 | Flowers for children |  |
Part III.
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TO A LITTLE GIRL, WALKING IN THE WOOD.
Whither art going, dear Annette?
Your little feet you'll surely wet;
For don't you see the streamlet flow
Across the path where you must go?
Your shawl is twisted out of place,
Your bonnet's blowing off your face;
You know not how the playful air
Is tangling up your curly hair.
Your little feet you'll surely wet;
For don't you see the streamlet flow
Across the path where you must go?
Your shawl is twisted out of place,
Your bonnet's blowing off your face;
You know not how the playful air
Is tangling up your curly hair.
Lady, my feet I often wet,
But it has never harmed me yet.
I love to have the fresh warm air
Playing about my face and hair;
It makes me lively, bright, and strong;
And clears the voice for my morning song.
But it has never harmed me yet.
I love to have the fresh warm air
Playing about my face and hair;
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And clears the voice for my morning song.
But do you often go alone,
So far away from your own dear home?
Not even a dog to frisk and play,
And guide you on your lonely way?
So far away from your own dear home?
Not even a dog to frisk and play,
And guide you on your lonely way?
My mother cannot spare the maid,
And I am not at all afraid.
The wind plays mischief with my curls,
But does no harm to little girls.
There cannot be a lonely way,
When Spring makes every thing so gay.
The birds are warbling forth a tune
To welcome dear delightful June;
In the running brook, the speckled trout,
At sight of my shadow, glides about;
The little miller in the grass
Flies away for my feet to pass;
And busy bees, through shining hours,
Play hide-and-seek in opening flowers;
The bright blue sky is clear and mild;
How can there be a lonesome child?
And I am not at all afraid.
The wind plays mischief with my curls,
But does no harm to little girls.
There cannot be a lonely way,
When Spring makes every thing so gay.
The birds are warbling forth a tune
To welcome dear delightful June;
In the running brook, the speckled trout,
At sight of my shadow, glides about;
The little miller in the grass
Flies away for my feet to pass;
And busy bees, through shining hours,
Play hide-and-seek in opening flowers;
The bright blue sky is clear and mild;
How can there be a lonesome child?
Sweet wanderer in the cool green wood,
I know your little heart is good;
And that is why the fair earth seems
Just waking up from heavenly dreams.
There's something in your gentle voice
That makes my inmost heart rejoice.
Pray, if it be not rudely said,
What's in your basket, little maid?
I know your little heart is good;
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Just waking up from heavenly dreams.
There's something in your gentle voice
That makes my inmost heart rejoice.
Pray, if it be not rudely said,
What's in your basket, little maid?
Lady, the nurse, who watched my slumber,
And told me stories without number,
Is now too ill to work for pay,
And she grows poorer every day.
Custards, and broth, and jellies good,
My mother sends to her for food.
I bring the water from her well,
And all my pretty stories tell.
Sometimes she loves to hear me read;
Her little garden I can weed;
And half the money in my purse
I gladly save for dear old nurse.
But if I stay to talk so free,
She'll wonder where Annette can be.
And told me stories without number,
Is now too ill to work for pay,
And she grows poorer every day.
Custards, and broth, and jellies good,
My mother sends to her for food.
I bring the water from her well,
And all my pretty stories tell.
Sometimes she loves to hear me read;
Her little garden I can weed;
And half the money in my purse
I gladly save for dear old nurse.
But if I stay to talk so free,
She'll wonder where Annette can be.
Farewell, sweet wanderer of the wood,
I knew your little heart was good;
And that is why the fair earth seems
Just waking up from heavenly dreams.
I knew your little heart was good;
And that is why the fair earth seems
Just waking up from heavenly dreams.
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AUNT MARIA'S SWALLOWS.
A TRUE STORY.
“Petit a petit,
L'oiseau fait son nid.”
L'oiseau fait son nid.”
Twas in the spring-time of the year,
The latter part of May,
When two small birds, with merry cheer,
Came to our house one day.
The latter part of May,
When two small birds, with merry cheer,
Came to our house one day.
I watched them with a loving smile,
As they glanced in and out.
And in their busy, chirping style,
Went peering all about.
As they glanced in and out.
And in their busy, chirping style,
Went peering all about.
I knew that they would build a nest;
And joy it was to me,
That the place they liked the best,
Beneath our roof should be.
And joy it was to me,
That the place they liked the best,
Beneath our roof should be.
