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 | Poems for children |  |
6
SPRING.
The alder by the river
Shakes out her powdery curls;
The willow buds in silver
For little boys and girls.
Shakes out her powdery curls;
The willow buds in silver
For little boys and girls.
The little birds fly over,
And O, how sweet they sing!
To tell the happy children
That once again 't is spring.
And O, how sweet they sing!
To tell the happy children
That once again 't is spring.
The gay green grass comes creeping
So soft beneath their feet;
The frogs begin to ripple
A music clear and sweet.
So soft beneath their feet;
The frogs begin to ripple
A music clear and sweet.
And buttercups are coming,
And scarlet columbine,
And in the sunny meadows
The dandelions shine.
And scarlet columbine,
And in the sunny meadows
The dandelions shine.
And just as many daisies
As their soft hands can hold
The little ones may gather,
All fair in white and gold.
As their soft hands can hold
The little ones may gather,
All fair in white and gold.
7
Here blows the warm red clover,
There peeps the violet blue;
O happy little children!
God made them all for you.
There peeps the violet blue;
O happy little children!
God made them all for you.
8
THE BURGOMASTER GULL.
The old-wives sit on the heaving brine,
White-breasted in the sun,
Preening and smoothing their feathers fine,
And scolding, every one.
White-breasted in the sun,
Preening and smoothing their feathers fine,
And scolding, every one.
The snowy kittiwakes overhead,
With beautiful beaks of gold,
And wings of delicate gray outspread,
Float, listening while they scold.
With beautiful beaks of gold,
And wings of delicate gray outspread,
Float, listening while they scold.
And a foolish guillemot, swimming by,
Though heavy and clumsy and dull,
Joins in with a will when he hears their cry
'Gainst the Burgomaster Gull.
Though heavy and clumsy and dull,
Joins in with a will when he hears their cry
'Gainst the Burgomaster Gull.
For every sea-bird, far and near,
With an atom of brains in its skull,
Knows plenty of reasons for hate and fear
Of the Burgomaster Gull.
With an atom of brains in its skull,
Knows plenty of reasons for hate and fear
Of the Burgomaster Gull.
The black ducks gather, with plumes so rich,
And the coots in twinkling lines;
And the swift and slender water-witch,
Whose neck like silver shines;
And the coots in twinkling lines;
And the swift and slender water-witch,
Whose neck like silver shines;
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Big eider-ducks, with their caps pale green
And their salmon-colored vests;
And gay mergansers sailing between,
With their long and glittering crests.
And their salmon-colored vests;
And gay mergansers sailing between,
With their long and glittering crests.
But the loon aloof on the outer edge
Of the noisy meeting keeps,
And laughs to watch them behind the ledge
Where the lazy breaker sweeps.
Of the noisy meeting keeps,
And laughs to watch them behind the ledge
Where the lazy breaker sweeps.
They scream and wheel, and dive and fret,
And flutter in the foam;
And fish and mussels blue they get
To feed their young at home:
And flutter in the foam;
And fish and mussels blue they get
To feed their young at home:
Till hurrying in, the little auk
Brings tidings that benumbs,
And stops at once their clamorous talk,—
“The Burgomaster comes!”
Brings tidings that benumbs,
And stops at once their clamorous talk,—
“The Burgomaster comes!”
And up he sails, a splendid sight!
With “wings like banners” wide,
And eager eyes both big and bright,
That peer on every side.
With “wings like banners” wide,
And eager eyes both big and bright,
That peer on every side.
A lovely kittiwake flying past
With a slippery pollock fine,—
Quoth the Burgomaster, “Not so fast,
My beauty! This is mine!”
With a slippery pollock fine,—
Quoth the Burgomaster, “Not so fast,
My beauty! This is mine!”
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His strong wing strikes with a dizzying shock;
Poor kittiwake, shrieking, flees;
His booty he takes to the nearest rock.
To eat it at his ease.
Poor kittiwake, shrieking, flees;
His booty he takes to the nearest rock.
To eat it at his ease.
The scared birds scatter to left and right,
But the bold buccaneer, in his glee,
Cares little enough for their woe and their fright,—
“'T will be your turn next!” cries he.
But the bold buccaneer, in his glee,
Cares little enough for their woe and their fright,—
“'T will be your turn next!” cries he.
He sees not, hidden behind the rock,
In the sea-weed, a small boat's hull.
Nor dreams he the gunners have spared the flock
For the Burgomaster Gull.
In the sea-weed, a small boat's hull.
Nor dreams he the gunners have spared the flock
For the Burgomaster Gull.
So proudly his dusky wings are spread.
And he launches out on the breeze,—
When lo! what thunder of wrath and dread!
What deadly pangs are these!
And he launches out on the breeze,—
When lo! what thunder of wrath and dread!
What deadly pangs are these!
The red blood drips and the feathers fly,
Down drop the pinions wide;
The robber-chief, with a bitter cry,
Falls headlong in the tide!
Down drop the pinions wide;
The robber-chief, with a bitter cry,
Falls headlong in the tide!
They bear him off with laugh and shout,
The wary birds return,—
From the clove-brown feathers that float about
The glorious news they learn.
The wary birds return,—
From the clove-brown feathers that float about
The glorious news they learn.
11
Then such a tumult fills the place
As never was sung or said;
And all cry, wild with joy, “The base,
Bad Burgomaster 's dead!”
As never was sung or said;
And all cry, wild with joy, “The base,
Bad Burgomaster 's dead!”
And the old-wives sit with their caps so white,
And their pretty beaks so red,
And swing on the billows, and scream with delight,
For the Burgomaster 's dead!
And their pretty beaks so red,
And swing on the billows, and scream with delight,
For the Burgomaster 's dead!
14
CHANTICLEER.
I wake! I feel the day is near;
I hear the red cock crowing!
He cries “'T is dawn!” How sweet and clear
His cheerful call comes to my ear,
While light is slowly growing.
I hear the red cock crowing!
He cries “'T is dawn!” How sweet and clear
His cheerful call comes to my ear,
While light is slowly growing.
The white snow gathers, flake on flake;
I hear the red cock crowing!
Is anybody else awake
To see the winter morning break,
While thick and fast 't is snowing?
I hear the red cock crowing!
Is anybody else awake
To see the winter morning break,
While thick and fast 't is snowing?
I think the world is all asleep;
I hear the red cock crowing!
Out of the frosty pane I peep;
The drifts are piled so wide and deep,
And wild the wind is blowing!
I hear the red cock crowing!
Out of the frosty pane I peep;
The drifts are piled so wide and deep,
And wild the wind is blowing!
Nothing I see has shape or form;
I hear the red cock crowing!
But that dear voice comes through the storm
To greet me in my nest so warm.
As if the sky were glowing!
I hear the red cock crowing!
15
To greet me in my nest so warm.
As if the sky were glowing!
A happy little child, I lie
And hear the red cock crowing
The day is dark. I wonder why
His voice rings out so brave and high,
With gladness overflowing.
And hear the red cock crowing
The day is dark. I wonder why
His voice rings out so brave and high,
With gladness overflowing.
THE WATER-BLOOM.
A child looked up in the summer sky
Where a soft, bright shower had just passed by;
Eastward the dusk rain-curtain hung,
And swiftly across it the rainbow sprung.
Where a soft, bright shower had just passed by;
Eastward the dusk rain-curtain hung,
And swiftly across it the rainbow sprung.
“Papa! papa! what is it?” she cried,
As she gazed with her blue eyes opened wide
At the wonderful arch that bridged the heaven,
Vividly glowing with colors seven.
As she gazed with her blue eyes opened wide
At the wonderful arch that bridged the heaven,
Vividly glowing with colors seven.
“Why, that is the rainbow, darling child,”
And the father down on his baby smiled.
“What makes it, papa?” “The sun, my dear,
That shines on the water-drops so clear.”
And the father down on his baby smiled.
“What makes it, papa?” “The sun, my dear,
That shines on the water-drops so clear.”
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Here was a beautiful mystery!
No more questions to ask had she,
But she thought the garden's loveliest flowers
Had floated upward and caught in the showers—
No more questions to ask had she,
But she thought the garden's loveliest flowers
Had floated upward and caught in the showers—
Rose, violet, orange marigold—
In a ribbon of light on the clouds unrolled!
Red of poppy, and green leaves too,
Sunflower yellow, and larkspur blue.
In a ribbon of light on the clouds unrolled!
Red of poppy, and green leaves too,
Sunflower yellow, and larkspur blue.
A great, wide, wondrous, splendid wreath
It seemed to the little girl beneath;
How did it grow so fast up there,
And suddenly blossom, high in the air?
It seemed to the little girl beneath;
How did it grow so fast up there,
And suddenly blossom, high in the air?
She could not take her eyes from the sight:
“Oh, look!” she cried in her deep delight,
As she watched the glory spanning the gloom,
“Oh, look at the beautiful water-bloom!”
“Oh, look!” she cried in her deep delight,
As she watched the glory spanning the gloom,
“Oh, look at the beautiful water-bloom!”
17
CROCUS.
Oh the dear, delightful soundOf the drops that to the ground
From the eaves rejoicing run
In the February sun!
Drip, drip, drip, they slide and slip
From the icicles' bright tip,
Till they melt the sullen snow
On the garden bed below.
“Bless me! what is all this drumming?”
Cries the crocus, “I am coming!
Pray don't knock so long and loud,
For I'm neither cross nor proud.
But a little sleepy still,
With the winter's lingering chill.
Never mind! 'T is time to wake,
Through the dream at last to break!”
'T is as quickly done as said,
Up she thrusts her golden head,
Looks about with radiant eyes
In a kind of shy surprise,
Tries to say in accents surly,
“Well! you called me very early!”
But she lights with such a smile
All the darksome place the while,
18
Joyfully at sight of her;
Every creature grows more gay
Looking in her face to-day.
She is greeted, “Welcome, dear!
Fresh smile of the hopeful year!
First bright print of Spring's light feet,
Golden crocus, welcome, sweet!”
And she whispers, looking up
From her richly glowing cup,
At the sunny eaves so high
Overhead against the sky,
“Now I' ve come, O sparkling drops,
All your clattering, pattering stops.
And I'm very glad I came,
And you 're not the least to blame
That you hammered at the snow
Till you wakened me below
With your one incessant tune.
I'm not here a bit too soon!”
22
THE BIRDS' ORCHESTRA.
Bobolink shall play the violin,Great applause to win;
Lonely, sweet, and sad, the meadow lark
Plays the oboe. Hark!
That inspired bugle with a soul—
'T is the oriole;
Yellow-bird the clarionet shall play,
Blithe, and clear, and gay.
Purple finch what instrument will suit?
He can play the flute.
Fire-winged blackbirds sound the merry fife,
Soldiers without strife;
And the robins wind the mellow horn
Loudly eve and morn.
Who shall clash the cymbals? Jay and crow;
That is all they know.
Hylas twang their harps so weird and high,
Such a tuneful cry!
And to roll the deep, melodious drum,
Lo! the bull-frogs come!
Then the splendid chorus, who shall sing
Of so fine a thing?
23
Truly, one and all?
Blue-bird, bunting, cat-bird, chickadee
(Phœbe-bird is he),
Swallow, creeper, cross-bill, cuckoo, dove,
Wee wren that I love;
Brisk fly-catcher, finches—what a crowd!
King-bird whistling loud;
Sweet rose-breasted grossbeak, vireo, thrush—
Hear these two, and hush;
Scarlet tanager, song-sparrow small
(Dearer he than all;
At the first sound of his friendly voice
Saddest hearts rejoice),
Redpoll, nuthatch, thrasher, plover gray—
Curlew did I say?
What a jangling all the grakles make!
Is it some mistake?
Anvil chorus yellow-hammers strike,
And the wicked shrike
Harshly creaks like some half-open door;
He can do no more.
24
NIKOLINA.
Oh tell me, little children, have you seen her—
The tiny maid from Norway, Nikolina?
Oh, her eyes are blue as corn flowers 'mid the corn,
And her cheeks are rosy red as skies of morn!
The tiny maid from Norway, Nikolina?
Oh, her eyes are blue as corn flowers 'mid the corn,
And her cheeks are rosy red as skies of morn!
Oh buy the baby's blossoms if you meet her,
And stay with gentle words and looks to greet her;
She'll gaze at you and smile and clasp your hand,
But no word of your speech can understand.
And stay with gentle words and looks to greet her;
She'll gaze at you and smile and clasp your hand,
But no word of your speech can understand.
Nikolina! Swift she turns if any call her,
As she stands among the poppies hardly taller,
Breaking off their flaming scarlet cups for you,
With spikes of slender larkspur, brightly blue.
As she stands among the poppies hardly taller,
Breaking off their flaming scarlet cups for you,
With spikes of slender larkspur, brightly blue.
In her little garden many a flower is growing—
Red, gold, and purple in the soft wind blowing;
But the child that stands amid the blossoms gay
Is sweeter, quainter, brighter even than they.
