And flies about like the birds,
But it does not sing.
‘First it is a little grub,
And then it is a nice yellow cocoon,
And then the butterfly
Eats its way out soon.
‘They live on dew and honey,
They do not have any hive,
They do not sting like wasps, and bees, and hornets,
And to be as good as they are we should strive.
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‘Here is the bracelet
To wear on her armBy night and by day.When it shines like the sun,All’s going well;But when you are bad,A sharp prick will tell.Farewell, little girl,For now we must part.Make a fairy-box, dear,Of your own happy heart;And take out for allSweet gifts every day,Till all the year roundIs like beautiful May.’
‘I wish I had a quiet tomb,
Where birds, and bees, and butterflies,Would sing upon the hill.’
CHEERFUL voices by the sea-side
Happy children, fresh and rosy,Sang and sported freely there,Often turning friendly glances,Where, neglectful of them all,On his bed among the gray rocks,Mused the pale child, little Paul.For he never joined their pastimes,Never danced upon the sand,Only smiled upon them kindly,Only waved his wasted hand.Many a treasured gift they bore him,Best beloved among them all.Many a…
He that is down need fear no fall,
He that is humble ever shallHave God to be his guide.I am content with what I have,Little be it, or much.And, Lord! Contentment still I crave,Because Thou savest such.Fulness to them a burden is,That go on pilgrimage.Here little, and hereafter bliss,Is best from age to age!
‘Gingerbread,
Your task is done;A soul is won.Take it and goWhere muffins grow,Where sweet loaves riseTo the very skies,And biscuits fairPerfume the air.Away, away!Make no delay;In the sea of flourPlunge this hour.Safe in your breastLet the yeast-cake rest,Till you rise in joy,A white bread boy!’
We mourn the loss of our little pet,
For never more by the fire she’ll sit,Nor play by the old green gate.The little grave where her infant sleepsIs ‘neath the chestnut tree.But o’er her grave we may not weep,We know not where it may be.Her empty bed, her idle ball,Will never see her more;No gentle tap, no loving purrIs heard at the parlor…