Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

A

MISS WILLOW.

LADY so fine came out of the woods,

All dressed in silvery gray,

Whether satin or velvet, or soft woolen goods,
I'm sure I'm not able to say.

While great drifts were piled in hedgerow and plain,
While fiercely the March winds did blow,
And wildly the tempest in mockery raged,
This lady stepped out in the snow.

I asked a young ash which grew by the wall,
To tell me the fine lady's name;

"Oh yes," he made answer, "no trouble at all;
She has a most enviable fame.

"So modest is she, so dainty and sweet,
Most dearly I love her, 'tis true,

But if no objection the young lady brings,
I'll make her acquainted with you.

"Miss Willow, my friend, Mr. Love-Nature here, Your friendship has gallantly sought,"

Then, in a low whisper, he laughingly said, "We call her Miss Pussy for short."

[blocks in formation]

THE POLLIWOG.

TINY little polliwog

And little brothers three, Lived in the water near a log, As happy as could be.

A-swimming, swimming all the day,
A-sleeping all the night,

And trying, though they were so gay,
To do just what was right.

A-growing, growing all the while,
Because they did their best;
But I'm afraid that you will smile
When I tell you the rest.

One morning, sitting on the log,
They looked in mute surprise;
Four legs had every polliwog,
Where two had met their eyes.

Their mother, letting fall a tear,
Said, "Oh, my polliwogs,

It can't be you that're sitting here!"
For all of them were frogs.

And with their legs they'd grown some lungs;

So you just wait and see;

In summer time their little tongues
Will sing "Ka-chink" with glee.

-Selected.

[blocks in formation]

Are purple with wine;

And the columbines bravely As sentinels stand

On the lookout with all their

Red trumpets in hand.
Meek-faced anemones,
Drooping and sad;
Great yellow violets,

Smiling out glad;
Buttercups' faces,

Beaming and bright;
Clovers, with bonnets-
Some red and some white;
Daisies, their white fingers
Half clasped in prayer;
Dandelions, proud of
The gold of their hair;
Innocents, children,
Guileless and frail,
Meek little faces

[ocr errors]

Upturned and pale;
Wildwood geraniums,
All in their best,
Languidly leaning,

In purple gauze dressed;

All are assembled

This sweet Sabbath day,
To hear what the priest
In his pulpit will say.
Look! white Indian pipes
On the green mosses lie!
Who has been smoking
Profanely so nigh?
Rebuked by the preacher,

The mischief is stopped;
But the sinners, in haste,
Have their little pipes dropped.
Let the wind, with the fragrance
Of fern and black birch,

Blow the smell of the smoking
Clean out of the church.

So much for the preacher;

The sermon comes next.

Shall we tell how he preached it

And what was his text?
Alas! like too many
Grown-up folks who play
At worship in churches
Man-builded to-day,

We heard not the preacher
Expound or discuss;

But we looked at the people,
And they looked at us.
We saw all their dresses,
Their colors and shapes,
The trim of their bonnets,
The cut of their capes.
We heard the wind-organ,
The bee and the bird,

But of Jack in the Pulpit

We heard not a word.

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »