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Title: The Infant's Delight: Poetry Author: Anonymous Release date: February 1, 2004 [eBook #10912] Most recently updated: December 23, 2020 Language: English Credits: Produced by Afra Ullah and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INFANT'S DELIGHT: POETRY *** Produced by Afra Ullah and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team THE INFANT'S DELIGHT [Illustration: THE MISTLETOE-SELLERS.] [Illustration: THE DEAD ROBIN.] [Illustration] BLIND MAN'S BUFF. When the win-ter winds are blow-ing, And we ga-ther glad and gay, Where the fire its light is throw-ing, For a mer-ry game at play, There is none that to my know-ing,-- And I've play-ed at games enough,-- Makes us laugh, and sets us glow-ing Like a game at Blind-man's Buff. THE DEAD ROBIN. All through the win-ter, long and cold, Dear Minnie ev-ery morn-ing fed The little spar-rows, pert and bold, And ro-bins, with their breasts so red. She lov-ed to see the lit-tle birds Come flut-ter-ing to the win-dow pane, In answer to the gen-tle words With which she scat-ter-ed crumbs and grain. One ro-bin, bol-der than the rest, Would perch up-on her fin-ger fair, And this of all she lov-ed the best, And daily fed with ten-der-est care. But one sad morn, when Minnie came, Her pre-ci-ous lit-tle pet she found, Not hop-ping, when she call-ed his name, But ly-ing dead up-on the ground. ALL THINGS OBEY GOD. "He saith to the snow, Be thou on the earth." God's works are very great, but still His hands do not ap-pear: Though hea-ven and earth o-bey His will, His voice we can-not hear. And yet we know that it is He Who moves and governs all, Who stills the rag-ing of the sea, And makes the showers to fall. Alike in mer-cy He be-stows The sun-shine and the rain; That which is best for us He knows, And we must not com-plain, Whe-ther He makes His winds to blow, And gives His tem-pests birth, Or sends His frost, or bids the snow-- "Be thou up-on the earth." [Illustration: HE SAITH TO THE SNOW: BE THOU ON THE EARTH. JOB 37.6] [Illustration: SNOW-BALL-ING.] SNOW-BALL-ING. See these mer-ry ones at play, On this snowy New Year's Day: How they run, and jump, and throw Hand-fuls of the soft, white snow. You should hear them laugh and shout As they fling the snow about! 'Tis by Frank and Gus alone That the balls are chief-ly thrown, While their cou-sins make and bring Other balls for them to fling. Ka-tie is pre-par-ing thus, Quite a store of balls for Gus; But her mer-ry sis-ter May From her task has run a-way, All that heavy lump of snow, At her cou-sin Gus to throw. E-dith is not very bold, And at first she fear-ed the cold; Now at last you see her run Down the steps to join the fun. THE SICK DOLL. Oh! is there any cause to fear That dol-ly will be very ill? To cure my lit-tle dar-ling here, Pray, doc-tor, use your ut-most skill. And dol-ly, if you would get well, Hold out your arm, that Dr. Gray May feel your tiny pulse, and tell What best will take the pain a-way. And do not say: "I will not touch That nas-ty phy-sic, nor the pill." If lit-tle dolls will eat too much, They must not won-der if they're ill. If your mam-ma ate too much cake, She would be very poor-ly too, And nas-ty phy-sic have to take; And, lit-tle dol-ly, so must you. [Illustration: Those who the South-ern O-cean cross, Meet with the wide-wing-ed Al-ba-tross.] [Illustration: In ri-vers near the hot E-qua-tor, Lives the huge, sca-ly Al-li-ga-tor.] [Illustration: In north-ern snows, the Po-lar Bear, 'Mid glit-ter-ing ice-bergs makes his lair.] [Illustration: In shel-ter-ed nooks, by ri-ver-sides, The strange-ly-beard-ed Bar-bel hides.] [Illustration: THE SICK DOLL.] [Illustration: LITTLE ROSE'S VALENTINE.] [Illustration] NEL-LY'S PET LAMB. This lit-tle Lamb was brought to Nell The day its old ewe mo-ther died, And, now it knows and loves her well, It will not go from Nel-ly's side. A-long the hall, and up the stair, You hear its lit-tle pat-ter-ing toes: Her Pet will fol-low every-where A-bout the house, where Nel-ly goes. ROSE'S VA-LEN-TINE. ROSE. The post-man has been, dear mam-ma, And has brought me a let-ter so fine; And Su-san has one, but it is not, by far, So pret-ty a let-ter as mine. And, pray, will you read it to me, Mam-ma, if I give you a kiss? I wish very much to know who it can be That has sent me a let-ter like this. MAM-MA. To the lot of our dear lit-tle Rose We trust every bless-ing may fall; And this is the prayer and the fond hope of those Who love her most dear-ly of all. So now, lit-tle Rose, can you guess Who sent you this let-ter by post? ROSE. Oh, yes, dear mam-ma, I can tell you; oh, yes! For you, and pa-pa, love me most. "YOUR HEA-VEN-LY FA-THER FEED-ETH THEM." God loves His lit-tle birds; for all His ten-der care He shows; A sin-gle spar-row can-not fall But its Cre-a-tor knows. They do not sow, nor reap the corn, Gar-ner nor barn have they; God gives them break-fast every morn, And feeds them through the day. And this we know; for in His Word, Where all His ways we read, We find that eve-ry lit-tle bird He cares for, and will feed. God loves each lit-tle bird; but still More ten-der is His care For chil-dren who o-bey His will, Than for the fowls of air. [Illustration: YOUR HEAVENLY FATHER FEEDETH THEM. MATT. vi. 26.] [Illustration: PLOUGH-ING.] PLOUGH-ING. The lit-tle birds by God are fed But man must earn his dai-ly bread, And work that he may eat; Striv-ing his best, as John does now, The broad ten-acre field to plough, Where-in to sow the wheat. Old John, the plough-man, ne'er re-pines, Whe-ther it blows, or rains, or shines, But hap-py still does seem; And Dick, who leads the fore-most horse, Goes whist-ling as he walks across The field be-side the team. Let us per-form as glad-ly, too, The work our Mas-ter bids us do, And then we need not fear; But when from earth-ly toil we rest, We all shall meet a-mong the blest Who served Him tru-ly here. "HOW IS THE WEA-THER?" Cold win-ter has come, And the cru-el winds blow-- The trees are all leaf-less and brown; These two pret-ty rob-ins, Oh, where shall they go To shel-ter their lit-tle brown heads from the snow? Just look at the flakes com-ing down. But see, they have found a snug shel-ter at last, And hark, how they talk, while the storm whis-tles past: Says Pol-ly to Dick-y, "You're near-est the door, And you are the gen-tle-man, too: Just peep out and see When the storm will be o'er; Be-cause, if the wea-ther's as bad as be-fore, I think we will stay, do not you?" [Illustration: Far up a-mong the moun-tain peaks, His food the lone-ly Con-dor seeks.] [Illustration: The Co-bra has a dead-ly bite. And yet in mu-sic takes de-light.] [Illustration: The A-rabs through the de-sert wide, On the swift Dro-me-dary ride.] [Illustration: In gen-tle ri-vers, still and clear, We see the shin-ing Dace ap-pear.] [Illustration: "HOW IS THE WEATHER?"] [Illustration: NELLY'S NEW PARASOL.] NAUGH-TY NEL-LY AND HER NEW PA-RA-SOL. "No, Nel-ly! not to-day, my child! I can-not let you take it; This cold March wind, so strong and wild, Your pa-ra-sol, 'twould break it!" So said Mam-ma; but Nel-ly thought, "I will take my new pre-sent: Tis mine; to please me it was bought; The wea-ther's bright and plea-sant." So naugh-ty Nel-ly sli-ly took What kind Mam-ma had bought her, And out she went--and, only look! The wild March wind has caught her! The silk tore up, the ribs broke out, In spite of Nel-ly's sway-ing; And peo-ple laugh-ed at her, no doubt-- That comes of dis-o-bey-ing. "THE FLOW-ERS AP-PEAR ON THE EARTH." (SONG OF SOLOMON, ii. 12.) Now the win-ter cold is past, And blithe March winds are blow-ing, In shel-ter-ed nooks we find at last Bright flow-ers of spring are grow-ing. Along the hedge-row's mossy bank, Where ivy green is creep-ing, We see through weeds and net-tles rank The dark-blue vi-o-let peep-ing. And in the sun-ny gar-den beds Gay a-co-nites are show-ing, And snow-drops bend their grace-ful heads, And cro-cus-es are glow-ing. God makes the buds and leaves un-fold, All flow-ers are of His giv-ing; He guards them through the win-ter's cold, He cares for all things liv-ing. [Illustration] [Illustration: WHO TORE IT?] [Illustration: The E-mu in Aus-tra-lia's found, Where the wild bush spreads far a-round.] [Illustration: The ant-lered Elk comes pranc-ing forth From the pine for-ests of the North.] [Illustration: The Frog is of-ten-est to be seen In grassy mea-dows, damp and green.] [Illustration: The Fly-ing Fish can swim with ease, Or flut-ter o'er the tro-pic seas.] [Illustration: THE LITTLE HERO.] [Illustration: BLOWING BUBBLES.] [Illustration] JUMP! PUS-SY! Pus-sy, jump! for all the day You have time e-nough to play; Though at night, in barn and house, You must watch for rat or mouse. Pus-sy, jump! and if you do, We will pour some milk for you; Pus-sy, you shall be ca-ressed, If you try and jump your best. BLOW-ING BUB-BLES. Har-ry and Tom, the o-ther day, Went out in-to the yard to play; Their great de-light, in wea-ther bright, Is blow-ing bub-bles with pipes of clay. Tom took a ba-sin deep and wide, And Har-ry brought his mug be-side; They fil-led them quite with soap-suds white, And each to blow the big-gest tried. Poor Tom, he blew with might and main, And so, of course, he blew in vain; For all his trou-ble he made no bub-ble, But Tom was brave and tried a-gain. Till Har-ry said, "Dear Tom, you see, You blow too hard; now--look at me. There! that will rise to-ward the skies, And float a-bove the li-lac tree." A-PRIL SHOW-ERS. "Thou makest the earth soft with show-ers: Thou bless-est the spring-ing there-of."--PSALM lxv. 10. When A-pril skies be-gin to frown, And the cold rain comes pelt-ing down, We must not grum-ble nor com-plain, Nor i-dly say, we hate the rain. God sends the rain; the dust-y ground It soft-ens in the fields a-round; The mois-ture ev-e-ry plant re-ceives, And springs a-fresh in flow-ers and leaves. Should God for-bid the show-ers to fall, Nor send us any rain at all, The ground would all grow hard and dry, And ev-e-ry liv-ing plant would die. All things would starve and per-ish then-- No food for birds, nor beasts, nor men; Then do not mur-mur, nor com-plain, God, in His good-ness, sends the rain. [Illustration] [Illustration: "SNAP, BE GOOD!"] "SNAP, BE GOOD!" "Dear lit-tle Snap, you fun-ny pup, I love to see you beg, So cle-ver-ly do you sit up And bend each slen-der leg, Drop-ping the paw; And raise your ears a-bove your head, Look-ing so very wise; You seem to know I have some bread; And then, such bright green eyes I never saw. "Your shag-gy coat is long and rough, Your tail is rough-er still; Now, Snap, I think you've had e-nough, And more would make you ill-- In-deed it would. But sis-ter Lot-ty has some cake, And so if you will sit Quite still and good, till I say 'Take!' Then you shall have a bit; So, Snap, be good!" THE STRAY KIT-TEN. "Come, Kit-ty, come; you need not fear, Nor make that plain-tive mew; Don't be a-fraid, but ven-ture near, And lap the milk we bring you here, For none will in-jure you. "And, Kit-ty, since you've lost your way, You need no fur-ther roam; But stop, and dine with us to-day, And then, if you would wish to stay, Poor Kit-ty, here's your home. "And we will feed you fine and fat, On fresh new milk and nice; And, when you grow to be a cat, You can re-quite us well for that, By catch-ing all the mice." [Illustration: Where the wide wastes of o-cean lie, The greed-y Gan-net loves to fly.] [Illustration: Though ve-nom-ous, as authors write, The Gek-ko is not known to bite.] [Illustration: The Ri-ver Horse a-mong the reeds Of A-fric's lone-ly ri-vers feeds.] [Illustration: A-round our coasts the fish-ers meet With Had-docks, which, when dri-ed, we eat.] [Illustration: THE STRAY KITTEN.] [Illustration: THE FIRST OF MAY.] [Illustration] THE MAY-POLE. Round the May-pole, on the grass, Mer-ry lit-tle foot-steps pass; In the mid-dle Bes-sie stands, With the May-pole in her hands; While her play-mates dance and sing Round her in an end-less ring. Soon, in-deed, a feast they'll make, Cow-slip tea, with nice plum-cake-- And so our leave of them we'll take. THE FIRST OF MAY. The haw-thorn blos-som, snow-y white, Hangs thick upon the hedge to-day; With