Red, gold, and purple in the soft wind blowing;
But the child that stands amid the blossoms gay
Is sweeter, quainter, brighter even than they.
Oh tell me, little children, have you seen her—
This baby girl from Norway, Nikolina?
Slowly she 's learning English words, to try
And thank you if her flowers you come to buy.
This baby girl from Norway, Nikolina?
Slowly she 's learning English words, to try
And thank you if her flowers you come to buy.
27
MILKING
Little dun cow to the apple-tree tied,
Chewing the cud of reflection,
I that am milking you, sit by your side,
Lost in a sad retrospection.
Chewing the cud of reflection,
I that am milking you, sit by your side,
Lost in a sad retrospection.
Far o'er the field the tall daisies blush warm,
For rosy the sunset is dying;
Across the still valley, o'er meadow and farm,
The flush of its beauty is lying.
For rosy the sunset is dying;
Across the still valley, o'er meadow and farm,
The flush of its beauty is lying.
White foams the milk in the pail at my feet,
Clearly the robins are calling;
Soft blows the evening wind after the heat,
Cool the long shadows are falling.
Clearly the robins are calling;
Soft blows the evening wind after the heat,
Cool the long shadows are falling.
Little dun cow, 't is so tranquil and sweet!
Are you light-hearted, I wonder?
What do you think about,—something to eat?
On clover and grass do you ponder?
Are you light-hearted, I wonder?
What do you think about,—something to eat?
On clover and grass do you ponder?
I am remembering days that are dead,
And a brown little maid in the gloaming,
Milking her cow, with the west burning red
Over waves that about her were foaming.
And a brown little maid in the gloaming,
Milking her cow, with the west burning red
Over waves that about her were foaming.
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Up from the sad east the deep shadows gloomed
Out of the distance and found her;
Lightly she sang while the solemn sea boomed
Like a great organ around her.
Out of the distance and found her;
Lightly she sang while the solemn sea boomed
Like a great organ around her.
Under the light-house no sweet-brier grew,
Dry was the grass, and no daisies
Waved in the wind, and the flowers were few
That lifted their delicate faces.
Dry was the grass, and no daisies
Waved in the wind, and the flowers were few
That lifted their delicate faces.
But oh, she was happy, and careless, and blest,
Full of the song-sparrow's spirit;
Grateful for life, for the least and the best
Of the blessings that mortals inherit.
Full of the song-sparrow's spirit;
Grateful for life, for the least and the best
Of the blessings that mortals inherit.
Fairer than gardens of Paradise seemed
The desolate spaces of water;
Nature was hers,—clouds that frowned—stars that gleamed,—
What beautiful lessons they taught her!
The desolate spaces of water;
Nature was hers,—clouds that frowned—stars that gleamed,—
What beautiful lessons they taught her!
Would I could find you again, little maid,
Striving with utmost endeavor,—
Could find in my breast that light heart, unafraid,
That has vanished for ever and ever!
Striving with utmost endeavor,—
Could find in my breast that light heart, unafraid,
That has vanished for ever and ever!
29
YELLOW-BIRD.
Yellow-bird, where did you learn that song,
Perched on the trellis where grape-vines clamber,
In and out fluttering, all day long,
With your golden breast bedropped with amber?
Perched on the trellis where grape-vines clamber,
In and out fluttering, all day long,
With your golden breast bedropped with amber?
Where do you hide such a store of delight,
O delicate creature, tiny and slender,
Like a mellow morning sunbeam bright
And overflowing with music tender!
O delicate creature, tiny and slender,
Like a mellow morning sunbeam bright
And overflowing with music tender!
You never learned it at all, the song
Springs from your heart in rich completeness,
Beautiful, blissful, clear and strong,
Steeped in the summer's ripest sweetness.
Springs from your heart in rich completeness,
Beautiful, blissful, clear and strong,
Steeped in the summer's ripest sweetness.
To think we are neighbors of yours! How fine!
Oh what a pleasure to watch you together,
Bringing your fern-down and floss to re-line
The nest worn thin by the winter weather!
Oh what a pleasure to watch you together,
Bringing your fern-down and floss to re-line
The nest worn thin by the winter weather!
Send up your full notes like worshipful prayers;
Yellow-bird, sing while the summer 's before you;
Little you dream that, in spite of their cares,
Here 's a whole family, proud to adore you!
Yellow-bird, sing while the summer 's before you;
Little you dream that, in spite of their cares,
Here 's a whole family, proud to adore you!
35
WARNING.
Take heed, O youth, both brave and bright,Battles there are for you to fight!
Stand up erect and face them all,
Nor turning flee, nor wavering fall.
Of all the world's bewildering gifts,
Take only what the soul uplifts.
Keep firm your hand upon the helm
Lest bitter tempests overwhelm;
And watch lest evil mists should mar
The glory of your morning star,
And robe the glory of the day
You have not reached, in sullen gray.
Choose then, O youth, both bright and brave!
Wilt be a monarch or a slave?
Ah, scorn to take one step below
The paths where truth and honor go!
On manhood's threshold stand, a king,
Demanding all that life can bring
Of lofty thought, of purpose high,
Of beauty and nobility.
Once master of yourself, no fate
Can make your rich world desolate,
And all men shall look up to see
The glory of your victory.
36
THE BUTCHER-BIRD.
I'll tell you a story, children,
The saddest you ever heard,
About Rupert, the pet canary,
And a terrible butcher-bird.
The saddest you ever heard,
About Rupert, the pet canary,
And a terrible butcher-bird.
There was such a blinding snow-storm
One could not see at all.
And all day long the children
Had watched the white flakes fall;
One could not see at all.
And all day long the children
Had watched the white flakes fall;
And when the eldest brothers
Had kissed mamma good-night,
And up the stairs together
Had gone with their bedroom light,
Had kissed mamma good-night,
And up the stairs together
Had gone with their bedroom light,
Of a sudden their two fresh voices
Rang out in a quick surprise,
“Mamma! papa! come quickly
And catch him before he flies!”
Rang out in a quick surprise,
“Mamma! papa! come quickly
And catch him before he flies!”
On a picture-frame perched lightly,
With his head beneath his wing,
They had found a gray bird sitting;
That was a curious thing!
With his head beneath his wing,
They had found a gray bird sitting;
That was a curious thing!
37
Down stairs to the cosy parlor
They brought him, glad to find
For the storm-tossed wanderer shelter;
Not knowing his cruel mind!
They brought him, glad to find
For the storm-tossed wanderer shelter;
Not knowing his cruel mind!
And full of joy were the children
To think he was safe and warm.
And had chosen their house for safety
To hide from the raging storm!
To think he was safe and warm.
And had chosen their house for safety
To hide from the raging storm!
“He shall stay with the pretty Rupert,
And live among mother's flowers,
And he'll sing with our robin and sparrow;”
And they talked about it for hours.
And live among mother's flowers,
And he'll sing with our robin and sparrow;”
And they talked about it for hours.
Alas, in the early morning
There rose a wail and a cry,
And a fluttering wild in the cages,
And Rupert's voice rang high.
There rose a wail and a cry,
And a fluttering wild in the cages,
And Rupert's voice rang high.
We rushed to the rescue swiftly;
Too late! On the shining cage,
The home of the happy Rupert,
All rough with fury and rage,
Too late! On the shining cage,
The home of the happy Rupert,
All rough with fury and rage,
Stood the handsome, horrible stranger,
With black and flashing eye,
And torn almost to pieces
Did poor dead Rupert lie!
With black and flashing eye,
And torn almost to pieces
Did poor dead Rupert lie!
38
Oh, sad was all the household,
And we mourned for Rupert long.
The fierce wild shrike was prisoned
In a cage both dark and strong;
And we mourned for Rupert long.
The fierce wild shrike was prisoned
In a cage both dark and strong;
And would you like, O children,
His final fate to know?
To Agassiz's Museum
That pirate bird did go!
His final fate to know?
To Agassiz's Museum
That pirate bird did go!
39
FERN-SEED.
She filled her shoes with fern-seedThis foolish little Nell,
And in the summer sunshine
Went dancing down the dell.
For whoso treads on fern-seed,—
So fairy stories tell,—
Becomes invisible at once,
So potent is its spell.
A frog mused by the brook-side:
“Can you see me?” she cried;
He leaped across the water.
A flying leap and wide.
“Oh that 's because I asked him!
I must not speak,” she thought,
And skipping o'er the meadow
The shady wood she sought.
The squirrel chattered on the bough,
Nor noticed her at all,
The birds sang high, the birds sang low,
With many a cry and call.
The rabbit nibbled in the grass,
The snake basked in the sun,
The butterflies, like floating flowers,
Wavered and gleamed and shone.
40
The gay grasshoppers danced;
And now and then a cricket sung
And shining beetles glanced.
'T was all because the pretty child
So softly, softly trod,—
You could not hear a foot-fall
Upon the yielding sod.
But she was filled with such delight—
This foolish little Nell!
And with her fern-seed laden shoes,
Danced back across the dell.
“I'll find my mother now,” she thought
“What fun 't will be to call
‘Mamma! Mamma!’ while she can see
No little girl at all!”
She peeped in through the window,
Mamma sat in a dream:
About the quiet sun-steeped house
All things asleep did seem.
She stept across the threshold;
So lightly had she crept,
The dog upon the mat lay still,
And still the kitty slept.
Patient beside her mother's knee
To try her wondrous spell
Waiting she stood, till all at once,
Waking, mamma cried “Nell!
Where have you been? why do you gaze
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“But can you see me, mother dear?”
Poor Nelly faltering cries.
“See you? why not, my little girl?
Why should mamma be blind?”
And pretty Nell unties her shoes,
With fairy fern-seed lined;
She tosses up into the air
A little powdery cloud,
And frowns upon it as it falls,
And murmurs half aloud,
“It was n't true, a word of it,
About the magic spell!
I never will believe again
What fairy stories tell!”
42
THE GREAT WHITE OWL.
He sat aloft on the rocky height,
Snow-white above the snow,
In the winter morning calm and bright,
And I gazed at him, below.
Snow-white above the snow,
In the winter morning calm and bright,
And I gazed at him, below.
He faced the east, where the sunshine streamed
On the singing, sparkling sea,
And he blinked with his yellow eyes, that seemed
All sightless and blank to be.
On the singing, sparkling sea,
And he blinked with his yellow eyes, that seemed
All sightless and blank to be.
The snow-birds swept in a whirling crowd
About him gleefully,
And piped and whistled sweet and loud,
But never a plume stirred he.
About him gleefully,
And piped and whistled sweet and loud,
But never a plume stirred he.
Singing they passed, and away they flew
Through the brilliant atmosphere;
Cloud-like he sat, with the living blue
Of the sky behind him, clear.
Through the brilliant atmosphere;
Cloud-like he sat, with the living blue
Of the sky behind him, clear.
“Give you good-morrow, friend,” I cried.
He wheeled his large round head,
Solemn and stately, from side to side,
But never a word he said.
He wheeled his large round head,
Solemn and stately, from side to side,
But never a word he said.
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“O lonely creature, weird and white,
Why are you sitting there,
Like a glimmering ghost from the still midnight.
In the beautiful morning air?”
Why are you sitting there,
Like a glimmering ghost from the still midnight.
In the beautiful morning air?”
He spurned the rock with his talons strong,
No human speech brooked he;
Like a snow-flake huge he sped along
Swiftly and noiselessly.
No human speech brooked he;
Like a snow-flake huge he sped along
Swiftly and noiselessly.
His wide, slow-waving wings so white,
Heavy and soft did seem;
Yet rapid as a dream his flight,
And silent as a dream.
Heavy and soft did seem;
Yet rapid as a dream his flight,
And silent as a dream.
And when a distant crag he gained,
Bright-twinkling like a star,
He shook his shining plumes, and deigned
To watch me from afar.
Bright-twinkling like a star,
He shook his shining plumes, and deigned
To watch me from afar.
And once again, when the evening-red
Burned dimly in the west,
I saw him motionless, his head
Bent forward on his breast.
Burned dimly in the west,
I saw him motionless, his head
Bent forward on his breast.
Dark and still, 'gainst the sunset sky
Stood out his figure lone;
Crowning the bleak rock far and high,
By sad winds overblown.
Stood out his figure lone;
Crowning the bleak rock far and high,
By sad winds overblown.
44
Did he dream of the ice-fields, stark and drear?
Of his haunts on the Arctic shore?
Or the downy brood in his nest last year
On the coast of Labrador?
Of his haunts on the Arctic shore?
Or the downy brood in his nest last year
On the coast of Labrador?
Had he fluttered the Esquimaux huts among?
How I wished he could speak to me!
Had he sailed on the icebergs, rainbow-hung,
In the open Polar Sea?
How I wished he could speak to me!
Had he sailed on the icebergs, rainbow-hung,
In the open Polar Sea?
Oh many a tale he might have told
Of marvellous sounds and sights.
Where the world lies hopeless and dumb with cold,
Through desolate days and nights.
Of marvellous sounds and sights.
