We are glad to see you here,
For you sing ‘Sweet Spring is near.’
Now the white snow melts away;
Now the flowers blossom gay:
Come dear bird and build your nest,
For we love our robin best.
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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…
‘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.’
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Golden shadows like soft blessingsO’er a quiet little bed,Where a pale face lay unheedingTender tears that o’er it fell;No sorrow now could touch the heartOf gentle little Nell.Ah, with what silent patient strengthThe frail form lying thereHad borne its heavy load of grief,Of loneliness and care.Now, earthly burdens were laid down,And on the meek young…
Mysterious death! who in a single hour
And by thy art divineChange mortal weakness to immortal power!Bending beneath the weight of eighty yearsSpent with the noble strifeof a victorious lifeWe watched her fading heavenward, through our tears.But ere the sense of loss our hearts had wrungA miracle was wrought;And swift as happy thoughtShe lived again — brave, beautiful, and young.Age, pain, and…
O flower at my window
With your green and purple cupUpturned to sun and air?‘I bloom, blithesome Bessie,To cheer your childish heart;The world is full of labor,And this shall be my part.’Whirl, busy wheel, faster,Spin, little thread, spin;The sun shines fair without,And we are gay within.O robin in the tree-top,With sunshine on your breast,Why brood you so patientlyAbove your hidden…