In the other gardens And all up the vale, From the autumn bonfires See the smoke trail! Pleasant summer over And all the summer flowers; The red fire blazes, The grey smoke towers. Sing a song of seasons! Something bright in all! Flowers in the summer, Fires in the fall!
The grass so little has to do,– A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain, And stir all day to pretty tunes The breezes fetch along, And hold the sunshine in its lap And bow to everything; And thread the dews all night, like pearls, And make itself so […]
Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon’s sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be! In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy […]
On the wide lawn the snow lay deep, Ridged o’er with many a drifted heap; The wind that through the pine-trees sung The naked elm-boughs tossed and swung; While, through the window, frosty-starred, Against the sunset purple barred, We saw the sombre crow flap by, The hawk’s gray fleck along the sky, The crested blue-jay […]
“Will you walk into my parlor?” Said a spider to a fly; “‘Tis the prettiest little parlor That ever you did spy. The way into my parlor Is up a winding stair, And I have many pretty things To show you when you’re there.” “O no, no,” said the little fly, “To ask me is […]
They went to sea in a sieve, they did; In a sieve they went to sea: In spite of all their friends could say, On a winter’s morn, on a stormy day, In a sieve they went to sea. And when the sieve turned round and round, And every one cried, “You’ll all be drowned!” […]
“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle–will you come and join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will […]
Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I; And fast I gather, bit by bit, The scattered driftwood bleached and dry. The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, As up and down the beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I. Above our […]