many flow-ers the fields are bright Upon this mer-ry First of May. So let us ga-ther flow-er-ets fair, And blos-soms from the haw-thorn spray, To deck our May-pole stand-ing there, Upon this mer-ry First of May. And then, like fai-ries, in a ring, A-round it we will dance or play, And all our glad-dest songs will sing Upon this mer-ry First of May. And dear-est Maud shall there be seen With crown of haw-thorn blos-soms gay, And she shall be our lit-tle queen, Upon this mer-ry First of May. UNI-VER-SAL PRAISE. See how na-ture now re-joices In this sun-ny month of May; Still to God from all its voices Giv-ing prais-es day by day. In the glad green wood-land al-leys Ev-e-ry bird its an-them trills! While flocks feed-ing in the val-leys, Herds up-on a thou-sand hills, Join with ev-ery crea-ture liv-ing, Here on land, in air, or sea, In one great world-wide thanks-giv-ing, Yield-ing praise, O God, to Thee! All a-round us swells the cho-rus From this good-ly world of ours, And earth's al-tar stands be-fore us Sweet with in-cense from her flow-ers. So, with Na-ture still con-fess-ing His great good-ness, let us pay Grate-ful hom-age for each bless-ing Of this sun-ny month of May. [Illustration] [Illustration: LOST LABOUR.] [Illustration: The sa-cred I-bis, we are told, The E-gyp-tians much re-vered of old] [Illustration: The I-gua-na's flesh is sweet and good; It haunts the riv-er and the wood.] [Illustration: On hin-der legs and tail so strong, The slim Jer-boa bounds a-long.] [Illustration: A row of prick-les, long and keen, On the John-Do-ry's back is seen.] [Illustration: WASHING MY CHILDREN.] [Illustration: TAKING CARE OF BABY] [Illustration] THE DAN-DE-LION CLOCK. The dan-de-lion blos-soms gay From the fields have passed away, And in their place left heads of grey. Now, Min-nie, won't it be good fun For each of us to ga-ther one, And sit and blow them in the sun? Very hard we both must blow, And scat-ter all the seeds like snow, That will be 'one o'clock,' you know." TAK-ING CARE OF BA-BY. Lit-tle, help-less ba-by dear, While with-in your cot you lie, Sis-ter May is sit-ting near-- She will sing your lul-la-by. When at last you fall a-sleep, Not the slight-est noise she'll make; Quiet as a mouse she'll keep, Lest she should her dar-ling wake. May will watch you well, for though She can play and prat-tle too, 'Tis not very long ago Since she was a babe like you. Then mam-ma o'er lit-tle May Day and night her watch would keep; May her care can now re-pay, Watch-ing ba-by whilst a-sleep. SUM-MER FLOW-ERS. "The de-sert shall re-joice, and blos-som as the rose."--ISAIAH XXXV. I. Be-hold the flow-ers of June! how fair And bright their buds ap-pear, As, open-ing to the sum-mer air, Our eyes and hearts they cheer! Who would have thought there could a-bound Such beau-ty and de-light Be-neath the cold and win-try ground That hid those flow-ers from sight? That pow-er which made and governs all-- The might-y pow-er of God-- A-lone could life and beau-ty call Out of the life-less sod. And He, who from the Win-ter's gloom Can Sum-mer thus dis-close, Shall one day make the de-sert bloom, And blos-som as the rose. [Illustration] [Illustration: "WHERE'S DICK-EY?"] "WHERE'S DICK-EY?" "Look there!" lit-tle Lot-ty cried, "Dick-ey's cage is o-pen wide, And, I fear, he's not in-side. Cou-sin John, Do please stand up-on this chair, Just to see if he is there. Pret-ty Dick, I won-der where You are gone! "Naugh-ty puss, your jaws, you lick! Have you eat-en lit-tle Dick? That would be a cru-el trick! No, I see Pret-ty Dick has flown a-way, And is sing-ing blithe and gay, Sit-ting yon-der on a spray Of the tree. "Well, I too should think it wrong, If a gi-ant, tall and strong, Just to hear my lit-tle song ev-ery day, Shut _me_ in a cage; and yet Thus I did my lit-tle pet--- So he must be glad to get Safe a-way." PLAY-ING AT OM-NI-BUS. Says Hu-bert, "Look, how fast it pours! I'm sure we can't go out of doors While it is rain-ing thus; So let us in the nur-se-ry stay, To have a mer-ry game, and play At driv-ing om-ni-bus. "Flo-ra and Ted-dy, you must be The horses, and be driv-en by me. Mind you go stea-dy--do! A place for Char-lie we shall find; To guard the 'bus he'll ride be-hind, And take the mon-ey too. "Dick, with pa-pa's old hat to wear, Looks just the thing to be a fare Who wants to ride with us. Jump up, sir! Six-pence all the way! Gee, gee, you horses! Gee, I say!"