Little Gardens for Boys and Girls

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Houghton Miffin, 1910 - 152 sivua

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Sivu 144 - Then came the Autumn all in yellow clad, As though he joyed in his plenteous store, Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad That he had banished hunger, which to-fore Had by the belly oft him pinched sore.
Sivu 66 - White as the down of angels' wings. I watch the slow flakes as they fall On bank and brier and broken wall; Over the orchard, waste and brown, All noiselessly they settle down, Tipping the apple-boughs, and each Light quivering twig of plum and peach. On turf and curb and bower-roof The snow-storm spreads its ivory woof; It paves with pearl the garden-walk; And lovingly round tattered stalk And shivering stem its magic weaves A mantle fair as lily-leaves. The hooded beehive, small and low, Stands...
Sivu 66 - The speckled sky is dim with snow, The light flakes falter and fall slow ; Athwart the hill-top, rapt and pale, Silently drops a silvery veil ; And all the valley is shut in By flickering curtains gray and thin. But cheerily the chickadee Singeth to me on fence and tree ; The snow sails round him as he sings, White as the down of angels
Sivu 20 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Sivu 144 - With ears of corn of every sort, he bore. And in his hand a sickle he did hold To reap the ripened fruits the which the earth had yold.
Sivu 116 - THE lily has an air, And the snowdrop a grace, And the sweetpea a way, And the heartsease a face, — Yet there's nothing like the rose When she blows. MARGARET has a milking-pail, And she rises early ; Thomas has a threshing-flail, And he's up betimes. Sometimes crossing through the grass Where the dew lies pearly, They say 'Good -morrow...
Sivu 124 - I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs'.
Sivu 56 - And dumb the birds' sweet choir. 'Tis life's November, too. How swift The narrowing days speed, one by one ! How pale the waning sunbeams sift Through clouds of gray and dun ! And as we lose our wistful hold On warmth and loveliness and youth, And shudder at the dark and cold, Our souls cry out for Truth.
Sivu 32 - Now sets do ask watering, with pot or with dish ', New sown do not so, if ye do as I wish : Through cunning with dibble, rake, mattock, and spade, By line, and by level, trim garden is made.
Sivu 56 - The low hush rustles so thin and sere; Swift overhead the small birds pass, With cries that are lonely and sweet and clear. The last chill asters their petals fold And gone is the morning-glory's bell, But close in a loving hand I hold Long sprays of the scarlet pimpernel, And thick at my feet are blossom and leaf, Blossoms rich red as the robes of kings; Hardly they 're touched by the autumn's grief; Do they surmise what the winter brings? I turn my eyes from the sweet, sad sky, From the foam-white...

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