 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
BEAUTIFUL THINGS.
What millions of beautiful things there must be
In this mighty world!—who could reckon them all?
The tossing, the foaming, the wide flowing sea,
And thousands of rivers that into it fall.
In this mighty world!—who could reckon them all?
The tossing, the foaming, the wide flowing sea,
And thousands of rivers that into it fall.
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O there are the mountains, half cover'd with snow,
With tall and dark trees, like a girdle of green,
And waters that wind in the valleys below,
Or roar in the caverns, too deep to be seen.
With tall and dark trees, like a girdle of green,
And waters that wind in the valleys below,
Or roar in the caverns, too deep to be seen.
Vast caves in the earth, full of wonderful things,
The bones of strange animals, jewels, and spars;
Or, far up in Iceland, the hot boiling springs,
Like fountains of feathers, or showers of stars!
The bones of strange animals, jewels, and spars;
Or, far up in Iceland, the hot boiling springs,
Like fountains of feathers, or showers of stars!
Here spread the sweet meadows with thousands of flowers;
Far away are old woods, that for ages remain;
Wild elephants sleep in the shade of their bowers,
Or troops of voung antelopes traverse the plain.
Far away are old woods, that for ages remain;
Wild elephants sleep in the shade of their bowers,
Or troops of voung antelopes traverse the plain.
O yes, they are glorious all to behold,
And pleasant to read of, and curious to know,
And something of God and His wisdom we're told,
Whatever we look at—wherever we go.
And pleasant to read of, and curious to know,
And something of God and His wisdom we're told,
Whatever we look at—wherever we go.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |