CHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS

Three children sliding on the ice Upon a summer's day, As it fell out they all fell in, The rest they ran away.

Now, had these children been at home, Or sliding on dry ground, Ten thousand pounds to one penny They had not all been drowned.

You parents all that children have, And you too that have none, If you would have them safe abroad Pray keep them safe at home.

Anonymous

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat: They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. [page 76] The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, "Oh lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are! What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl, How charmingly sweet you sing! Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried; But what shall we do for a ring?" They sailed away, for a year and a day, To the land where the bong-tree grows; And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood, With a ring at the end of his nose, His nose, His nose, With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will." So they took it away, and were married next day By the turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, The moon, They danced by the light of the moon.

Edward Lear

Little children, never give Pain to things that feel and live: Let the gentle robin come For the crumbs you save at home,— As his meat you throw along He'll repay you with a song; Never hurt the timid hare Peeping from her green grass lair, Let her come and sport and play On the lawn at close of day; The little lark goes soaring high To the bright windows of the sky, Singing as if 'twere always spring, And fluttering on an untired wing,— Oh! let him sing his happy song, Nor do these gentle creatures wrong.

Unknown

How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flow'r!

How skilfully she builds her cell! How neat she spreads the wax! And labors hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes.

In works of labor or of skill, I would be busy too; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. [page 78]

In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be past, That I may give for ev'ry day Some good account at last.

Isaac Watts

Suppose, my little lady, Your doll should break her head, Could you make it whole by crying Till your eyes and nose are red? And wouldn't it be pleasanter To treat it as a joke, And say you're glad 'twas Dolly's, And not your head that broke?

Suppose you're dressed for walking, And the rain comes pouring down, Will it clear off any sooner Because you scold and frown? And wouldn't it be nicer For you to smile than pout, And so make sunshine in the house When there is none without?

Suppose your task, my little man, Is very hard to get, Will it make it any easier For you to sit and fret? And wouldn't it be wiser Than waiting, like a dunce, To go to work in earnest And learn the thing at once? [page 79]

Suppose that some boys have a horse, And some a coach and pair, Will it tire you less while walking To say, "It is n't fair?" And would n't it be nobler To keep your temper sweet, And in your heart be thankful You can walk upon your feet?

And suppose the world don't please you, Nor the way some people do, Do you think the whole creation Will be altered just for you? And isn't it, my boy or girl, The wisest, bravest plan, Whatever comes, or does n't come, To do the best you can?

Phœbe Cary

Twinkle, twinkle, little star; How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.

When the glorious sun is set, When the grass with dew is wet, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. [page 80]

In the dark-blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep; For you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveler in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star!

Anonymous

Thank you, pretty cow, that made Pleasant milk to soak my bread, Every day and every night, Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white

Do not chew the hemlock rank, Growing on the weedy bank; But the yellow cowslips eat, That will make it very sweet.

Where the purple violet grows, Where the bubbling water flows, Where the grass is fresh and fine, Pretty cow, go there and dine.

Jane Taylor

Three little kittens lost their mittens; And they began to cry, O mother dear, We very much fear That we have lost our mittens. [page 81]

Lost your mittens! You naughty kittens! Then you shall have no pie. Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow. No, you shall have no pie. Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

The three little kittens found their mittens, And they began to cry, O mother dear, See here, see here; See, we have found our mittens.

Put on your mittens, You silly kittens, And you may have some pie. Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r, O let us have the pie. Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r.

The three little kittens put on their mittens, And soon ate up the pie; O mother dear, We greatly fear That we have soiled our mittens.

Soiled your mittens! You naughty kittens! Then they began to sigh, Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow, Then they began to sigh. Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

The three little kittens washed their mittens, And hung them out to dry; O mother dear, Do not you hear, That we have washed our mittens? [page 82]

Washed your mittens! O, you're good kittens. But I smell a rat close by; Hush! hush! mee-ow, mee-ow. We smell a rat close by, Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

Eliza Lee Follen

When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so I watched my leaden soldiers go, With different uniforms and drills, Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets All up and down among the sheets; Or brought my trees and houses out, And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still That sits upon the pillow-hill, And sees before him, dale and plain, The pleasant land of counterpane.

Robert Louis Stevenson

There was a little girl, And she had a little curl Right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good She was very, very good, And when she was bad she was horrid. [page 83]

One day she went upstairs, When her parents, unawares, In the kitchen were occupied with meals, And she stood upon her head In her little trundle-bed, And then began hooraying with her heels.

Her mother heard the noise, And she thought it was the boys A-playing at a combat in the attic; But when she climbed the stair, And found Jemima there, She took and she did spank her most emphatic.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Once there was a little boy, With curly hair and pleasant eye— A boy who always told the truth, And never, never told a lie.

And when he trotted off to school, The children all about would cry, "There goes the curly-headed boy— The boy that never tells a lie."

And everybody loved him so, Because he always told the truth, That every day, as he grew up, 'Twas said, "There goes the honest youth."

And when the people that stood near Would turn to ask the reason why, The answer would be always this: "Because he never tells a lie."

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, O! don't you wish that you were me?

You have seen the scarlet trees And the lions over seas; You have eaten ostrich eggs, And turned the turtles off their legs.

Such a life is very fine, But it's not so nice as mine: You must often, as you trod, Have wearied not to be abroad.

You have curious things to eat, I am fed on proper meat; You must dwell beyond the foam, But I am safe and live at home. Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, O! don't you wish that you were me?

Robert Louis Stevenson

When children are playing alone on the green, In comes the playmate that never was seen. When children are happy and lonely and good, The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood. [page 85]

Nobody heard him and nobody saw, His is a picture you never could draw, But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home, When children are happy, and playing alone.

He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass, He sings when you tinkle the musical glass; Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why, The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!

He loves to be little, he hates to be big, 'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig; 'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of tin That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.

'Tis he when at night; you go off to your bed, Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your head; For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf, 'Tis he will take care of your playthings himself!

Robert Louis Stevenson

I saw three ships come sailing in, On Christmas day, on Christmas day; I saw three ships come sailing in, On Christmas day in the morning.

Pray whither sailed those ships all three On Christmas day, on Christmas day? Pray whither sailed those ships all three On Christmas day in the morning? [page 86]

Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem On Christmas day, on Christmas day; Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem On Christmas day in the morning.

And all the bells on earth shall ring On Christmas day, on Christmas day; And all the bells on earth shall ring On Christmas day in the morning.

And all the angels in heaven shall sing On Christmas day, on Christmas day; And all the angels in heaven shall sing On Christmas day in the morning.

And all the souls on earth shall sing On Christmas day, on Christmas day; And all the souls on earth shall sing On Christmas day in the morning.

Old Carol

A was an ant Who seldom stood still, And who made a nice house In the side of a hill. a Nice little ant!

B was a book With a binding of blue, And pictures and stories For me and for you. b Nice little book! [page 87]

C was a cat Who ran after a rat; But his courage did fail When she seized on his tail. c Crafty old cat!

D was a duck With spots on his back, Who lived in the water, And always said "Quack!" d Dear little duck!

E was an elephant, Stately and wise: He had tusks and a trunk, And two queer little eyes, e Oh, what funny small eyes!

F was a fish Who was caught in a net; But he got out again, And is quite alive yet. f Lively young fish!

G was a goat Who was spotted with brown: When he did not lie still He walked up and down. g Good little goat! [page 88]

H was a hat Which was all on one side; Its crown was too high, And its brim was too wide. h Oh, what a hat!

I was some ice So white and so nice, But which nobody tasted; And so it was wasted. i All that good ice!

J was a jackdaw Who hopped up and down In the principal street Of a neighboring town. j All through the town!

K was a kite Which flew out of sight, Above houses so high, Quite into the sky. k Fly away, kite!

L was a light Which burned all the night, And lighted the gloom Of a very dark room. l Useful nice light! [page 89]

M was a mill Which stood on a hill, And turned round and round With a loud hummy sound. m Useful old mill!

N was a net Which was thrown in the sea To catch fish for dinner For you and for me. n Nice little net!

O was an orange So yellow and round: When it fell off the tree, It fell down to the ground; o Down to the ground!

P was a pig, Who was not very big; But his tail was too curly, And that made him surly. p Cross little pig!

Q was a quail With a very short tail; And he fed upon corn In the evening and morn. q Quaint little quail! [page 90]

R was a rabbit, Who had a bad habit Of eating the flowers In gardens and bowers. r Naughty fat rabbit!

S was the sugar-tongs, Nippity-nee, To take up the sugar To put in our tea. s Nippity-nee!

T was a tortoise, All yellow and black: He walked slowly away, And he never came back. t Torty never came back!

U was an urn All polished and bright, And full of hot water At noon and at night. u Useful old urn!

V was a villa Which stood on a hill, By the side of a river, And close to a mill. v Nice little villa! [page 91]

W was a whale With a very long tail, Whose movements were frantic Across the Atlantic. w Monstrous old whale!

X was King Xerxes, Who, more than all Turks is, Renowned for his fashion Of fury and passion. x Angry old Xerxes!

Y was a yew, Which flourished and grew By a quiet abode Near the side of a road. y Dark little yew!

Z was some zinc, So shiny and bright, Which caused you to wink In the sun's merry light. z Beautiful zinc!

Edward Lear

Said the Table to the Chair, "You can hardly be aware How I suffer from the heat And from chilblains on my feet. [page 92]

If we took a little walk, We might have a little talk; Pray let us take the air," Said the Table to the Chair.

Said the Chair unto the Table, "Now, you know we are not able: How foolishly you talk, When you know we cannot walk!" Said the Table with a sigh, "It can do no harm to try. I've as many legs as you: Why can't we walk on two?"

So they both went slowly down, And walked about the town With a cheerful bumpy sound As they toddled round and round; And everybody cried, As they hastened to their side, "See! the Table and the Chair Have come out to take the air!"

But in going down an alley, To a castle in a valley, They completely lost their way, And wandered all the day; Till, to see them safely back, They paid a Ducky-quack, And a Beetle, and a Mouse, Who took them to their house.

Then they whispered to each other, "O delightful little brother, What a lovely walk we've taken! Let us dine on beans and bacon." So the Ducky and the leetle Browny-Mousy and the Beetle Dined, and danced upon their heads Till they toddled to their beds.

Edward Lear

Where are you going to, you little pig? "I'm leaving my Mother, I'm growing so big!" So big, young pig, So young, so big! What, leaving your Mother, you foolish young pig?

Where are you going to, you little pig? "I've got a new spade, and I'm going to dig!" To dig, little pig! A little pig dig! Well, I never saw a pig with a spade that could dig!

Where are you going to, you little pig? "Why, I'm going to have a nice ride in a gig!" In a gig, little pig! What, a pig in a gig! Well, I never yet saw a pig ride in a gig!

Where are you going to, you little pig? "Well, I'm going to the Queen's Head to have a nice swig!" A swig, little pig! A pig have a swig! What, a pig at the Queen's Head having a swig! [page 94]

Where are you going to, you little pig? "Why, I'm going to the Ball to dance a fine jig!" A jig, little pig! A pig dance a jig! Well, I never before saw a pig dance a jig!

Where are you going to, you little pig? "I'm going to the fair to run a fine rig!" A rig, little pig! A pig run a rig! Well, I never before saw a pig run a rig!

Where are you going to, you little pig? "I'm going to the Barber's to buy me a wig!" A wig, little pig! A pig in a wig! Why, whoever before saw a pig in a wig!