Where the world lies hopeless and dumb with cold,
Through desolate days and nights.
But with folded wings, while the darkness fell.
He sat, nor spake, nor stirred;
And charmed as if by a subtile spell,
I mused on the wondrous Bird.
He sat, nor spake, nor stirred;
And charmed as if by a subtile spell,
I mused on the wondrous Bird.
45
THE BLIND LAMB.
T was summer, and softly the ocean
Sang, sparkling in light and heat,
And over the water and over the land
The warm south wind blew sweet.
Sang, sparkling in light and heat,
And over the water and over the land
The warm south wind blew sweet.
And the children played in the sunshine,
And shouted and scampered in glee
O'er the grassy slopes, or the weed-strewn beach,
Or rocked on the dreaming sea.
And shouted and scampered in glee
O'er the grassy slopes, or the weed-strewn beach,
Or rocked on the dreaming sea.
They had roamed the whole bright morning,
The troop of merry boys,
And in they flocked at noontide,
With a clamor of joyful noise.
The troop of merry boys,
And in they flocked at noontide,
With a clamor of joyful noise.
And they bore among them gently
A wee lamb, white as snow;
And, “O mamma, mamma, he 's blind!
He can't tell where to go.
A wee lamb, white as snow;
And, “O mamma, mamma, he 's blind!
He can't tell where to go.
“And we found him lost and lonely.
And we brought him home to you,
And we 're going to feed him and care for him!”
Cried the eager little crew.
And we brought him home to you,
And we 're going to feed him and care for him!”
Cried the eager little crew.
46
“Look, how he falls over everything!”
And they set him on his feet,
And aimlessly he wandered,
With a low and mournful bleat.
And they set him on his feet,
And aimlessly he wandered,
With a low and mournful bleat.
Some sign of pity he seemed to ask,
And he strove to draw more near,
When he felt the touch of a human hand,
Or a kind voice reach his ear.
And he strove to draw more near,
When he felt the touch of a human hand,
Or a kind voice reach his ear.
They tethered him in a grassy space
Hard by the garden gate,
And with sweet fresh milk they fed him,
And cared for him early and late.
Hard by the garden gate,
And with sweet fresh milk they fed him,
And cared for him early and late.
But as the golden days went on,
Forgetful the children grew,
They wearied of tending the poor blind lamb,
No longer a plaything new.
Forgetful the children grew,
They wearied of tending the poor blind lamb,
No longer a plaything new.
And so each day I changed his place
Within the garden fence,
And fed him morn and noon and eve,
And was his Providence.
Within the garden fence,
And fed him morn and noon and eve,
And was his Providence.
And he knew the rustle of my gown,
And every lightest tone,
And when he heard me pass, straightway
He followed o'er stock and stone.
And every lightest tone,
And when he heard me pass, straightway
He followed o'er stock and stone.
49
One dark and balmy evening,
When the south wind breathed of rain,
I went to lead my pet within,
And found but a broken chain.
When the south wind breathed of rain,
I went to lead my pet within,
And found but a broken chain.
And a terror fell upon me,
For round on every side
The circling sea was sending in
The strength of the full flood-tide.
For round on every side
The circling sea was sending in
The strength of the full flood-tide.
I called aloud and listened,
I knew not where to seek;
Out of the dark the warm wet wind
Blue soft against my cheek.
I knew not where to seek;
Out of the dark the warm wet wind
Blue soft against my cheek.
And naught was heard but the sound of waves
Crowding against the shore.
Over the dewy grass I ran,
And called aloud once more.
Crowding against the shore.
Over the dewy grass I ran,
And called aloud once more.
What reached me out of the distance?
Surely, a piteous bleat!
I threw my long dress over my arm,
And followed with flying feet.
Surely, a piteous bleat!
I threw my long dress over my arm,
And followed with flying feet.
Down to the edge of the water,
Calling again and again,
Answered so clearly, near and more near,
By that tremulous cry of pain!
Calling again and again,
Answered so clearly, near and more near,
By that tremulous cry of pain!
50
I crept to the end of the rocky ledge,
Black lay the water wide;
Up from among the rippling waves
Came the shivering voice that cried.
Black lay the water wide;
Up from among the rippling waves
Came the shivering voice that cried.
I could not see, but I answered him;
And, stretching a rescuing hand,
I felt in the darkness his sea-soaked wool,
And drew him in to the land.
And, stretching a rescuing hand,
I felt in the darkness his sea-soaked wool,
And drew him in to the land.
And the poor little creature pressed so close,
Distracted with delight,
While I dried the brine from his dripping fleece
With my apron soft and white.
Distracted with delight,
While I dried the brine from his dripping fleece
With my apron soft and white.
Close in my arms I gathered him
More glad than tongue can tell,
And he laid on my shoulder his pretty head,
He knew that all was well.
More glad than tongue can tell,
And he laid on my shoulder his pretty head,
He knew that all was well.
And I thought as I bore him swiftly back,
Content, close folded thus,
Of the Heavenly Father compassionate,
Whose pity shall succor us.
Content, close folded thus,
Of the Heavenly Father compassionate,
Whose pity shall succor us.
I thought of the arms of mercy
That clasp the world about,
And that not one of His children
Shall perish in dread and doubt:
That clasp the world about,
And that not one of His children
Shall perish in dread and doubt:
51
For He hears the voices that cry to Him,
And near His love shall draw:
With help and comfort He waits for us,
The Light, and the Life, and the Law!
And near His love shall draw:
With help and comfort He waits for us,
The Light, and the Life, and the Law!
54
THE SCARECROW.
The farmer looked at his cherry-tree,
With thick buds clustered on every bough;
I wish I could cheat the robins,” said he;
“If somebody only would show me how!
With thick buds clustered on every bough;
I wish I could cheat the robins,” said he;
“If somebody only would show me how!
I'll make a terrible scarecrow grim,
With threatening arms and with bristling head,
And up in the tree I'll fasten him
To frighten them half to death,” he said.
With threatening arms and with bristling head,
And up in the tree I'll fasten him
To frighten them half to death,” he said.
He fashioned a scarecrow tattered and torn—
Oh, 't was a horrible thing to see!
And very early, one summer morn,
He set it up in his cherry-tree.
Oh, 't was a horrible thing to see!
And very early, one summer morn,
He set it up in his cherry-tree.
The blossoms were white as the light sea-foam,
The beautiful tree was a lovely sight,
But the scarecrow stood there so much at home
All the birds flew screaming away in fright.
The beautiful tree was a lovely sight,
But the scarecrow stood there so much at home
All the birds flew screaming away in fright.
The robins, who watched him every day,
Heads held aslant, keen eyes so bright!
Surveying the monster, began to say,
“Why should this monster our prospects blight?
Heads held aslant, keen eyes so bright!
Surveying the monster, began to say,
“Why should this monster our prospects blight?
55
“He never moves round for the roughest weather,
He 's a harmless, comical, tough old fellow;
Let 's all go into he tree together,
For he won't budge till the fruit is mellow!”
He 's a harmless, comical, tough old fellow;
Let 's all go into he tree together,
For he won't budge till the fruit is mellow!”
So up they flew; and the sauciest pair
Mid the shady branches peered and perked,
Selected a spot with the utmost care,
And all day merrily sang and worked.
Mid the shady branches peered and perked,
Selected a spot with the utmost care,
And all day merrily sang and worked.
And where do you think they built their nest?
In the scarecrow's pocket, if you please,
That, half-concealed on his ragged breast,
Made a charming covert of safety and ease!
In the scarecrow's pocket, if you please,
That, half-concealed on his ragged breast,
Made a charming covert of safety and ease!
By the time the cherries were ruby-red,
A thriving family, hungry and brisk,
The whole long day on the ripe fruit fed:
'T was so convenient! They ran no risk!
A thriving family, hungry and brisk,
The whole long day on the ripe fruit fed:
'T was so convenient! They ran no risk!
Until the children were ready to fly,
All undisturbed they lived in the tree;
For nobody thought to look at the Guy
For a robin's flourishing family!
All undisturbed they lived in the tree;
For nobody thought to look at the Guy
For a robin's flourishing family!
56
THE CRADLE.
The barn was low and dim and old,
Broad on the floor the sunshine slept,
And through the windows and the doors
Swift in and out the swallows swept.
Broad on the floor the sunshine slept,
And through the windows and the doors
Swift in and out the swallows swept.
And breezes from the summer sea
Drew through, and stirred the fragrant hay
Down-dropping from the loft, wherein
A gray old idle fish-net lay
Drew through, and stirred the fragrant hay
Down-dropping from the loft, wherein
A gray old idle fish-net lay
Heaped in a corner, and one loop
Hung loose the dry, sweet grass among,
And hammock-wise to all the winds
It floated to and fro, and swung.
Hung loose the dry, sweet grass among,
And hammock-wise to all the winds
It floated to and fro, and swung.
And there one day the children brought
The pet of all the house to play;
A baby boy of three years old,
And sweeter than the dawn of day.
The pet of all the house to play;
A baby boy of three years old,
And sweeter than the dawn of day.
They laid him in the dropping loop,
And softly swung him, till at last
Over his beauty balmy Sleep
Its delicate enchantment cast.
And softly swung him, till at last
Over his beauty balmy Sleep
Its delicate enchantment cast.
57
And then they ran to call us all:
“Come, see where little Rob is! Guess!”
And brought us where the darling lay,
A heap of rosy loveliness
“Come, see where little Rob is! Guess!”
And brought us where the darling lay,
A heap of rosy loveliness
Curled in the net: the dim old place
He brightened; like a star he shone
Cradled in air; we stood as once
The shepherds of Judea had done.
He brightened; like a star he shone
Cradled in air; we stood as once
The shepherds of Judea had done.
58
And while adoring him we gazed,
With eyes that gathered tender dew.
Wrathful upon the gentle scene
His Celtic nurse indignant flew.
With eyes that gathered tender dew.
Wrathful upon the gentle scene
His Celtic nurse indignant flew.
“Is this a fit place for the child!”
And out of his delicious sleep
She clutched him, muttering as she went,
Her scorn and wonder, low and deep.
And out of his delicious sleep
She clutched him, muttering as she went,
Her scorn and wonder, low and deep.
His father smiled, and drew aside;
A grave, sweet look was in his face,
“For One, who in a manger lay,
It was not found too poor a place!”
A grave, sweet look was in his face,
“For One, who in a manger lay,
It was not found too poor a place!”
MARCH.
I wonder what spendthrift chose to spill
Such bright gold under my window-sill!
Is it fairy gold? Does it glitter still?
Bless me! it is but a daffodil!
Such bright gold under my window-sill!
Is it fairy gold? Does it glitter still?
Bless me! it is but a daffodil!
And look at the crocuses, keeping tryst
With the daffodil by the sunshine kissed!
Like beautiful bubbles of amethyst
They seem, blown out of the earth's snow-mist.
With the daffodil by the sunshine kissed!
Like beautiful bubbles of amethyst
They seem, blown out of the earth's snow-mist.
59
And snow-drops, delicate, fairy bells,
With a pale green tint like the ocean swells;
And the hyacinths weaving their perfumed spells!
The ground is a rainbow of asphodels!
With a pale green tint like the ocean swells;
And the hyacinths weaving their perfumed spells!
The ground is a rainbow of asphodels!
Who said that March was a scold and a shrew?
Who said she had nothing on earth to do
But tempests and furies and rages to brew?
Why, look at the wealth she has lavished on you!
Who said she had nothing on earth to do
But tempests and furies and rages to brew?
Why, look at the wealth she has lavished on you!
O March that blusters and March that blows
What color under your footsteps glows!
Beauty you summon from winter snows,
And you are the pathway that leads to the rose.
What color under your footsteps glows!
Beauty you summon from winter snows,
And you are the pathway that leads to the rose.
64
SIR WILLIAM NAPIER AND LITTLE JOAN.
Sir William Napier, one bright day,
Was walking down the glen,
A noble English soldier,
And the handsomest of men.
Was walking down the glen,
A noble English soldier,
And the handsomest of men.
Among the fragrant hedgerows
He slowly wandered down,
Through blooming field and meadow,
By pleasant Freshford town.
He slowly wandered down,
Through blooming field and meadow,
By pleasant Freshford town.
With look and mien and magnificent
And step so grand moved he!
And from his stately front outshone
Beauty and majesty.
And step so grand moved he!
And from his stately front outshone
Beauty and majesty.
About his strong white forehead
The rich locks thronged and curled
Above the splendor of his eyes
That might command the world
The rich locks thronged and curled
Above the splendor of his eyes
That might command the world
A sound of bitter weeping
Came up to his quick ear,
He paused that instant, bending
His kingly head to hear.
Came up to his quick ear,
He paused that instant, bending
His kingly head to hear.
65
Among the grass and daisies
Sat wretched little Joan,
And near her lay a bowl of delf
Broken upon a stone.
Sat wretched little Joan,
And near her lay a bowl of delf
Broken upon a stone.