-- Off goes the om-ni-bus! [Illustration: With wings scarce mov-ing, through the sky, The lazy Kite is seen to fly.] [Illustration: The Kan-ga-roo a poc-ket wears, In which her lit-tle ones she bears.] [Illustration: The Liz-ard in the sun's warm rays De-lights to bask on summer days.] [Illustration: The Lam-prey, in the Se-vern caught, Was once the first of dain-ties thought.] [Illustration: PLAYING AT OMNIBUS.] [Illustration: ON THE WATER.] [Illustration] GA-THER-ING POP-PIES. Through the corn the chil-dren creep, Where the nod-ding pop-pies sleep, Fill-ing hands and a-prons white With the scar-let blos-soms bright. Gau-dy pop-pies must not stay Till the fu-ture har-vest day: They would wi-ther when the heat Ri-pens all the gold-en wheat-- Life for them is short and sweet. ON THE WA-TER. In our lit-tle boat to glide On the wa-ter blue and wide, While the sky is smooth and bright, What could give us more de-light? See the rip-ples, how they run, Twink-ling bright-ly in the sun; While re-flect-ed we can see Sha-dows of each hill and tree. See the li-lies, round and large, Float-ing near the reed-y marge, Where the bul-rush has its place And the hea-vy wa-ter-mace. See the great green dra-gon-fly, And the swal-low skim-ming by. See the fish-es spring and gleam, Ere they splash in-to the stream, See the bright king-fish-er too Dart a gleam of green and blue. These are all a-round our boat On the wa-ter whilst we float. HURT-FUL WEEDS. "Ev-e-ry plant, which My hea-ven-ly Fa-ther hath not plant-ed, shall be root-ed up."--ST. MATT. XV. 13. Though in the corn that waves a-round Are thorns, and many hurt-ful weeds, That spring in e-ven good-ly ground And plant-ed thick with choic-est seeds; Though in our hearts, how-e-ver taught And trained to guard them-selves from sin, The good is mixed with evil thought Our en-e-my has sown there-in, God's plant-ing shall not be o'er-thrown By world-ly weeds that cling a-bout His corn; and what He hath not sown Shall in His time be root-ed out. Then, that our lives may yield their fruit, Still let it be our con-stant prayer, That God from out our hearts will root All seeds He hath not plant-ed there. [Illustration] [Illustration: THE BUT-TER-FLY.] THE BUT-TER-FLY. A yel-low But-ter-fly one day, Grown tired of play and tired of fly-ing, Up-on a this-tle blos-som grey With out-spread wings was i-dly ly-ing. The stur-dy bees went hum-ming by, Draw-ing sweet ho-ney from the clo-ver, Nor stir-red the yel-low But-ter-fly, For he was but an i-dle ro-ver. Two lit-tle girls, named Anne and May, Came by with mirth and laugh-ter ring-ing, Anne ran to seize the in-sect gay-- May fol-low-ed fast and ceased her sing-ing. "Oh! dar-ling An-nie, let it be, Your touch will rob its plumes of beau-ty; And God, who made both you and me, Has taught us kind-ness is a du-ty." "GO A-WAY, RO-VER!" "You big black dog, go, go a-way! I will not let you bite My lit-tle pet; it can-not play, You gave it such a fright! "I think you want to eat it up Be-cause it is so small, But if you dare to touch my pup For help I mean to call; "And then pa-pa will bring a stick, And make you run a-way; So, Ro-ver, you had best go quick, And leave us here to play!" * * * * * Why, Ro-ver, is quite good and tame-- You need not be a-fraid; He on-ly wants to have a game, You sil-ly lit-tle maid! [Illustration: In sum-mer time, a-long our coasts. The Mack-a-rel swarm in count-less hosts.] [Illustration: We all at Mon-keys love to gaze, And watch their fun-ny tricks and ways.] [Illustration: A bird so fool-ish is the Nod-dy, It may be caught by a-ny-bo-dy.] [Illustration: The harm-less Newt is to be seen In stag-nant ponds, with duck-weed green.] [Illustration:"GO AWAY, ROVER!"] [Illustration: LUCY AND