· · · · · · · · · ·

Thomas Hood

Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lies asleep, Up the river and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the blackbird sings the latest, Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest, Where the nestlings chirp and flee, That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the mowers mow the cleanest, Where the hay lies thick and greenest, There to trace the homeward bee, That's the way for Billy and me. [page 95]

Where the hazel bank is steepest, Where the shadow falls the deepest, Where the clustering nuts fall free, That's the way for Billy and me.

Why the boys should drive away Little sweet maidens from the play, Or love to banter and fight so well, That's the thing I never could tell.

But this I know, I love to play, Through the meadow, among the hay; Up the water and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me.

James Hogg

Buttercups and daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers; Coming ere the spring time, To tell of sunny hours. While the trees are leafless, While the fields are bare, Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there.

Ere the snowdrop peepeth, Ere the crocus bold, Ere the early primrose Opes its paly gold, Somewhere on the sunny bank Buttercups are bright; Somewhere 'mong the frozen grass Peeps the daisy white. [page 96]

Little hardy flowers, Like to children poor, Playing in their sturdy health By their mother's door, Purple with the north wind, Yet alert and bold; Fearing not, and caring not, Though they be a-cold!

What to them is winter! What are stormy showers! Buttercups and daisies Are these human flowers! He who gave them hardships And a life of care, Gave them likewise hardy strength And patient hearts to bear.

Mary Howitt

Down in a green and shady bed A modest violet grew; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.

And yet it was a lovely flower, Its color bright and fair; It might have graced a rosy bower Instead of hiding there.

Yet there it was content to bloom, In modest tints arrayed; And there diffused its sweet perfume Within the silent shade. [page 97]

Then let me to the valley go, This pretty flower to see, That I may also learn to grow In sweet humility.

Jane Taylor

If ever I see, On bush or tree, Young birds in their pretty nest, I must not in play, Steal the birds away, To grieve their mother's breast.

My mother, I know, Would sorrow so, Should I be stolen away; So I'll speak to the birds In my softest words, Nor hurt them in my play.

And when they can fly In the bright blue sky, They'll warble a song to me; And then if I'm sad It will make me glad To think they are happy and free.

Lydia Maria Child

When at home alone I sit And am very tired of it, I have just to shut my eyes To go sailing through the skies— [page 98]

To go sailing far away To the pleasant Land of Play; To the fairy land afar Where the Little People are; Where the clover-tops are trees, And the rain-pools are the seas, And the leaves like little ships Sail about on tiny trips; And above the daisy tree Through the grasses, High o'erhead the Bumble Bee Hums and passes. In that forest to and fro I can wander, I can go; See the spider and the fly, And the ants go marching by Carrying parcels with their feet Down the green and grassy street I can in the sorrel sit Where the ladybird alit. I can climb the jointed grass; And on high See the greater swallows pass In the sky, And the round sun rolling by Heeding no such thing as I.

Through the forest I can pass Till, as in a looking-glass, Humming fly and daisy tree And my tiny self I see, Painted very clear and neat On the rain-pool at my feet. Should a leaflet come to land Drifting near to where I stand, Straight I'll board that tiny boat Round the rain-pool sea to float. [page 99]

Little thoughtful creatures sit On the grassy coasts of it; Little things with lovely eyes See me sailing with surprise. Some are clad in armor green— (These have sure to battle been!) Some are pied with ev'ry hue, Black and crimson, gold and blue; Some have wings and swift are gone;— But they all look kindly on.

When my eyes I once again Open and see all things plain; High bare walls, great bare floor; Great big knobs on drawer and door; Great big people perched on chairs, Stitching tucks and mending tears, Each a hill that I could climb, And talking nonsense all the time— O dear me, That I could be A sailor on the rain-pool sea, A climber in the clover-tree, And just come back, a sleepy-head, Late at night to go to bed.