Her cheeks were red with crying,
And her blue eyes dull and dim,
And she turned her pretty woful face
All tear stained up to him.
And her blue eyes dull and dim,
And she turned her pretty woful face
All tear stained up to him.
Scarce six years old and sobbing
In misery so drear!
“Why, what's the matter, Posy?”
He said, “Come, tell me, dear.”
In misery so drear!
“Why, what's the matter, Posy?”
He said, “Come, tell me, dear.”
“It 'sfather's bowl I 'se broken,
'T was for his dinner kept:
I took it safe, but coming home
It fell,”—again she wept.
'T was for his dinner kept:
I took it safe, but coming home
It fell,”—again she wept.
“But you can mend it, can't you?”
Cried the despairing child
With sudden hope, as down on her
Like some kind god he smiled.
Cried the despairing child
With sudden hope, as down on her
Like some kind god he smiled.
“Don't cry, poor little Posy!
I cannot make it whole,
But I can give you sixpence
To buy another bowl.”
I cannot make it whole,
But I can give you sixpence
To buy another bowl.”
66
He sought in vain for silver
In purse and pockets too,
And found but golden guineas;
He pondered what to do.
In purse and pockets too,
And found but golden guineas;
He pondered what to do.
“This time to-morrow, Posy,”
He said, “again come here,
And I will bring your sixpence.
I promise! Never fear!”
He said, “again come here,
And I will bring your sixpence.
I promise! Never fear!”
Away went Joan rejoicing.
A rescued child was she,
And home went good Sir William,
And to him presently
A rescued child was she,
And home went good Sir William,
And to him presently
A footman brings a letter.
And low before him bends,
“Will not Sir William come and dine
To-morrow with his friends?”
And low before him bends,
“Will not Sir William come and dine
To-morrow with his friends?”
The letter read, “And we 've secured
The man among all men
You wish to meet! He will be here:
You will not fail us then?”
The man among all men
You wish to meet! He will be here:
You will not fail us then?”
To-morrow! could he get to Bath
And dine with Dukes and Earls
And back in time? That hour was pledged—
It was the little girl's!
And dine with Dukes and Earls
And back in time? That hour was pledged—
It was the little girl's!
67
He could not disappoint her,
He must his friend refuse,
So “a previous engagement”
He pleaded as excuse.
He must his friend refuse,
So “a previous engagement”
He pleaded as excuse.
Next day when she, all eager,
Came o'er the fields so fair,
Not surer of the sunrise
Than that she should find him there,
Came o'er the fields so fair,
Not surer of the sunrise
Than that she should find him there,
He met her, and the sixpence
Laid in her little hand.
Her woe was ended, and her heart
The lightest in the land.
Laid in her little hand.
Her woe was ended, and her heart
The lightest in the land.
How would the stately company
Who had so much desired
His presence at their splendid feast,
Have wondered and admired!
Who had so much desired
His presence at their splendid feast,
Have wondered and admired!
As soldier, scholar, gentleman,
His praises oft are heard—
'T was not the least of his great deeds
So to have kept his word.
His praises oft are heard—
'T was not the least of his great deeds
So to have kept his word.
68
BLUEBIRDS IN AUTUMN.
The morning was gray and cloudy,
And over the fading land
Autumn was casting the withered leaves
Abroad with a lavish hand.
And over the fading land
Autumn was casting the withered leaves
Abroad with a lavish hand.
Sad lay the tawny pastures,
Where the grass was brown and dry;
And the far-off hills were blurred with mist,
Under the sombre sky.
Where the grass was brown and dry;
And the far-off hills were blurred with mist,
Under the sombre sky.
The frost already had fallen,
No bird seemed left to sing;
And I sighed to think of the tempests
Between us and the spring.
No bird seemed left to sing;
And I sighed to think of the tempests
Between us and the spring.
But the woodbine yet was scarlet
Where it found a place to cling;
And the old dead weeping-willow
Was draped like a splendid king.
Where it found a place to cling;
And the old dead weeping-willow
Was draped like a splendid king.
Suddenly out of the heavens,
Like sapphire sparks of light,
A flock of bluebirds swept and lit
In the woodbine garlands bright.
Like sapphire sparks of light,
A flock of bluebirds swept and lit
In the woodbine garlands bright.
69
The tree was alive in a moment
With motion, color, and song;
How gorgeous the flash of their azure wings
The blood-red leaves among!
With motion, color, and song;
How gorgeous the flash of their azure wings
The blood-red leaves among!
Beautiful, brilliant creatures!
What sudden delight they brought
Into the pallid morning,
Rebuking my dreary thought!
What sudden delight they brought
Into the pallid morning,
Rebuking my dreary thought!
Only a few days longer,
And they would have flown, to find
The wonderful, vanished summer,
Leaving darkness and cold behind.
And they would have flown, to find
The wonderful, vanished summer,
Leaving darkness and cold behind.
Oh, to flee from the bitter weather,
The winter's buffets and shocks,—
To borrow their strong, light pinions,
And follow their shining flocks!
The winter's buffets and shocks,—
To borrow their strong, light pinions,
And follow their shining flocks!
While they sought for the purple berries,
So eager and bright and glad,
I watched them, dreaming of April,
Ashamed to have been so sad.
So eager and bright and glad,
I watched them, dreaming of April,
Ashamed to have been so sad.
And I thought, “Though I cannot follow them,
I can patiently endure,
And make the best of the snow-storms,
And that is something more.
I can patiently endure,
And make the best of the snow-storms,
And that is something more.
70
“And when I see them returning,
All heaven to earth they'll bring;
And my joy will be the deeper,
For I shall have earned the spring.”
All heaven to earth they'll bring;
And my joy will be the deeper,
For I shall have earned the spring.”
72
JACK FROST.
Rustily creak the crickets: Jack Frost came down last night,He slid to the earth on a starbeam, keen and sparkling and bright;
He sought in the grass for the crickets with delicate icy spear,
So sharp and fine and fatal, and he stabbed them far and near.
Only a few stout fellows, thawed by the morning sun,
Chirrup a mournful echo of by-gone frolic and fun.
But yesterday such a rippling chorus ran all over the land,
Over the hills and the valleys, down to the gray sea-sand.
Millions of merry harlequins, skipping and dancing in glee,
Cricket and locust and grasshopper, happy as happy could be:
Scooping rich caves in ripe apples, and feeding on honey and spice,
Drunk with the mellow sunshine, nor dreaming of spears of ice!
Was it not enough that the crickets your weapon of power should pierce?
Pray what have you done to the flowers? Jack Frost, you are cruel and fierce.
73
Their beautiful lives; they are drooping, their sweet color ebbs, they are pale,
They fade and they die! See the pansies, yet striving so hard to unfold
Their garments of velvety splendor, all Tyrian purple and gold.
But how weary they look, and how withered, like handsome court dames, who all night
Have danced at the ball till the sunrise struck chill to their hearts with its light.
Where hides the wood-aster? She vanished as snow-wreaths dissolve in the sun
The moment you touched her. Look yonder, where, sober and gray as a nun,
The maple-tree stands that at sunset was blushing as red as the sky;
At its foot, glowing scarlet as fire, its robes of magnificence lie.
Despoiler! stripping the world as you strip the shivering tree
Of color and sound and perfume, scaring the bird and the bee,
Turning beauty to ashes—oh to join the swift swallows and fly
Far away out of sight of your mischief! I give you no welcome, not I!
74
A LULLABY.
Sleep, my darling, sleep!
Thunders the pitiless storm:
Fiercely at window and door
Wrestle the winds and roar:
Thy slumber is deep and warm.
Sleep, my darling, sleep!
Thunders the pitiless storm:
Fiercely at window and door
Wrestle the winds and roar:
Thy slumber is deep and warm.
Sleep, my darling, sleep!
Sleep, my baby, sleep!
Over thy beautiful head,
Lightly, softly, and close,
Sweeter than lily or rose,
Thy mother's kisses are shed.
Sleep, my baby, sleep!
Over thy beautiful head,
Lightly, softly, and close,
Sweeter than lily or rose,
Thy mother's kisses are shed.
Sleep, my baby, sleep!
Sleep, my darling, sleep!
Safe in these arms, my own,
Summer shall wrap thee round;
Never harsh touch or sound
Break through that charmèd zone.
Sleep, then, darling, sleep!
Safe in these arms, my own,
Summer shall wrap thee round;
Never harsh touch or sound
Break through that charmèd zone.
Sleep, then, darling, sleep!
Sleep, my angel, sleep!
Nestle against my heart,
Sunk in a golden calm,—
Delicate, breathing of balm,
All my heaven thou art.
Sleep, my angel, sleep!
Nestle against my heart,
Sunk in a golden calm,—
Delicate, breathing of balm,
All my heaven thou art.
Sleep, my angel, sleep!
75
APRIL AND MAY.
I. APRIL.
Birds on the boughs before the buds
Begin to burst in the Spring,
Bending their heads to the April floods,
Too much out of breath to sing!
Begin to burst in the Spring,
Bending their heads to the April floods,
Too much out of breath to sing!
They chirp, “Hey-day! How the rain comes down!
Comrades, cuddle together!
Cling to the bark so rough and brown,
For this is April weather.
Comrades, cuddle together!
Cling to the bark so rough and brown,
For this is April weather.
“Oh, the warm, beautiful, drenching rain!
I don't mind it, do you?
Soon will the sky be clear again,
Smiling, and fresh, and blue.
I don't mind it, do you?
Soon will the sky be clear again,
Smiling, and fresh, and blue.
“Sweet and sparkling is every drop
That slides from the soft, gray clouds;
Blossoms will blush to the very top
Of the bare old tree in crowds.
That slides from the soft, gray clouds;
Blossoms will blush to the very top
Of the bare old tree in crowds.
“Oh, the warm, delicious, hopeful rain!
Let us be glad together.
Summer comes flying in beauty again,
Through the fitful April weather.”
Let us be glad together.
Summer comes flying in beauty again,
Through the fitful April weather.”
76
II. MAY.
Skies are glowing in gold and blue;
What did the brave birds say?
Plenty of sunshine to come, they knew,
In the pleasant month of May!
What did the brave birds say?
Plenty of sunshine to come, they knew,
In the pleasant month of May!
She calls a breeze from the South to blow,
And breathe on the boughs so bare,
And straight they are laden with rosy snow,
And there 's honey and spice in the air!
And breathe on the boughs so bare,
And straight they are laden with rosy snow,
And there 's honey and spice in the air!
Oh, the glad, green leaves! Oh, the happy wind!
Oh, delicate fragrance and balm!
Storm and tumult are left behind
In a rapture of golden calm.
Oh, delicate fragrance and balm!
Storm and tumult are left behind
In a rapture of golden calm.
From dewy morning to starry night
The birds sing sweet and strong,
That the radiant sky is filled with light,
That the days are fair and long.
The birds sing sweet and strong,
That the radiant sky is filled with light,
That the days are fair and long.
That bees are drowsy about the hive—
Earth is so warm and gay!
And 't is joy enough to be alive
In the heavenly month of May!
Earth is so warm and gay!
And 't is joy enough to be alive
In the heavenly month of May!
80
A SONG OF EASTER.
Sing, children, sing!
And the lily censers swing;
Sing that life and joy are waking and that Death no more is king.
Sing the happy, happy tumult of the slowly brightening Spring;
Sing, little children, sing!
And the lily censers swing;
Sing that life and joy are waking and that Death no more is king.
Sing the happy, happy tumult of the slowly brightening Spring;
Sing, little children, sing!
Sing, children, sing!
Winter wild has taken wing.
Fill the air with the sweet tidings till the frosty echoes ring!
Along the eaves the icicles no longer glittering cling,
And the crocus in the garden lifts its bright face to the sun,
And in the meadows softly the brooks begin to run.
And the golden catkins swing
In the warm airs of the Spring;
Sing, little children, sing!
Winter wild has taken wing.
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Along the eaves the icicles no longer glittering cling,
And the crocus in the garden lifts its bright face to the sun,
And in the meadows softly the brooks begin to run.
And the golden catkins swing
In the warm airs of the Spring;
Sing, little children, sing!
Sing, children, sing!
The lilies white you bring
In the joyous Easter morning for hope are blossoming;
And as the earth her shroud of snow from off her breast doth fling,
So may we cast our fetters off in God's eternal Spring.
So may we find release at last from sorrow and from pain,
So may we find our childhood's calm, delicious dawn again.
Sweet are your eyes, O little ones, that look with smiling grace,
Without a shade of doubt or fear into the future's face!
The lilies white you bring
In the joyous Easter morning for hope are blossoming;
And as the earth her shroud of snow from off her breast doth fling,
So may we cast our fetters off in God's eternal Spring.
So may we find release at last from sorrow and from pain,
So may we find our childhood's calm, delicious dawn again.
Sweet are your eyes, O little ones, that look with smiling grace,
Without a shade of doubt or fear into the future's face!
Sing, sing in happy chorus, with joyful voices tell
That death is life, and God is good, and all things shall be well;
That bitter days shall cease
In warmth and light and peace,
That Winter yields to Spring.—
Sing, little children, sing!