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In the crotch of a sheltering beam,
They found a cozy spot;
And never before or since, I ween,
Chose birds a better lot.
They found a cozy spot;
And never before or since, I ween,
Chose birds a better lot.
The green boughs of a tall old tree
Gave them a pleasant shade,
While, through an arch, they well could see
Where sun and river played.
Gave them a pleasant shade,
While, through an arch, they well could see
Where sun and river played.
And here they came in sunny hours,
And here their nest they made,
Safe, as if hid in greenwood bowers,
For none their will gainsaid.
And here their nest they made,
Safe, as if hid in greenwood bowers,
For none their will gainsaid.
I think they felt a friendly sphere,
And knew we loved them dearly;
For they seemed to have no thought of fear,
And planned their household cheerly.
And knew we loved them dearly;
For they seemed to have no thought of fear,
And planned their household cheerly.
They fanned me with their busy wings,
And buzzed about my head;
Never were such familiar things
In field or forest bred.
And buzzed about my head;
Never were such familiar things
In field or forest bred.
The father was a gentle bird,
Right gracefully he wooed,
And softer notes were never heard,
Than to his mate he cooed.
Right gracefully he wooed,
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Than to his mate he cooed.
And, when their clay-built nest she lined,
He'd go, in sunny weather,
And search and search, till he could find
Some little downy feather.
He'd go, in sunny weather,
And search and search, till he could find
Some little downy feather.
Then high would swell his loving breast,
He felt so very proud,
And he would sidle to the nest,
And call to her aloud.
He felt so very proud,
And he would sidle to the nest,
And call to her aloud.
And she would raise her glossy head,
And make a mighty stir,
To see if it were hair or thread,
That he had brought for her.
And make a mighty stir,
To see if it were hair or thread,
That he had brought for her.
And she would take it from his bill,
With such an easy grace,
As courtly beauties sometimes will
Accept a veil of lace.
With such an easy grace,
As courtly beauties sometimes will
Accept a veil of lace.
They did not know, the pretty things!
How beautiful they were!
Whether they moved with rapid wings,
Or balanced on the air.
How beautiful they were!
Whether they moved with rapid wings,
Or balanced on the air.
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And yet they almost seemed to know
They had a winsome grace;
As if they meant to make a show,
They'd choose their resting-place.
They had a winsome grace;
As if they meant to make a show,
They'd choose their resting-place.
On a suspended hoop they'd swing,
Swayed by the buoyant air,
Or, perched on upright hoe, would sing
Songs of a loving pair.
Swayed by the buoyant air,
Or, perched on upright hoe, would sing
Songs of a loving pair.
Swiftly as rays of golden light,
They glanced forth to and fro,
So rapid, that the keenest sight
Could scarcely see them go.
They glanced forth to and fro,
So rapid, that the keenest sight
Could scarcely see them go.
The lover proved a husband kind,
Attentive to his mate;
He helped her when the nest was lined,
And never staid out late.
Attentive to his mate;
He helped her when the nest was lined,
And never staid out late.
And while she hatched, with patient care,
He took his turn to brood,
That she might skim along the air,
To find her needful food.
He took his turn to brood,
That she might skim along the air,
To find her needful food.
He did it with an awkward hop,
And the eggs seemed like to break,
Just as some clumsy man would mop,
Or thread and needle take.
And the eggs seemed like to break,
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Or thread and needle take.
But there with patient love he sat,
And kept the eggs right warm,
And sharply watched for dog or cat,
Until his mate's return.
And kept the eggs right warm,
And sharply watched for dog or cat,
Until his mate's return.
And when the young birds broke the shell,
He took a generous share
In her hourly task to feed them well,
With insects from the air.
He took a generous share
In her hourly task to feed them well,
With insects from the air.
But, when they taught the brood to fly,
'Twas curious to see
How hard the parent birds would try,
And twitter coaxingly.
'Twas curious to see
How hard the parent birds would try,
And twitter coaxingly.
From beam to beam, from floor to nest,
With eager haste they flew;
They could not take a moment's rest,
They had so much to do.
With eager haste they flew;
They could not take a moment's rest,
They had so much to do.
For a long while they vainly strived,
Both male and female swallow;
In vain they soared, in vain they dived,
The young ones would not follow.
Both male and female swallow;
In vain they soared, in vain they dived,
The young ones would not follow.
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The little helpless timid things
Looked up, and looked below,
And thought, before they tried their wings,
They'd take more time to grow.