Robert Louis Stevenson

"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? [page 100] Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance? Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance? "You can really have no notion how delightful it will be When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!" But the snail replied, "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance— Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance, Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance. "What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied, "There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England the nearer is to France— Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance? Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?" Lewis Carroll

Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along forever With trees on either hand. [page 101]

Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating— Where will all come home?

On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill.

Away down the river, A hundred miles or more, Other little children Shall bring my boats ashore.

Robert Louis Stevenson

Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out; You stare In the air Like a ghost in a chair, Always looking what I am about— I hate to be watched; I'll blow you out."

The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon. So, deep On a heap Of clouds to sleep, Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon, Muttering low, "I've done for that Moon."

He turned in his bed; she was there again! On high In the sky, With her one ghost eye, The Moon shone white and alive and plain. Said the Wind, "I will blow you out again." [page 102]

The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim. "With my sledge, And my wedge, I have knocked off her edge! If only I blow right fierce and grim, The creature will soon be dimmer than dim."

He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread, "One puff More's enough To blow her to snuff! One good puff more where the last was bred, And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread."

He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone. In the air Nowhere Was a moonbeam bare; Far off and harmless the shy stars shone— Sure and certain the Moon was gone!

The Wind he took to his revels once more; On down, In town, Like a merry-mad clown, He leaped and hallooed with whistle and roar— "What's that?" The glimmering thread once more!

He flew in a rage—he danced and blew; But in vain Was the pain Of his bursting brain; For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew, The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew. [page 103]

Slowly she grew—till she filled the night, And shone On her throne In the sky alone, A matchless, wonderful silvery light, Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night.

Said the Wind: "What a marvel of power am I! With my breath, Good faith! I blew her to death— First blew her away right out of the sky— Then blew her in; what strength have I!"

But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair; For high In the sky, With her one white eye, Motionless, miles above the air, She had never heard the great Wind blare.

George Macdonald

"Where are you going, my pretty maid?" "I am going a-milking, sir," she said. "May I go with you, my pretty maid?" "You're kindly welcome, sir," she said. "What is your father, my pretty maid?" "My father's a farmer, sir," she said. "What is your fortune, my pretty maid?" "My face is my fortune, sir," she said. "Then I won't marry your my pretty maid." "Nobody asked you, sir," she said.

Anonymous

I once had a sweet little doll, dears, The prettiest doll in the world; Her cheeks were so red and white, dears, And her hair was so charmingly curled. But I lost my poor little doll, dears, As I played on the heath one day; And I cried for her more than a week, dears, But I never could find where she lay.

I found my poor little doll, dears, As I played on the heath one day; Folks say she is terribly changed, dears, For her paint is all washed away, And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears, And her hair not the least bit curled; Yet for old sake's sake, she is still, dears, The prettiest doll in the world.

Charles Kingsley

Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the trunk with both my hands And looked abroad on foreign lands.

I saw the next-door garden lie, Adorned with flowers, before my eye, And many pleasant faces more That I had never seen before. [page 105]

I saw the dimpling river pass And be the sky's blue looking-glass; The dusty roads go up and down With people tramping in to town.

If I could find a higher tree Farther and farther I should see, To where the grown-up river slips Into the sea among the ships,

To where the roads on either hand Lead onward into fairy land, Where all the children dine at five, And all the playthings come alive.

Robert Louis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer, quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day?

Robert Louis Stevenson

'Tis a lesson you should heed, Try, try, try again; If at first you don't succeed, Try, try, try again.

Once or twice though you should fail Try again; If you would at last prevail, Try again. If we strive, 'tis no disgrace Though we may not win the race; What should you do in that case? Try again.

If you find your task is hard, Try again; Time will bring you your reward, Try again. All that other folks can do, With your patience should not you? Only keep this rule in view— Try again.

