Puslapio vaizdai

Left by the Royal Humming Birds,

Who sip and pay with fine-spun words;
Fellow with all the lowliest,

Peer of the gayest and the best;
Comrade of winds, beloved of sun,
Kissed by the Dew-drops, one by one;
Prophet of Good-Luck mystery

By sign of four which few may see;
Symbol of Nature's magic zone,
One out of three, and three in one;
Emblem of comfort in the speech
Which poor men's babies early reach;
Sweet by the roadsides, sweet by rills,
Sweet in the meadows, sweet on hills,
Sweet in its white, sweet in its red,-
Oh, half its sweetness cannot be said;-
Sweet in its every living breath,
Sweetest, perhaps, at last, in death!
Oh! who knows what the Clover thinks?
No one! unless the Bob-o'-links!


To the Dandelion


Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the


Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
First pledge of blithesome May,

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Green Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold, Things High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they Growing

An Eldorado in the grass have found,

Which not the rich earth's ample round May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.


To Daffodils

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon;

As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon.

Stay, stay,

Until the hastening day

Has run

But to the even-song;

And, having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or anything.

We die

As your hours do, and dry


Like to the summer's rain;

Or as the pearls of morning's dew,

Green Things Growing

Ne'er to be found again.


The Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company.

I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

Green Things Growing

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.


The White Anemone

'Tis the white anemone, fashioned so
Like to the stars of the winter snow,
First thinks, "If I come too soon, no doubt
I shall seem but the snow that stayed too long,
So 'tis I that will be Spring's unguessed scout,"
And wide she wanders the woods among.
Then, from out of the mossiest hiding-places,
Smile meek moonlight-colored faces

Of pale primroses puritan,

In maiden sisterhood demure;

Each virgin floweret faint and wan

With the bliss of her own sweet breath so pure.

OWEN MERedith.

(Edward Robert Bulwer-Lytton.)

The Grass

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 fine,-

A duchess were too common
For such a noticing.

And even when it dies, to pass

In odors so divine,

As lowly spices gone to sleep,

Or amulets of pine.

And then to dwell in sovereign barns,

And dream the days away,


grass so little has to do,

I wish I were the hay!


Green Things Growing

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