Looked up, and looked below,
And thought, before they tried their wings,
They'd take more time to grow.
The parents seemed, at last, to tire
Of their incessant labors;
And forth they went, to beg or hire
Assistance from their neighbors.
Of their incessant labors;
And forth they went, to beg or hire
Assistance from their neighbors.
And soon they came, with rushing noise,
Some eight or ten, or more,
Much like a troop of merry boys,
Before the school-house door.
Some eight or ten, or more,
Much like a troop of merry boys,
Before the school-house door.
They flew about, and perched about,
In every sort of style,
And called aloud, with constant shout,
And watched the nest the while.
In every sort of style,
And called aloud, with constant shout,
And watched the nest the while.
The little birds, they seemed half crazed,
So well they liked the fun;
Yet were the simple things amazed
To see how it was done.
So well they liked the fun;
Yet were the simple things amazed
To see how it was done.
They gazed upon the playful flock,
With eager, beaming eyes,
And tried their winged ways to mock,
And mock their twittering cries.
With eager, beaming eyes,
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And mock their twittering cries.
They stretched themselves, with many a shake
And oft, before they flew,
Did they their feathery toilet make,
And with a great ado.
And oft, before they flew,
Did they their feathery toilet make,
And with a great ado.
Three times the neighbors came that day
To teach their simple rules,
According to the usual way,
In all the Flying Schools.
To teach their simple rules,
According to the usual way,
In all the Flying Schools.
The perpendicular they taught,
And the graceful parallel;
And sure I am, the younglings ought
To learn their lessons well.
And the graceful parallel;
And sure I am, the younglings ought
To learn their lessons well.
Down from the nest at last they dropped,
As if half dead with fear;
And round among the logs they hopped,
Their parents hovering near.
As if half dead with fear;
And round among the logs they hopped,
Their parents hovering near.
Then back again they feebly flew,
To rest from their great labors,
And twittered a polite adieu
To all their friendly neighbors.
To rest from their great labors,
And twittered a polite adieu
To all their friendly neighbors.
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Next day, they fluttered up and down:
One perched upon my cap;
Another on the old loose gown,
In which I take my nap.
One perched upon my cap;
Another on the old loose gown,
In which I take my nap.
Each day they practised many hours,
Till they mounted up so high,
I thought they would be caught in showers,
And never get home dry.
Till they mounted up so high,
I thought they would be caught in showers,
And never get home dry.
But when the sun sank in the west,
My favorites would return,
And sit around their little nest,
Like figures on an urn.
My favorites would return,
And sit around their little nest,
Like figures on an urn.
And there they dropped away to sleep,
With heads beneath their wings.
I would have given much to keep
The precious little things.
With heads beneath their wings.
I would have given much to keep
The precious little things.
But soon the nest became too small,
They grew so big and stout;
And when it would not hold them all,
They had some fallings out.
They grew so big and stout;
And when it would not hold them all,
They had some fallings out.
Three of the five first went away,
To roost on the tall old tree;
But back and forth they came all day,
Their sister-kins to see.
To roost on the tall old tree;
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Their sister-kins to see.
My heart was sad to find, one night,
That none came back to me;
I saw them, by the dim twilight,
Flock to the tall old tree.
That none came back to me;
I saw them, by the dim twilight,
Flock to the tall old tree.
But still they often met together,
Near that little clay-built nest;
'Twas in the rainiest weather
They seemed to like it best.
Near that little clay-built nest;
'Twas in the rainiest weather
They seemed to like it best.
Yet often, when the sun was clear,
They'd leave their winged troops,
Again to visit scenes so dear,
And swing upon the hoops.
They'd leave their winged troops,
Again to visit scenes so dear,
And swing upon the hoops.
Just as when human beings roam,
The busy absent brother
Loves to re-visit his old home,
Where lived his darling mother.
The busy absent brother
Loves to re-visit his old home,
Where lived his darling mother.
Months passed away, and still they came,
When stars began to rise,
And flew around our window pane,
To catch the sleepy flies.
When stars began to rise,
And flew around our window pane,
To catch the sleepy flies.
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Into our supper-room they flew,
And circled round my head;
For well the pretty creatures knew
They had no cause for dread.
And circled round my head;
For well the pretty creatures knew
They had no cause for dread.
But winter comes, and they are gone
After the Southern sun;
And left their human friends alone,
To wish that spring would come.
After the Southern sun;
And left their human friends alone,
To wish that spring would come.
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