That death is life, and God is good, and all things shall be well;
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In warmth and light and peace,
That Winter yields to Spring.—
Sing, little children, sing!
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THE COCKATOOS.
Empty the throne-chair stood; mayhap
The king was taking his royal nap,
For early it was in the afternoon
Of a drowsy day in the month of June.
The king was taking his royal nap,
For early it was in the afternoon
Of a drowsy day in the month of June.
And the palace doors were open wide
To the soft and dreamful airs outside,
And the blue sky burned with the summer glow,
And the trees cool masses of shade did throw.
To the soft and dreamful airs outside,
And the blue sky burned with the summer glow,
And the trees cool masses of shade did throw.
The throne-chair stood in a splendid room.
There were velvets in ruby and purple bloom,
Curtains magnificent to see,
And a table draped most sumptuously.
There were velvets in ruby and purple bloom,
Curtains magnificent to see,
And a table draped most sumptuously.
And on the table a cushion lay
Colored like clouds at the close of day,
And a crown, rich-sparkling with myriad rays,
Shone on the top in a living blaze.
Colored like clouds at the close of day,
And a crown, rich-sparkling with myriad rays,
Shone on the top in a living blaze.
And nobody spoke and nobody stirred
Except a bird that sat by a bird,—
Two cockatoos on a lofty perch,
Sober and grave as monks in a church.
Except a bird that sat by a bird,—
Two cockatoos on a lofty perch,
Sober and grave as monks in a church.
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Gay with the glory of painted plume
Their bright hues suited the brilliant room;
Green and yellow, and rose and blue,
Scarlet and orange, and jet black, too.
Their bright hues suited the brilliant room;
Green and yellow, and rose and blue,
Scarlet and orange, and jet black, too.
Said one to the other, eyeing askance
The beautiful fleur-de-lis of France
On the cushion's lustrous edge, set round
In gleaming gold on a violet ground,—
The beautiful fleur-de-lis of France
On the cushion's lustrous edge, set round
In gleaming gold on a violet ground,—
Said one to the other, “Rocco, my dear,
If any thief were to enter here,
He might take crown and cushion away,
And who would be any the wiser, pray?”
If any thief were to enter here,
He might take crown and cushion away,
And who would be any the wiser, pray?”
Said Rocco, “How stupid, my dear Coquette!
A guard is at every threshold set;
No thief could enter, much less get out,
Without the sentinel's warning shout.”
A guard is at every threshold set;
No thief could enter, much less get out,
Without the sentinel's warning shout.”
She tossed her head, did the bright Coquette.
“Rocco, my dear, now what will you bet
That the guards are not sleeping this moment as sound
As the king himself, all the palace round?
“Rocco, my dear, now what will you bet
That the guards are not sleeping this moment as sound
As the king himself, all the palace round?
“'T is very strange, so it seems to me,
That they leave things open so carelessly;
Really, I think it 's a little absurd
All this should be left to the care of a bird!
That they leave things open so carelessly;
Really, I think it 's a little absurd
All this should be left to the care of a bird!
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“And what is that creaking so light and queer?
Listen a moment. There! Don't you hear?
And what is that moving the curtain behind?
Rocco, my dear, are you deaf and blind?”
Listen a moment. There! Don't you hear?
And what is that moving the curtain behind?
Rocco, my dear, are you deaf and blind?”
The heavy curtain was pushed away
And a shaggy head, unkempt and gray,
From the costly folds looked doubtful out,
And eagerly everywhere peered about.
And a shaggy head, unkempt and gray,
From the costly folds looked doubtful out,
And eagerly everywhere peered about.
And the dull eyes lighted upon the blaze
Of the gorgeous crown with a startled gaze,
And out of the shadow the figure stepped
And softly over the carpet crept.
Of the gorgeous crown with a startled gaze,
And out of the shadow the figure stepped
And softly over the carpet crept.
And nobody spoke and nobody stirred,
And the one bird sat by the other bird,
Both overpowered by their surprise;
They really could n't believe their eyes!
And the one bird sat by the other bird,
Both overpowered by their surprise;
They really could n't believe their eyes!
Swiftly the madman, in fear's despite,
Darted straight to that hill of light;
The frightened birds saw the foolish wretch
His hand to the wondrous thing outstretch.
Darted straight to that hill of light;
The frightened birds saw the foolish wretch
His hand to the wondrous thing outstretch.
Then both at once such an uproar raised
That the king himself rushed in, amazed,
Half awake, in his dressing-gown,
And there on the floor lay the sacred crown!
That the king himself rushed in, amazed,
Half awake, in his dressing-gown,
And there on the floor lay the sacred crown!
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And he caught a glimpse through the portal wide
Of a pair of flying heels outside,
And he shouted in royal wrath, “What ho!
Where are my people, I 'd like to know!”
Of a pair of flying heels outside,
And he shouted in royal wrath, “What ho!
Where are my people, I 'd like to know!”
They ran to the rescue in terror great.
“Is this the way that you guard my state?
Had it not been for my cockatoos
My very crown I had chanced to lose!”
“Is this the way that you guard my state?
Had it not been for my cockatoos
My very crown I had chanced to lose!”
They sought in the shrubbery to and fro,
Wherever they thought the thief might go;
They looked through the garden, but all in vain,
They searched the forest, they scoured the plain.
Wherever they thought the thief might go;
They looked through the garden, but all in vain,
They searched the forest, they scoured the plain.
They gave it up, for they could not choose.
But oh, the pride of those cockatoos!
If they were admired and petted before,
Now they were utterly spoiled, be sure!
But oh, the pride of those cockatoos!
If they were admired and petted before,
Now they were utterly spoiled, be sure!
They 'd a special servant on them to wait,
To do their pleasure early and late:
They grew so haughty and proud and grand,
Their fame was spread over all the land.
To do their pleasure early and late:
They grew so haughty and proud and grand,
Their fame was spread over all the land.
And when they died it made such a stir!
And their skins were stuffed with spice and myrrh,
And from their perch they still look down,
As on the day when they saved the crown.
And their skins were stuffed with spice and myrrh,
And from their perch they still look down,
As on the day when they saved the crown.
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IN THE BLACK FOREST.
Up through the great Black Forest,
So wild and wonderful,
We climbed in the autumn afternoon
'Mid the shadows deep and cool.
So wild and wonderful,
We climbed in the autumn afternoon
'Mid the shadows deep and cool.
We climbed to the Grand Duke's castle
That stood on the airy height;
Above the leagues of pine-trees dark
It shone in the yellow light.
That stood on the airy height;
Above the leagues of pine-trees dark
It shone in the yellow light.
We saw how the peasant women
Were toiling along the way,
In open spaces here and there,
That steeped in the sunshine lay.
Were toiling along the way,
In open spaces here and there,
That steeped in the sunshine lay.
They gathered the autumn harvest—
All toil-worn and weather-browned;
They gathered the roots they had planted in spring,
And piled them up on the ground.
All toil-worn and weather-browned;
They gathered the roots they had planted in spring,
And piled them up on the ground.
We heard the laughter of children,
And merrily down the road
Ran little Max with a rattling cart,
Heaped up with a heavy load.
And merrily down the road
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Heaped up with a heavy load.
Upon orange carrots, and beets so red,
And turnips smooth and white,
With leaves of green all packed between,
Sat the little Rosel bright.
And turnips smooth and white,
With leaves of green all packed between,
Sat the little Rosel bright.
Around the edge of her wee white cap
The wind blew out her curls—
A sweeter face I have never seen
Than this happy little girl's.
The wind blew out her curls—
A sweeter face I have never seen
Than this happy little girl's.
A spray of the carrot's foliage fine,
Soft as a feather of green,
Drooped over her head from behind her ear
As proud as the plume of a queen.
Soft as a feather of green,
Drooped over her head from behind her ear
As proud as the plume of a queen.
Light was his burden to merry Max,
With Rosel perched above,
And he gazed at her on that humble throne
With eyes of pride and love.
With Rosel perched above,
And he gazed at her on that humble throne
With eyes of pride and love.
With joyful laughter they passed us by,
As up through the forest of pine,
So solemn and still, we made our way
To the castle of Eberstein.
As up through the forest of pine,
So solemn and still, we made our way
To the castle of Eberstein.
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Oh, vast and dim and beautiful
Were the dark woods' shadowy aisles,
And all their silent depths seemed lit
With the children's golden smiles.
Were the dark woods' shadowy aisles,
And all their silent depths seemed lit
With the children's golden smiles.
Oh, lofty the Grand Duke's castle
That looked o'er the forest gloom;
But better I love to remember
The children's rosy bloom.
That looked o'er the forest gloom;
But better I love to remember
The children's rosy bloom.
And sweet is the picture I brought away
From the wild Black Forest shade,
Of proud and happy and merry Max,
And Rosel, the little maid.
From the wild Black Forest shade,
Of proud and happy and merry Max,
And Rosel, the little maid.
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AN OLD SAW.
A dear little maid came skipping out
In the glad new day, with a merry shout;
With dancing feet and flying hair
She sang with joy in the morning air.
In the glad new day, with a merry shout;
With dancing feet and flying hair
She sang with joy in the morning air.
“Don't sing before breakfast, you'll cry before night!”
What a croak, to darken the child's delight!
And the stupid old nurse, again and again,
Repeated the ancient, dull refrain.
What a croak, to darken the child's delight!
And the stupid old nurse, again and again,
Repeated the ancient, dull refrain.
The child paused, trying to understand;
But her eyes saw the great world rainbow-spanned:
Her light little feet hardly touched the earth,
And her soul brimmed over with innocent mirth.
But her eyes saw the great world rainbow-spanned:
Her light little feet hardly touched the earth,
And her soul brimmed over with innocent mirth.
“Never mind,—don't listen, O sweet little maid!
Make sure of your morning song,” I said;
“And if pain must meet you, why, all the more
Be glad of the rapture that came before.”
Make sure of your morning song,” I said;
“And if pain must meet you, why, all the more
Be glad of the rapture that came before.”
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CRADLE SONG.
In the wingèd cradle of sleep I lay
My darling gently down;
Kissed and closed are his eyes of gray,
Under his curls' bright crown.
My darling gently down;
Kissed and closed are his eyes of gray,
Under his curls' bright crown.
Where, oh where, will he fly and float,
In the wingèd cradle of sleep?
Whom will he meet in the worlds remote,
While he slumbers soft and deep?
In the wingèd cradle of sleep?
Whom will he meet in the worlds remote,
While he slumbers soft and deep?
Warm and sweet as a white blush rose,
His small hand lies in mine,
But I cannot follow him where he goes,
And he gives no word nor sign.
His small hand lies in mine,
But I cannot follow him where he goes,
And he gives no word nor sign.
Keep him safe ye heavenly powers,
In dream-land vast and dim,
Let no ill, through the night's long hours,
Come nigh to trouble him.
In dream-land vast and dim,
Let no ill, through the night's long hours,
Come nigh to trouble him.
Give him back, when the dawn shall break,
With his matchless baby charms,
With his love and his beauty all awake.
Into my happy arms!
With his matchless baby charms,
With his love and his beauty all awake.
Into my happy arms!
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MARJORIE.
Marjorie hides in the deep, sweet grass;
Purple its tops bend over;
Softly and warmly the breezes pass,
And bring her the scent of the clover.
Purple its tops bend over;
Softly and warmly the breezes pass,
And bring her the scent of the clover.
Butterflies flit, and the banded bee
Booms in the air above her;
Green and golden lady-bugs three
Marjorie's nest discover.
Booms in the air above her;
Green and golden lady-bugs three
Marjorie's nest discover.
Up to the top of the grass so tall
Creep they while Marjorie gazes;
Blows the wind suddenly—down they fall
Into the disks of the daisies!
Creep they while Marjorie gazes;
Blows the wind suddenly—down they fall
Into the disks of the daisies!
Brown-eyed Marjorie! Who, do you think,
Sings in the sun so loudly?
Marjorie smiles. “'T is the bobolink,
Carolling gayly and proudly.”
Sings in the sun so loudly?
Marjorie smiles. “'T is the bobolink,
Carolling gayly and proudly.”
Bright-locked Marjorie! What floats down
Through the golden air, and lingers
Light on your head as a cloudy crown,
Pink as your rosy fingers?
Through the golden air, and lingers
Light on your head as a cloudy crown,
Pink as your rosy fingers?
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“Apple-blossoms!” she laughing cries,
“Beautiful boats come sailing
Out of the branches held up to the skies,
Over the orchard railing.”
“Beautiful boats come sailing
Out of the branches held up to the skies,
Over the orchard railing.”
Happy, sweet Marjorie, hidden away,
Birds, butterflies, bees above her;
With flowers and perfumes, and lady-bugs gay:
Everything seems to love her!
Birds, butterflies, bees above her;
With flowers and perfumes, and lady-bugs gay:
Everything seems to love her!
102
KING MIDAS.