ARTHUR.] [Illustration] THE RUSH PA-RA-SOL. "Oh, come to the brook, sis-ter Kate, Oh, come with me, Het-ty and Gus, Where rush-es, so long and so straight, Are grow-ing in thou-sands for us!" Thus cries, to the rest, lit-tle May; And off to the mea-dow go all-- For nurse has just shown her the way Of mak-ing a rush pa-ra-sol. LU-CY AND AR-THUR. The day was fine, the sun was hot, So Lu-cy took her pail and spade, And went to find a nice dry spot Where wells and cas-tles might be made. But all the shore just then was wet, So Lu-cy took off shoes and socks; She knew that nurse would fume and fret If they got spoilt by sand or rocks. But Ar-thur was so strong and big, He thought that he was quite a man, And he, in boots, would stand and dig, Which proved a very fool-ish plan. For soon his boots got wet and cold, And hurt his feet, and made him cry; He had to sit and hear nurse scold, While both his boots were put to dry. THE PRO-VI-DENCE OF GOD. "The Lord shall give that which is good, and our land shall yield her increase."--PSALM lxxxv. 12. The seed was sown long months a-go, And, through the win-ter's cold and snow, We trust-ed that God's care would bring The green and ten-der blade in spring, Which che-rished by the sun and rain Of sum-mer, now has yield-ed grain In au-tumn, when the reap-er leaves His cot to cut and bind the sheaves, And load with them the nod-ding wain Which bears them home-ward from the plain. So God's great mer-cies thus a-bound; His love still brings the sea-sons round; His bless-ings fill our hap-py fields, And all our land its in-crease yields: So if we serve Him as we should, Our Lord will give us all things good; And He who doth the ra-vens feed Much more will give us all we need! [Illustration] [Illustration: PLAY-ING A-MONG THE SHEAVES.] PLAY-ING A-MONG THE SHEAVES. Oh, who could there be More mer-ry than we, On this bright har-vest morn. As we fro-lic and play, While we hide a-way, A-mong the sheaves of corn? We may fro-lic still Wher-e-ver we will, But yet we must not tread To waste with our feet The grains of the wheat-- The wheat that makes our bread. For God, as we need, Gives the corn to feed And make us well and strong; And to waste in vain His gift of the grain Would grieve Him, and be wrong. KEEP-ING SCHOOL. Oh, tell me if e-ver you knew A teach-er who looked so se-vere As sis-ter Ma-ri-a can do, When les-sons she's go-ing to hear? Just look how she holds up her cane And frowns, as she threat-ens each one! But yet they'll not cry or com-plain, Be-cause it is only in fun. The dunce's cap Dol-ly must wear, Her task was not learnt very well; And now lit-tle Jane, I de-clare, Pre-tends she's un-a-ble to spell. Yet sis-ter may hold up her cane, And though they'll look so-lemn, each one, From laugh-ter they scarce can re-frain. Be-cause it is only in fun. [Illustration: In i-vy, tree, or barn, or tow-er The Owl a-waits the e-ven-ing hour.] [Illustration: The fish-ing Ot-ter may be found In streams which flow through Eng-lish ground.] [Illustration: Be-neath the ri-ver's sedg-y side The sav-age Pike de-lights to hide.] [Illustration: In cav-ern pools, in end-less night, The poor blind Pro-teus shuns the light.] [Illustration: KEEPING SCHOOL.] [Illustration: MILKING-TIME.] [Illustration] SNAP AP-PLE. "Come, while it spins round, try your luck; Come, E-thel, and Kate, and your bro-thers! On two ends two ap-ples are stuck, And an on-ion on each of the o-thers. Be ready, and snap as they pass, Be quick, if you mean to be right, Or not the sweet ap-ples, a-las! 'Twill be, but the on-ions, you'll bite." MILK-ING TIME. Through the long day the cows are seen All graz-ing as they go, Wan-der-ing a-long the mea-dows green Where yel-low hawk-weeds grow. But when the clock with-in the tower Strikes five, they al-ways pace Slow-ly--for well they know the hour-- Home to the milk-ing place. Then in the yard quite still they stand, Swing-ing their la-zy tails, Where Ann and Su-san are at hand With stools and milk-ing pails I love to see the white milk flow, And in the pail froth up; And Ann, who is so kind, I know, Will let me fill my cup. AU-TUMN. "Be glad then, and re-joice in the Lord your God."