Anonymous

We built a ship upon the stairs All made of the back-bedroom chairs, And filled it full of sofa pillows To go a-sailing on the billows. [page 107]

We took a saw and several nails, And water in the nursery pails; And Tom said, "Let us also take An apple and a slice of cake;"— Which was enough for Tom and me To go a-sailing on, till tea.

We sailed along for days and days, And had the very best of plays; But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, So there was no one left but me.

Robert Louis Stevenson

A fair little girl sat under a tree Sewing as long as her eyes could see; Then smoothed her work and folded it right, And said, "Dear work, good night, good night!"

Such a number of rooks came over her head, Crying, "Caw, caw!" on their way to bed, She said, as she watched their curious flight, "Little black things, good night, good night!"

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed, The sheep's "Bleat! bleat!" came over the road; All seeming to say, with a quiet delight, "Good little girl, good night, good night!"

She did not say to the sun, "Good night!" Though she saw him there like a ball of light; For she knew he had God's time to keep All over the world and never could sleep. [page 108]

The tall pink foxglove bowed his head; The violets courtesied, and went to bed; And good little Lucy tied up her hair, And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer.

And, while on her pillow she softly lay, She knew nothing more till again it was day; And all things said to the beautiful sun, "Good morning, good morning! our work is begun."

Richard Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton)

I saw you toss the kites on high And blow the birds about the sky; And all around I heard you pass, Like ladies' skirts across the grass— O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I saw the different things you did, But always you yourself you hid. I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all— O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!

O you that are so strong and cold, O blower, are you young or old? Are you a beast of field and tree, Or just a stronger child than me? O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!

Robert Louis Stevenson

"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the 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 curious things to show when you are there." "Oh no, no," said the little fly; "to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again." "I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high. Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin, And if you like to rest a while, I'll snugly tuck you in!" "Oh no, no," said the little fly, "for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again who sleep upon your bed!" Said the cunning spider to the fly: "Dear friend, what can I do To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you? I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome—will you please to take a slice?" "Oh no, no," said the little fly; "kind sir, that cannot be: I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!" "Sweet creature!" said the spider, "you're witty and you're wise; How handsome are your gauzy wings; how brilliant are your eyes! I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf; If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." "I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, And, bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day." [page 110] The spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again: So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly, And set his table ready to dine upon the fly; Then came out to his door again, and merrily did sing: "Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with pearl and silver wing; Your robes are green and purple; there's a crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!" Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes and green and purple hue, Thinking only of her crested head. Poor, foolish thing! at last Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast; He dragged her up his winding stair, into the dismal den— Within his little parlor—but she ne'er came out again! And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words I pray you ne'er give heed; Unto an evil counselor close heart and ear and eye, And take a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly. Mary Howitt

Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For God hath made them so; Let bears and lions growl and fight, For 'tis their nature to; [page 111]

But, children, you should never let Your angry passions rise: Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes.

Let love through all your actions run, And all your words be mild; Live like the blessèd Virgin's Son,— That sweet and lovely child.

His soul was gentle as a lamb; And as his stature grew, He grew in favor both with man And God his father, too.

Now, Lord of all, he reigns above; And from his heavenly throne, He sees what children dwell in love, And marks them for his own.

Isaac Watts

Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening Steal across the sky.

Now the darkness gathers, Stars begin to peep, Birds and beasts and flowers Soon will be asleep.

Jesu, give the weary Calm and sweet repose; With thy tenderest blessing May our eyelids close. [page 112]

Grant to little children Visions bright of thee; Guard the sailors tossing On the deep blue sea.

Comfort every sufferer Watching late in pain; Those who plan some evil From their sin restrain.

Through the long night-watches May thine angels spread Their white wings above me, Watching round my bed.

When the morning wakens, Then may I arise Pure and fresh and sinless In thy holy eyes.

Glory to the Father, Glory to the Son, And to thee, blessed Spirit, Whilst all ages run. Amen.

Sabine Baring-Gould