Heard you, O little children,
This wonderful story told
Of the Phrygian king whose fatal touch
Turned everything to gold?
This wonderful story told
Of the Phrygian king whose fatal touch
Turned everything to gold?
In a great, dim, dreary chamber,
Beneath the palace floor,
He counted his treasures of glittering coin,
And he always longed for more.
Beneath the palace floor,
He counted his treasures of glittering coin,
And he always longed for more.
When the clouds in the blaze of sunset
Burned flaming fold on fold,
He thought how fine a thing 't would be
Were they but real gold!
Burned flaming fold on fold,
He thought how fine a thing 't would be
Were they but real gold!
And when his dear little daughter,
The child he loved so well,
Came bringing in from the pleasant fields
The yellow asphodel,
The child he loved so well,
Came bringing in from the pleasant fields
The yellow asphodel,
Or buttercups from the meadow,
Or dandelions gay,
King Midas would look at the blossoms sweet,
And she would hear him say,—
Or dandelions gay,
King Midas would look at the blossoms sweet,
And she would hear him say,—
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“If only the flowers were really
Golden as they appear,
'T were worth your while to gather them,
My little daughter dear!”
Golden as they appear,
'T were worth your while to gather them,
My little daughter dear!”
One day in the dim, drear chamber,
As he counted his treasure o'er,
A sunbeam slipped through a chink in the wall
And quivered down to the floor.
As he counted his treasure o'er,
A sunbeam slipped through a chink in the wall
And quivered down to the floor.
“Would it were gold,” he muttered,
“That broad bright yellow bar!”
Suddenly stood in its mellow light,
A figure bright as a star.
“That broad bright yellow bar!”
Suddenly stood in its mellow light,
A figure bright as a star.
Young and ruddy and glorious,
With face as fresh as the day,
With a wingèd cap and wingèd heels,
And eyes both wise and gay.
With face as fresh as the day,
With a wingèd cap and wingèd heels,
And eyes both wise and gay.
“Oh have your wish, King Midas,”
A heavenly voice begun,
Like all sweet notes of the morning
Braided and blended in one.
A heavenly voice begun,
Like all sweet notes of the morning
Braided and blended in one.
“And when to-morrow's sunrise
Wakes you with rosy fire,
All things you touch shall turn to gold,
Even as you desire.”
Wakes you with rosy fire,
All things you touch shall turn to gold,
Even as you desire.”
104
King Midas slept. The morning
At last stole up the sky,
And woke him, full of eagerness
The wondrous spell to try.
At last stole up the sky,
And woke him, full of eagerness
The wondrous spell to try.
And lo! the bed's fine draperies
Of linen fair and cool,
Of quilted satin and cobweb lace,
And blankets of snowy wool,
Of linen fair and cool,
Of quilted satin and cobweb lace,
And blankets of snowy wool,
All had been changed with the sun's first ray
To marvellous cloth of gold,
That rippled and shimmered as soft as silk
In many a gorgeous fold.
To marvellous cloth of gold,
That rippled and shimmered as soft as silk
In many a gorgeous fold.
But all this splendor weighed so much
'T was irksome to the king,
And up he sprang to try at once
The touch on everything.
'T was irksome to the king,
And up he sprang to try at once
The touch on everything.
The heavy tassel that he grasped
Magnificent became,
And hung by the purple curtain rich
Like a glowing mass of flame.
Magnificent became,
And hung by the purple curtain rich
Like a glowing mass of flame.
At every step, on every side,
Such splendor followed him,
The very sunbeams seemed to pale,
And morn itself grow dim.
Such splendor followed him,
The very sunbeams seemed to pale,
And morn itself grow dim.
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But when he came to the water
For his delicious bath,
And dipped his hand in the surface smooth,
He started in sudden wrath;
For his delicious bath,
And dipped his hand in the surface smooth,
He started in sudden wrath;
For the liquid, light and leaping,
So crystal-bright and clear,
Grew a solid lake of heavy gold,
And the king began to fear!
So crystal-bright and clear,
Grew a solid lake of heavy gold,
And the king began to fear!
But out he went to the garden,
So fresh in the morning hour,
And a thousand buds in the balmy night
Had burst into perfect flower.
So fresh in the morning hour,
And a thousand buds in the balmy night
Had burst into perfect flower.
'T was a world of perfume and color,
Of tender and delicate bloom,
But only the hideous thirst for wealth
In the king's heart found room.
Of tender and delicate bloom,
But only the hideous thirst for wealth
In the king's heart found room.
He passed like a spirit of autumn
Through that fair space of bloom,
And the leaves and the flowers grew yellow
In a dull and senseless gloom.
Through that fair space of bloom,
And the leaves and the flowers grew yellow
In a dull and senseless gloom.
Back to the lofty palace
Went the glad monarch then,
And sat at his sumptuous breakfast,
Most fortunate of men!
Went the glad monarch then,
And sat at his sumptuous breakfast,
Most fortunate of men!
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He broke the fine, white wheaten roll,
The light and wholesome bread,
And it turned to a lump of metal rich—
It had as well been lead!
The light and wholesome bread,
And it turned to a lump of metal rich—
It had as well been lead!
Again did fear assail the king,
When—what was this he heard?
The voice of his little daughter dear,
As sweet as a grieving bird.
When—what was this he heard?
The voice of his little daughter dear,
As sweet as a grieving bird.
Sobbing she stood before him,
And a golden rose held she,
And the tears that brimmed her blue, blue eyes
Were pitiful to see.
And a golden rose held she,
And the tears that brimmed her blue, blue eyes
Were pitiful to see.
“Father! O father dearest!
This dreadful thing—oh, see!
Oh, what has happened to all the flowers?
Tell me, what can it be?”
This dreadful thing—oh, see!
Oh, what has happened to all the flowers?
Tell me, what can it be?”
“Why should you cry, my daughter?
Are not these blossoms of gold
Beautiful, precious, and wonderful,
With splendor not to be told?”
Are not these blossoms of gold
Beautiful, precious, and wonderful,
With splendor not to be told?”
“I hate them, O my father!
They 're stiff and hard and dead,
That were so sweet and soft and fair,
And blushed so warm and red.”
They 're stiff and hard and dead,
That were so sweet and soft and fair,
And blushed so warm and red.”
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“Come here,” he cried, “my darling,”
And bent, her cheek to kiss,
To comfort her—when—Heavenly Powers!
What fearful thing was this?
And bent, her cheek to kiss,
To comfort her—when—Heavenly Powers!
What fearful thing was this?
He sank back, shuddering and aghast,
But she stood still as death—
A statue of horrible gleaming gold,
With neither motion nor breath.
But she stood still as death—
A statue of horrible gleaming gold,
With neither motion nor breath.
The gold tears hardened on her cheek,
The gold rose in her hand,
Even her little sandals changed
To gold, where she did stand.
The gold rose in her hand,
Even her little sandals changed
To gold, where she did stand.
Then such a tumult of despair
The wretched king possessed,
He wrung his hands, and tore his hair,
And sobbed, and beat his breast.
The wretched king possessed,
He wrung his hands, and tore his hair,
And sobbed, and beat his breast.
Weighed with one look from her sweet eyes
What was the whole world worth?
Against one touch of her loving lips,
The treasure of all the earth?
What was the whole world worth?
Against one touch of her loving lips,
The treasure of all the earth?
Then came that voice, like music,
As fresh as the morning air,
“How is it with you, King Midas,
Rich in your answered prayer?”
As fresh as the morning air,
“How is it with you, King Midas,
Rich in your answered prayer?”
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And there, in the sunshine smiling,
Majestic as before,
Ruddy and young and glorious,
The Stranger stood once more.
Majestic as before,
Ruddy and young and glorious,
The Stranger stood once more.
“Take back your gift so terrible!”
No blessing, but a curse!
One loving heart more precious is
Than the gold of the universe.”
No blessing, but a curse!
One loving heart more precious is
Than the gold of the universe.”
The Stranger listened—a sweeter smile
Kindled his grave, bright eyes.
“Glad am I, O King Midas,
That you have grown so wise!
Kindled his grave, bright eyes.
“Glad am I, O King Midas,
That you have grown so wise!
“Again your wish is granted;
More swiftly than before,
All you have harmed with the fatal touch
You shall again restore.”
More swiftly than before,
All you have harmed with the fatal touch
You shall again restore.”
He clasped his little daughter—
Oh, joy!—within his arms
She trembled back to her human self,
With all her human charms.
Oh, joy!—within his arms
She trembled back to her human self,
With all her human charms.
Across her face he saw the life
Beneath his kiss begin,
And steal to the charming dimple deep
Upon her lovely chin.
Beneath his kiss begin,
And steal to the charming dimple deep
Upon her lovely chin.
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Again her eyes grew blue and clear,
Again her cheek flushed red,
She locked her arms about his neck,
“My father dear!” she said.
Again her cheek flushed red,
She locked her arms about his neck,
“My father dear!” she said.
Oh, happy was King Midas,
Against his heart to hold
His treasure of love, more precious
Than a thousand worlds of gold!
Against his heart to hold
His treasure of love, more precious
Than a thousand worlds of gold!
113
THE HYLAS.
In the crimson sunsets of the spring,
Children, have you heard the hylas pipe,
Ere with robin's note the meadows ring,
Ere the silver willow buds are ripe?
Children, have you heard the hylas pipe,
Ere with robin's note the meadows ring,
Ere the silver willow buds are ripe?
Long before the swallow dares appear,
When the April weather frees the brooks,
Sweet and high a liquid note you hear,
Sounding clear at eve from wooded nooks.
When the April weather frees the brooks,
Sweet and high a liquid note you hear,
Sounding clear at eve from wooded nooks.
'T is the hylas. “What are hylas, pray?”
Do you ask me, little children sweet?
They are tree-toads, brown and green and gray,
Small and slender, dusky, light, and fleet.
Do you ask me, little children sweet?
They are tree-toads, brown and green and gray,
Small and slender, dusky, light, and fleet.
All the winter long they hide and sleep
In the dark earth's bosom, safe and fast;
When the sunshine finds them, up they leap,
Glad to feel that spring is come at last.
In the dark earth's bosom, safe and fast;
When the sunshine finds them, up they leap,
Glad to feel that spring is come at last.
Glad and grateful, up the trees they climb,
Pour their cheerful music on the air,
Crying, “Here 's an end of snow and rime!
Beauty is beginning everywhere!”
Pour their cheerful music on the air,
Crying, “Here 's an end of snow and rime!
Beauty is beginning everywhere!”
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Listen, children, for so sweet a cry!
Listen till you hear the hylas sing,
Ere the first star glitters in the sky,
In the crimson sunsets of the spring.
Listen till you hear the hylas sing,
Ere the first star glitters in the sky,
In the crimson sunsets of the spring.
THE SPARROWS.
[DIE SPURVER.]
In the far-off land of Norway,
Where the winter lingers late,
And long for the singing-birds and flowers
The little children wait:
Where the winter lingers late,
And long for the singing-birds and flowers
The little children wait:
When at last the summer ripens
And the harvest is gathered in,
And food for the bleak, drear days to come
The toiling people win;
And the harvest is gathered in,
And food for the bleak, drear days to come
The toiling people win;
Through all the land the children
In the golden fields remain
Till their busy little hands have gleaned
A generous sheaf of grain:
In the golden fields remain
Till their busy little hands have gleaned
A generous sheaf of grain:
All the stalks by the reapers forgotten
They glean to the very least,
To save till the cold December,
For the sparrows' Christmas feast.
They glean to the very least,
To save till the cold December,
For the sparrows' Christmas feast.
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And then through the frost-locked country
There happens a wonderful thing:
The sparrows flock north, south, east, west,
For the children's offering.
There happens a wonderful thing:
The sparrows flock north, south, east, west,
For the children's offering.
Of a sudden, the day before Christmas,
The twittering crowds arrive,
And the bitter, wintry air at once
With their chirping is all alive.
The twittering crowds arrive,
And the bitter, wintry air at once
With their chirping is all alive.
They perch upon roof and gable,
On porch and fence and tree,
They flutter about the windows
And peer in curiously.
On porch and fence and tree,
They flutter about the windows
And peer in curiously.
And meet the eyes of the children,
Who eagerly look out
With cheeks that bloom like roses red,
And greet them with welcoming shout.
Who eagerly look out
With cheeks that bloom like roses red,
And greet them with welcoming shout.
On the joyous Christmas morning,
In front of every door
A tall pole, crowned with clustering grain,
Is set the birds before.
In front of every door
A tall pole, crowned with clustering grain,
Is set the birds before.
And which are the happiest, truly
It would be hard to tell;
The sparrows who share in the Christmas cheer,
Or the children who love them well!
It would be hard to tell;
The sparrows who share in the Christmas cheer,
Or the children who love them well!
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How sweet that they should remember,
With faith so full and sure.
That the children's bounty awaited them
The whole wide country o'er!
With faith so full and sure.
That the children's bounty awaited them
The whole wide country o'er!