--JOEL ii. 23. 'Tis au-tumn now; the corn is cut, But o-ther gifts for us are spread, The pur-ple plum, the ripe brown nut, And pears and ap-ples, streaked with red, A-mong the dark-green branch-es shine, Or on the grass be-neath them fall; While full green clus-ters deck the vine That trails o'er trel-lis, roof, and wall. In our dear land the la-den trees Be-speak God's pro-vi-dence and love; He sends all need-ful gifts like these For those who trust in Him a-bove. How good is He to make such choice Of plea-sant fruits for us to grow! 'Tis meet, in-deed, that we re-joice In Him who loves His chil-dren so. [Illustration: BE GLAD THEN, AND REJOICE IN THE LORD YOUR GOD. JOEL II. 23] [Illustration: THE SQUIR-REL.] THE SQUIR-REL. "Squir-rel, squir-rel, brown and brisk, High a-bove me in the tree, I can see you bound and frisk, I can see you peep at me. "Squir-rel, squir-rel, you can play; Mer-rier beast is none than you; Yet you are not only gay, You are wise and mer-ry too. You can play till sum-mer's o'er, And the nuts come fall-ing free, Then to hoard your win-ter store You are busy as a bee. "Squir-rel, squir-rel, I would bound Gai-ly at my sports as you, And, like you, I would be found Care-ful for the fu-ture too." "CON-TRA-RY WINDS" Both Tom and Will had e-qual skill In mak-ing lit-tle boats and ships; They cut a-way a whole half day, And co-vered all the floor with chips. And when the boys had made their toys, They thought to put them to the test-- To try which boat, when set a-float, Would sail a-cross a tub the best. But Will and Tom, each blow-ing from A dif-fe-rent side, you well may guess, No boats could go straight on, and so They tacked a-bout in great dis-tress. Such heavy gales a-gainst their sails Made both the boats go whirl-ing round; The sails got wet, the boats up-set, And all the crew on board were drowned. [Illustration: When the warm sum-mer days draw near, From south-ern climes the Quails ap-pear.] [Illustration: South Afric's plains the Quag-gas roam, Re-mote from farm or set-tler's home.] [Illustration: The fish-er-man the Roach may hook, In quiet pond or gentle brook.] [Illustration: When the fell Rat-tle-snake slides near, The In-dian may its rat-tle hear.] [Illustration: "CONTRARY WINDS."] [Illustration: NAUGHTY DICK.] [Illustration] BAT-TLE-DORE AND SHUT-TLE-COCK. See these mer-ry chil-dren four, Now their les-son time is o'er, Deal-ing with the bat-tle-dore Steady blow on blow; Till the fea-thered shut-tle-cocks Fly at their al-ter-nate knocks, "Re-gu-lar as kitch-en clocks," Spin-ning to and fro. [Illustration: OUR GOD IS MERCIFUL. PSALM CXVI. 5] [Illustration: CUT-TING NAMES.] CUT-TING NAMES. See where the spread-ing beech has made Be-neath its boughs a plea-sant shade To screen them from the sun; There George, and Anne, and Ma-ry play, Or read up-on each sun-ny day, When all their tasks are done. George has pulled out his knife, you see, And on the smooth-barked beech-en tree Has some-thing found to do; He's carv-ing deep, and plain, and well The let-ters, one by one, which spell His name and An-nie's too. His sis-ter An-nie, stand-ing by, Is watch-ing with a cu-ri-ous eye, And won-der-ing at his skill. To men and wo-men when they grow, They'll come and find the beech tree show Those names quite plain-ly still. THE CON-CERT. "See how it rains! We can-not go Our walk a-cross the fields; and so, Since Tom and Et-tie Holmes are come, And cous-in Fred has brought his drum, And some can sing, and o-thers play, We'll have a con-cert here to-day. You, Tom, must in the mid-dle stand, And mark the time, with stick in hand; You, bro-ther Ben, the tongs must take, For they will good tri-an-gles make; Hal clicks the 'bones,' and Em-me-line Will beat her lit-tle tam-bour-ine, And cous-in Fred will drum a-way, And Kate the con-cer-ti-na play. All must at-tend to Tom; and mind None play too fast, nor lag be-hind; And then, I'm sure, we all shall see How grand a con-cert this will be, And say this is the