opposing1 end them8 --,shakespeare4 ,whatever makes men good ,christians1 makes them good citizens4 --,webster4 ,our grand business is1 not to see what lies dimly at a distance1 but to do what lies clearly at hand4 --,thomas ,carlyle4 ,with malice toward none1 with charity for all1 with firmness in the right as ,god gives us to see the right4 --,lincoln4 ,full many a gem of purest ray serene ,the dark1 unfathomed caves of ocean bear2 ,full many a flower is born to blush unseen1 ,and waste its sweetness on the desert air4 --,gray4 ,,poor ,,richard',s ,,sayings4 ,god helps them that help themselves4 ,the sleeping fox catches no poultry4 ,what we call time enough always proves little enough4 ,sloth makes all things difficult1 but industry all easy4 ,drive thy business1 let not that drive thee4 ,early to bed and early to rise1 makes a man healthy1 wealthy1 and wise4 ,industry needs not wish4 ,he that lives upon hope will die fasting4 ,he that hath a trade hath an estate1 and he that hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor4 ,have you somewhat to do to-morrow1 do it to-day4 ,god gives all things to industry3 then plough deep while sluggards sleep1 and you will have corn to sell and to keep4 ,keep thy shop1 and thy shop will keep thee4 ,if you would have your business done1 go2 if not1 send4 ,he that by the plough would thrive1 ,himself must either hold or drive4 ,silks and satins1 scarlet and velvets put out the kitchen fire4 ,for want of a nail the shoe was lost2 for want of a shoe the horse was lost2 and for want of a horse the rider was lost4 ,many a little makes a mickle4 ,fools make feasts1 and wise men eat them4 ,wise men learn by others' harms1 fools scarcely by their own4 ,when the well is dry they know the worth of water4 ,pride is as loud a beggar as want1 and a great deal more saucy4 ,a little neglect may breed great mischief4 ,vessels large may venture more1 ,but little boats should keep near shore4 ,what is a butterfly8 at best ,he's but a caterpillar drest2 ,the gaudy fop's his picture just4 ,for age and want save while you may4 ,no morning sun lasts a whole day4 ,rather go to bed supperless than rise in debt4 ,get what you can1 and what you get1 hold1 ',tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold4 ,experience keeps a dear school2 but fools will learn in no other1 and scarce in that2 for it is true we may give advice1 but we cannot give conduct4 ,the key1 often used1 is always bright4 ,but dost thou love life8 then do not waste time1 for that's the stuff life is made of4 ,lost time is never found again4 ,there are no gains without pains4 ,at the workingman's house hunger looks in1 but dares not enter4 ,diligence is the mother of good luck4 ,the cat in gloves catches no mice4 ,by industry and patience the mouse ate into the cable4 ,since thou art not sure of a minute1 throw not away an hour4 ,a workingman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees4 ,it is folly for the frog to swell in order to equal the ox4 ,it is easier to build two chimneys than to keep one in fuel4 ,a fool and his money are soon parted4 ,troubles spring from idleness1 and grievous toils from needless ease4 ,if you would be wealthy think of saving as well as of getting4 99 99 99 99 99 ,transcriber's note3 ,typographical errors and misprints were corrected4 ,the ,table of ,contents was extended to include the speech by ,mc,kinley and the subheadings in the final section ,brief ,memory ,gems and ,proverbs4