When this pretty story was told me
By one who had helped to rear
The rustling grain for the merry birds
In Norway, many a year.
By one who had helped to rear
The rustling grain for the merry birds
In Norway, many a year.
I thought that our little children
Would like to know it too,
It seems to me so beautiful.
So blessed a thing to do,
Would like to know it too,
It seems to me so beautiful.
So blessed a thing to do,
To make God's innocent creatures see
In every child a friend,
And on our faithful kindness
So fearlessly depend.
In every child a friend,
And on our faithful kindness
So fearlessly depend.
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THE NIGHTINGALE.
There is a bird, a plain, brown bird,
That dwells in lands afar,
Whose wild, delicious song is heard
With evening's first white star.
That dwells in lands afar,
Whose wild, delicious song is heard
With evening's first white star.
When, dewy-fresh and still, the night
Steals to the waiting world,
And the new moon glitters silver bright,
And the fluttering winds are furled:
Steals to the waiting world,
And the new moon glitters silver bright,
And the fluttering winds are furled:
When the balm of summer is in the air,
And the deep rose breathes of musk,
And there comes a waft of blossoms fair
Through the enchanted dusk;
And the deep rose breathes of musk,
And there comes a waft of blossoms fair
Through the enchanted dusk;
Then breaks the silence a heavenly strain,
And thrills the quiet night
With a rich and wonderful refrain,
A rapture of delight.
And thrills the quiet night
With a rich and wonderful refrain,
A rapture of delight.
All listeners that rare music hail,
All whisper softly: “Hark!
It is the matchless nightingale
Sweet singing in the dark.”
All whisper softly: “Hark!
It is the matchless nightingale
Sweet singing in the dark.”
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He has no pride of feathers fine;
Unconscious, too, is he,
That welcomed as a thing divine
Is his clear minstrelsy.
Unconscious, too, is he,
That welcomed as a thing divine
Is his clear minstrelsy.
But from the fulness of his heart
His happy carol pours;
Beyond all praise, above all art,
His song to heaven soars.
His happy carol pours;
Beyond all praise, above all art,
His song to heaven soars.
And through the whole wide world his fame
Is sounded far and near;
Men love to speak his very name;
That brown bird is so dear.
Is sounded far and near;
Men love to speak his very name;
That brown bird is so dear.
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GOLD LOCKS AND SILVER LOCKS.
Pupil and master together,
The wise man and the child
Merrily talking and laughing
Under the lamp-light mild.
The wise man and the child
Merrily talking and laughing
Under the lamp-light mild.
Pupil and master together,
A fair sight to behold,
With his thronging locks of silver
And her tresses of ruddy gold.
A fair sight to behold,
With his thronging locks of silver
And her tresses of ruddy gold.
“Well, little girl, did you practise
On the violin to-day?
What is the air I gave you?
Have you forgotten, pray?”
On the violin to-day?
What is the air I gave you?
Have you forgotten, pray?”
And he sings a few notes and pauses,
Half frowning to see her stand
Perplexed, with her white brows knitted,
And her chin upon her hand.
Half frowning to see her stand
Perplexed, with her white brows knitted,
And her chin upon her hand.
Far off in the street of a sudden
Comes the sound of a wandering band,
And the blare of brass rings faintly,
Too distant to understand.
Comes the sound of a wandering band,
And the blare of brass rings faintly,
Too distant to understand.
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“Hark!” says the master, smiling,
Bending his head to hear,
“In what key are they playing?
Can you tell me that, my dear?
Bending his head to hear,
“In what key are they playing?
Can you tell me that, my dear?
“Is it D minor? Try it!
To the piano and try!”
She strikes it, the sweet sound answers,
Her touch so light and shy.
To the piano and try!”
She strikes it, the sweet sound answers,
Her touch so light and shy.
And swift as steel to magnet,
The far tones and the near
Unite and are blended together
Smoothly upon the ear.
The far tones and the near
Unite and are blended together
Smoothly upon the ear.
I thought, if one had the power,
What a beautiful thing 't would be,
Hearing Life's manifold music,
To strike in one's self the key;
What a beautiful thing 't would be,
Hearing Life's manifold music,
To strike in one's self the key;
Whether joyful or sorry, to answer,
As wind-harps answer the air,
And solve by simple submission
Its riddles of trouble and care.
As wind-harps answer the air,
And solve by simple submission
Its riddles of trouble and care.
But the little maid knew nothing
Of thoughts so grave and wise,
As she stole again to her teacher,
And lifted her merry eyes.
Of thoughts so grave and wise,
As she stole again to her teacher,
And lifted her merry eyes.
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And neither dreamed what a picture
They made, the young and the old,—
With his thronging locks of silver,
And her tresses of ruddy gold.
They made, the young and the old,—
With his thronging locks of silver,
And her tresses of ruddy gold.
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LOST.
“Lock the dairy door!” Oh hark, the cock is crowing proudly!
“Lock the dairy door!” and all the hens are cackling loudly:
“Chickle, chackle, chee,” they cry; “we have n't got the key,” they cry;
“Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh dear, wherever can it be!” they cry.
“Lock the dairy door!” and all the hens are cackling loudly:
“Chickle, chackle, chee,” they cry; “we have n't got the key,” they cry;
“Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh dear, wherever can it be!” they cry.
Up and down the garden walks where all the flowers are blowing,
Out about the golden fields where tall the wheat is growing,
Through the barn and up the road they cackle and they chatter:
Cry the children, “Hear the hens! Why, what can be the matter?”
Out about the golden fields where tall the wheat is growing,
Through the barn and up the road they cackle and they chatter:
Cry the children, “Hear the hens! Why, what can be the matter?”
What scraping and what scratching, what bristling and what hustling;
The cock stands on the fence, the wind his ruddy plumage rustling;
Like a soldier grand he stands, and like a trumpet glorious
Sounds his shout both far and near, imperious and victorious.
The cock stands on the fence, the wind his ruddy plumage rustling;
Like a soldier grand he stands, and like a trumpet glorious
Sounds his shout both far and near, imperious and victorious.
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But to Partlets down below, who cannot find the key, they hear,
“Lock the dairy door!” That 's all his challenge says to them, my dear.
Why they had it, how they lost it, must remain a mystery;
I that tell you, never heard the first part of the history.
“Lock the dairy door!” That 's all his challenge says to them, my dear.
Why they had it, how they lost it, must remain a mystery;
I that tell you, never heard the first part of the history.
But if you will listen, dear, next time the cock crows proudly,
“Lock the dairy door!” you'll hear him tell the biddies loudly:
“Chickle, chackle, chee,” they cry; “we have n't got the key!” they cry;
“Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh dear, wherever can it be!” they cry.
“Lock the dairy door!” you'll hear him tell the biddies loudly:
“Chickle, chackle, chee,” they cry; “we have n't got the key!” they cry;
“Chickle, chackle, chee! Oh dear, wherever can it be!” they cry.
129
THE WOUNDED CURLEW.
By yonder sandy cove where, every day,
The tide flows in and out,
A lonely bird in sober brown and gray
Limps patiently about;
The tide flows in and out,
A lonely bird in sober brown and gray
Limps patiently about;
And round the basin's edge, o'er stones and sand,
And many a fringing weed,
He steals, or on the rocky ledge doth stand,
Crying, with none to heed.
And many a fringing weed,
He steals, or on the rocky ledge doth stand,
Crying, with none to heed.
But sometimes from the distance he can hear
His comrades' swift reply;
Sometimes the air rings with their music clear,
Sounding from sea and sky.
His comrades' swift reply;
Sometimes the air rings with their music clear,
Sounding from sea and sky.
And then, oh then his tender voice, so sweet,
Is shaken with his pain,
For broken are his pinions strong and fleet,
Never to soar again.
Is shaken with his pain,
For broken are his pinions strong and fleet,
Never to soar again.
Wounded and lame and languishing he lives,
Once glad and blithe and free,
And in his prison limits frets and strives
His ancient self to be.
Once glad and blithe and free,
And in his prison limits frets and strives
His ancient self to be.
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The little sandpipers about him play,
The shining waves they skim,
Or round his feet they seek their food, and stay
As if to comfort him.
The shining waves they skim,
Or round his feet they seek their food, and stay
As if to comfort him.
My pity cannot help him, though his plaint
Brings tears of wistfulness;
Still must he grieve and mourn, forlorn and faint,
None may his wrong redress.
Brings tears of wistfulness;
Still must he grieve and mourn, forlorn and faint,
None may his wrong redress.
O bright-eyed boy! was there no better way
A moment's joy to gain
Than to make sorrow that must mar the day
With such despairing pain?
A moment's joy to gain
Than to make sorrow that must mar the day
With such despairing pain?
O children, drop the gun, the cruel stone!
Oh listen to my words,
And hear with me the wounded curlew moan—
Have mercy on the birds!
Oh listen to my words,
And hear with me the wounded curlew moan—
Have mercy on the birds!
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LITTLE ASSUNTA.
Climbing the Pincian Hill's long slope,
When the west was bright with a crimson flame,
Her small face glowing with life and hope,
Little Assunta singing came.
When the west was bright with a crimson flame,
Her small face glowing with life and hope,
Little Assunta singing came.
From under ilex and olive-tree,
I gazed afar to St. Peter's dome;
Below, for a wondering world to see,
Lay the ruined glories of ancient Rome.
I gazed afar to St. Peter's dome;
Below, for a wondering world to see,
Lay the ruined glories of ancient Rome.
Sunset was sorrowing over the land,
O'er the splendid fountains that leaped in the air,
O'er crumbling tower and temple grand,
Palace, and column, and statue fair.
O'er the splendid fountains that leaped in the air,
O'er crumbling tower and temple grand,
Palace, and column, and statue fair.
Little Assunta climbed the steep;
She was a lovely sight to see!
A tint in her olive cheek as deep
As the wild red Roman anemone.
She was a lovely sight to see!
A tint in her olive cheek as deep
As the wild red Roman anemone.
Dark as midnight her braided hair
Over her fathomless eyes of brown;
And over her tresses the graceful square
Of snow-white linen was folded down.
Over her fathomless eyes of brown;
And over her tresses the graceful square
Of snow-white linen was folded down.
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Her quaint black bodice was laced behind;
Her apron was barred with dull rich hues;
Like the ripe pomegranate's tawny rind
Her little gown; and she wore no shoes.
Her apron was barred with dull rich hues;
Like the ripe pomegranate's tawny rind
Her little gown; and she wore no shoes.
But round her dusk throat's slender grace,
Large, smooth, coral beads were wound;
Like a flower herself in that solemn place
She seemed, just blooming out of the ground.
Large, smooth, coral beads were wound;
Like a flower herself in that solemn place
She seemed, just blooming out of the ground.
Up she came, as she walked on air!
I wandered downward with footsteps slow,
Till we met in the midst of the pathway fair,
Bathed in the mournful sunset's glow.
I wandered downward with footsteps slow,
Till we met in the midst of the pathway fair,
Bathed in the mournful sunset's glow.
“Buon giorno,
Signora!” she said;
Like a wild-bird's note was her greeting clear.
“Salve!” I answered, “my little maid;
But 't is evening, and not good-morning, dear!”
Like a wild-bird's note was her greeting clear.
“Salve!” I answered, “my little maid;
But 't is evening, and not good-morning, dear!”
She stretched her hands with a smile like light,
As if she offered me, joyfully,
Some precious gift, with that aspect bright,
And “Buon giorno!” again sang she.
As if she offered me, joyfully,
Some precious gift, with that aspect bright,
And “Buon giorno!” again sang she.
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And so she passed me and upward pressed
Under ilex and olive-tree,
While the flush of sunset died in the west,
And the shadows of twilight folded me.
Under ilex and olive-tree,
While the flush of sunset died in the west,
And the shadows of twilight folded me.
She carried the morn in her shining eyes!
Evening was mine, and the night to be;
But she stirred my heart with the dawn's surprise,
And left me a beautiful memory!
Evening was mine, and the night to be;
But she stirred my heart with the dawn's surprise,
And left me a beautiful memory!
INHOSPITALITY.
Down on the north wind sweeping
Comes the storm with roaring din;
Sadly, with dreary tumult,
The twilight gathers in.
Comes the storm with roaring din;
Sadly, with dreary tumult,
The twilight gathers in.
The snow-covered little island
Is white as a frosted cake;
And round and round it the billows
Bellow, and thunder, and break.
Is white as a frosted cake;
And round and round it the billows
Bellow, and thunder, and break.
Within doors the blazing drift-wood
Is glowing, ruddy and warm,
And happiness sits at the fire-side,
Watching the raging storm.
Is glowing, ruddy and warm,
And happiness sits at the fire-side,
Watching the raging storm.
What fluttered past the window,
All weary and wet and weak,
With the heavily drooping pinions,
And the wicked, crooked beak?
All weary and wet and weak,
136
And the wicked, crooked beak?
Cries the little sister, watching,
“Whither now can he flee?
Black through the whirling snow-flakes
Glooms the awful face of the sea,
“Whither now can he flee?
Black through the whirling snow-flakes
Glooms the awful face of the sea,
“And tossed and torn by the tempest,
He must sink in the bitter brine!
Why could n't we pity and save him
Till the sun again should shine?”
He must sink in the bitter brine!
Why could n't we pity and save him
Till the sun again should shine?”
They drew her back to the fireside,
And laughed at her cloudy eyes,—
“What, mourn for that robber-fellow,
The cruelest bird that flies!
And laughed at her cloudy eyes,—
“What, mourn for that robber-fellow,
The cruelest bird that flies!
“Your song-sparrow hardly would thank you,
And which is the dearest, pray?”
But she heard at the doors and windows
The lashing of the spray;
And which is the dearest, pray?”
But she heard at the doors and windows
The lashing of the spray;
And as ever the shock of the breakers
The heart of their quiet stirred,
She thought, “Oh would we had sheltered him,
The poor, unhappy bird!”
The heart of their quiet stirred,
She thought, “Oh would we had sheltered him,
The poor, unhappy bird!”
Where the boats before the house-door
Are drawn up from the tide,
On the tallest prow he settles,
And furls his wings so wide.
Are drawn up from the tide,
137
And furls his wings so wide.
Uprises the elder brother,
Uprises the sister too;
“Nay, brother, he comes for shelter!
Spare him! What would you do?”
Uprises the sister too;
“Nay, brother, he comes for shelter!
Spare him! What would you do?”
He laughs and is gone for his rifle.
And steadily takes his aim;
But the wild wind seizes his yellow beard,
And blows it about like flame.
And steadily takes his aim;
But the wild wind seizes his yellow beard,
And blows it about like flame.
Into his eyes the snow sifts,
Till he cannot see aright:
Ah, the cruel gun is baffled!
And the weary hawk takes flight;
Till he cannot see aright:
Ah, the cruel gun is baffled!
And the weary hawk takes flight;
And slowly up he circles,
Higher and higher still;
The fierce wind catches and bears him away
O'er the bleak crest of the hill.
Higher and higher still;
The fierce wind catches and bears him away
O'er the bleak crest of the hill.
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UNDER THE LIGHT-HOUSE.
Beneath the tall, white light-house strayed the children,In the May morning sweet;
About the steep and rough gray rocks they wandered
With hesitating feet;
For scattered far and wide the birds were lying,
Quiet, and cold, and dead,
That met, while they were swiftly winging northward,
The fierce light overhead;
And as the frail moths in the summer evenings
Fly to the candle's blaze,
Rushed wildly at the splendor, finding only
Death in those blinding rays.
And here were bobolink, and wren, and sparrow,
Veery, and oriole.
And purple finch, and rosy grossbeak, swallows,
And king-birds quaint and droll;
Gay soldier blackbirds, wearing on their shoulders
Red, gold-edged epaulets,
And many a homely, brown, red-breasted robin,
Whose voice no child forgets.
And yellow-birds—what shapes of perfect beauty!
What silence after song!
And mingled with them, unfamiliar warblers
That to far woods belong.
139
By scores the dead forms lay,
That, dashed against the tall tower's cruel windows.
Dropped like the spent sea spray.
How many an old and sun-steeped barn, far inland.
Should miss about its eaves
The twitter and the gleam of these swift swallows!
And, swinging 'mid the leaves,
The oriole's nest, all empty in the elm-tree,
Would cold and silent be,
And never more these robins make the meadows
Ring with their ecstasy.
Would not the gay swamp-border miss the blackbirds,
Whistling so loud and clear?
Would not the bobolinks' delicious music
Lose something of its cheer?
“Yet,” thought the wistful children, gazing landward,
“The birds will not be missed;
Others will take their place in field and forest,
Others will keep their tryst:
And we, we only, know how death has met them;
We wonder and we mourn
That from their innocent and bright existence
Thus roughly they are torn.”
And so they laid the sweet, dead shapes together,
Smoothing each ruffled wing,
Perplexed and sorrowful, and pondering deeply
The meaning of this thing.
(Too hard to fathom for the wisest nature
Crowned with the snows of age!)
140
Seemed like a blotted page.
They bore them down from the rough cliffs of granite
To where the grass grew green,
And laid them 'neath the soft turf, all together,
With many a flower between;
And, looking up with wet eyes, saw how brightly
Upon the summer sea
Lay the clear sunlight, how white sails were shining,
And small waves laughed in glee:
And somehow, comfort grew to check their grieving,
A sense of brooding care,
As if, in spite of death, a loving presence
Filled all the viewless air.
“What should we fear?” whispered the little children,
“There is no thing so small
But God will care for it in earth or heaven:
He sees the sparrows fall!”
143
MOZART AT THE FIRESIDE.
Autumn nights grow chilly:
See how faces bloom
By the cheerful fire-light,
In the quiet room!
See how faces bloom
By the cheerful fire-light,
In the quiet room!
Mother's amber necklace,
Father's beard of gold,
Rosy cheeks of little boys
All glowing from the cold,
Father's beard of gold,
Rosy cheeks of little boys
All glowing from the cold,
Basket heaped with barberries,
Coral red and bright,
Little Silver's shaggy fur
All shining in the light!
Coral red and bright,
Little Silver's shaggy fur
All shining in the light!
Barberries bright they 're picking,
And smile and do not speak;
Happy little youngest boy
Kisses mother's cheek,—
And smile and do not speak;
Happy little youngest boy
Kisses mother's cheek,—
First mother's and then father's,
And nestles his pretty head
In the shining fur of Silver,
While they pick the barberries red.
And nestles his pretty head
In the shining fur of Silver,
While they pick the barberries red.
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At the piano sitting,
One touches the beautiful keys;
Silent they sit and listen
To magical melodies.
One touches the beautiful keys;
Silent they sit and listen
To magical melodies.
Heavenly, tender, and hopeful,
Balm for the saddest heart,
Rises the lovely music
Of the divine Mozart!
Balm for the saddest heart,
Rises the lovely music
Of the divine Mozart!
The children hear the birds sing,
And the voices of the May;
They feel the freshness of morning,
Before the toil of the day;
And the voices of the May;
They feel the freshness of morning,
Before the toil of the day;
But father and mother listen
To a deeper undertone,
A strong arm, full of comfort, seems
About life's trouble thrown.
To a deeper undertone,
A strong arm, full of comfort, seems
About life's trouble thrown.
O children, when your summer
Passes, and winter is near,
When the sky is dim that was so bright,
And the way seems long and drear,
Passes, and winter is near,
When the sky is dim that was so bright,
And the way seems long and drear,
Remember the mighty master
Still touches the human heart,
Speaking afar from heaven,
The wonderful Mozart!
Still touches the human heart,
Speaking afar from heaven,
The wonderful Mozart!
145
He can bring back your childhood
With his strains of airy grace,
Till life seems fresh and beautiful
Again for a little space:
With his strains of airy grace,
Till life seems fresh and beautiful
Again for a little space:
With voices of lofty sweetness
He shall encourage you,
Till all good things seem possible,
And Heaven's best promise true;
He shall encourage you,
Till all good things seem possible,
And Heaven's best promise true;
Till health and strength and loveliness
Blossom from stone and clod,
And the sad old world grows bright again
With the cheerfulness of God.
Blossom from stone and clod,
And the sad old world grows bright again
With the cheerfulness of God.
149
THE KAISERBLUMEN.
Have you heard of the Kaiserblume,
O little children sweet,
That grows in the fields of Germany,
Light waving among the wheat?
O little children sweet,
That grows in the fields of Germany,
Light waving among the wheat?
'T is only a simple flower,
But were I to try all day,
Its grace and charm and beauty
I could n't begin to say.
But were I to try all day,
Its grace and charm and beauty
I could n't begin to say.
By field and wood and roadside,
Delicate, hardy, and bold,
It scatters in wild profusion
Its blossoms manifold.
Delicate, hardy, and bold,
It scatters in wild profusion
Its blossoms manifold.
The children love it dearly,
And with dancing feet they go
To seek it with song and laughter;
And all the people know
And with dancing feet they go
To seek it with song and laughter;
And all the people know
Stern Kaiser Wilhelm loves it;
He said, “It shall honored be,
Henceforth 't is the Kaiserblume,
The flower of Germany.”
He said, “It shall honored be,
Henceforth 't is the Kaiserblume,
The flower of Germany.”
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Then he bade his soldiers wear it,
Tied in a gay cockade,
And the quaint and humble blossom
His royal token made.
Tied in a gay cockade,
And the quaint and humble blossom
His royal token made.
Said little Hans to Gretchen,
One summer morning fair,
As they played in the fields together,
And sang in the fragrant air:
One summer morning fair,
As they played in the fields together,
And sang in the fragrant air:
“Oh look at the Kaiserblumen
That grow in the grass so thick!
Let 's gather our arms full, Gretchen,
And take to the Emperor, quick!
That grow in the grass so thick!
Let 's gather our arms full, Gretchen,
And take to the Emperor, quick!
“For never were any so beautiful,
Waving so blue and bright.”
So all they could carry they gathered,
Dancing with their delight.
Waving so blue and bright.”
So all they could carry they gathered,
Dancing with their delight.
Then under the blazing sunshine
They trudged o'er the long, white road
That led to the Kaiser's palace,
With their gayly nodding load.
They trudged o'er the long, white road
That led to the Kaiser's palace,
With their gayly nodding load.
But long ere the streets of the city
They trod with their little feet,
As hot they grew and as tired
As their corn flowers bright and sweet.
They trod with their little feet,
As hot they grew and as tired
As their corn flowers bright and sweet.
151
And Gretchen's cheeks were rosy
With a weary travel stain,
And her tangled hair o'er her blue, blue eyes
Fell down in a golden rain.
With a weary travel stain,
And her tangled hair o'er her blue, blue eyes
Fell down in a golden rain.
And at last all the nodding blossoms
Their shining heads hung down;
But, “Cheer up, Gretchen!” cried little Hans,
We 've almost reached the town.
Their shining heads hung down;
But, “Cheer up, Gretchen!” cried little Hans,
We 've almost reached the town.
“We'll knock at the door of the palace.
And won't he be glad to see
The flowers we 've brought so far for him?
Think, Gretchen, how pleased he'll be!”
And won't he be glad to see
The flowers we 've brought so far for him?
Think, Gretchen, how pleased he'll be!”
So they plodded patiently onward,
And with hands so soft and small
They knocked at the palace portal,
And sweetly did cry and call:
And with hands so soft and small
They knocked at the palace portal,
And sweetly did cry and call:
“Please open the door, O Kaiser!
We 've brought some flowers for you,
Our arms full of Kaiserblumen,
All gay and bright and blue!”
We 've brought some flowers for you,
Our arms full of Kaiserblumen,
All gay and bright and blue!”
But nobody heeded or answered,
Till at last a soldier grand
Bade the weary wanderers leave the gate,
With a gruff and stern command.
Till at last a soldier grand
Bade the weary wanderers leave the gate,
With a gruff and stern command.
152
But, “No!” cried the children, weeping;
Though trembling and sore afraid,
And clasping their faded flowers,
“We must come in!” they said.
Though trembling and sore afraid,
And clasping their faded flowers,
“We must come in!” they said.
A lofty and splendid presence
The echoing stair came down;
To know the king there was no need
That he should wear a crown.
The echoing stair came down;
To know the king there was no need
That he should wear a crown.
And the children cried: “O Kaiser,
We have brought your flowers so far!
And we are so tired and hungry!
See, Emperor, here they are!”
We have brought your flowers so far!
And we are so tired and hungry!
See, Emperor, here they are!”
They held up their withered posies,
While into the Emperor's face
A beautiful light came stealing,
And he stooped with a stately grace;
While into the Emperor's face
A beautiful light came stealing,
And he stooped with a stately grace;
Taking the ruined blossoms,
With gentle words and mild
He comforted with kindness
The heart of each trembling child.
With gentle words and mild
He comforted with kindness
The heart of each trembling child.
And that was a wonderful glory
That the little ones befell!
And when their heads are hoary,
They still will the story tell,
That the little ones befell!
And when their heads are hoary,
They still will the story tell,
153
How they sat at the Kaiser's table,
And dined with princes and kings,
In that far off day of splendor,
Filled full of marvellous things!
And dined with princes and kings,
In that far off day of splendor,
Filled full of marvellous things!
And home, when the sun was setting,
The happy twain were sent,
In a gleaming golden carriage,
With horses magnificent.
The happy twain were sent,
In a gleaming golden carriage,
With horses magnificent.
And like the wildest vision
Of fairy-land it seemed;
Hardly could Hans and Gretchen
Believe they had not dreamed.
Of fairy-land it seemed;
Hardly could Hans and Gretchen
Believe they had not dreamed.
And even their children's children
Eager to hear will be,
How they carried to Kaiser Wilhelm
The flowers of Germany.
Eager to hear will be,
How they carried to Kaiser Wilhelm
The flowers of Germany.
| Poems for children | |