wis-est way To spend this wet Oc-to-ber day." [Illustration: The long-billed Snipe fre-quents our clime About the chil-ly au-tumn time.] [Illustration: The Ti-ger, from his hid-den lair, Springs on the tra-vel-ler un-a-ware.] [Illustration: The U-rano-sco-pus hides a-mong The mud, and an-gles with its tongue.] [Illustration: Though gay and pleas-ing to the sight, The Vi-per has a dead-ly bite.] [Illustration: THE CONCERT.] [Illustration: CAUGHT IN THE FOG.] [Illustration] PLAY-ING WITH WOOD-EN BRICKS. An In-di-an tem-ple on the floor The chil-dren build with wood-en bricks, They've placed two pil-lars by the door, And on the roof they now would fix A good tall spire, so Et-ty takes A long-er brick, and sets it there; And though when-e'er we walk it shakes, It will not tum-ble, I de-clare! CAUGHT IN THE FOG. Anne and Jane will long re-mem-her How, one morn-ing in No-vem-ber, As they both were home-ward stroll-ing, Round the Lon-don fog came roll-ing-- First, a yel-low dark-ness fall-ing, Then a noise of link-boys call-ing, Cab, and 'bus, and cart-wheels rum-bling, Hor-ses on the pave-ment stum-bling, Peo-ple, in the smoke and smo-ther, Run-ning up a-gainst each other, No one see-ing, much less know-ing, Whi-ther he or she was go-ing. Little Jane clung to her sis-ter, While Anne com-fort-ed and kissed her, For the girls felt bro-ken-heart-ed, Fear-ing lest they should be part-ed. So they were when Char-lie found them, Lost a-mid the crowd a-round them, But so glad when they es-pied him, And came trip-ping home beside him. TRUST IN GOD. "He ma-keth light-nings for the rain; He bring-eth the wind out of His trea-sur-ies."--Ps. CXXXV. 7. Our God who reign-est up on high, Though light-nings flash a-cross the sky, And howl-ing tem-pests hur-ry by, We fear not these, for Thou art nigh To all who trust in Thee. Though now the sky is o-ver-cast, And hea-vy rains are fall-ing fast, And storm and sleet go driv-ing past, And day by day the moan-ing blast Sweeps dead leaves from the tree, No-vem-ber time, that seems so drear, When days are dark and win-ter near, Will pass at length, and Christ-mas cheer The last hours of the dy-ing year With song and dance and mirth. And in due time Thy mighty pow-er Will give the spring, with sun and shower, The o-pen-ing leaf, the ear-ly flow-er, And birds in e-ve-ry wood-land bow-er Will sing to glad-den earth. [Illustration: HE MAKETH LIGHTNINGS FOR THE RAIN; HE BRINGETH THE WIND OUT OF HIS TREASURIES. PSALM CXXXV. 7.] [Illustration: HOME FROM SCHOOL.] HOME FROM SCHOOL. Come, Meg and El-len, don't com-plain, For, see, the geese en-joy the rain, And dog-gie does not fret; And yet, The drops come rol-ling down his ears, And nose, and whisk-ers, just like tears; Poor Mop, he's drip-ping wet! Our big um-brel-la co-vers three, And snug and dry we all may be, And chat-ter as we go, And show The grumb-ling peo-ple whom we meet That nei-ther wind, nor driv-ing sleet, Can spoil our tem-pers.--No, We will not take such days as this, Nor any-thing God sends, a-miss, But what we can-not cure Endure; And this will prove a Gold-en Rule To prac-tise as we walk from school-- Of that we may be sure. THE KIT-TENS' BATH. One day when Lil-lie saw her cat Sit down and lick a kit-ten's face; "No, puss," said she, "don't wash like that-- My bath will be the pro-per place. "I'll show you how to wash them, puss." So in she dipped them one by one; Poor Min-nie mewed and made a fuss, But Lil-lie only thought it fun. Puss feared her lit-tle kits would drown, And did her best to get them out; While Lil-lie dipped them up and down, And splashed the wa-ter all a-bout. Till nurse came up and saw the mess, Took out the kit-tens, and instead Made thought-less Lil-lie quite un-dress, And have her bath and go to bed. [Illustration: We find the snow-y Whi-ting most A-bound along our South-ern coast.] [Illustration: Who roams through Eng-land's mea-dows fair May see the Yel-low-ham-mer there.] [Illustration: The Xeno-pel-tis has a hide, With spots of man-y co-lours dyed.] [Illustration: See, with long tail but scan-ty mane, The Ze-bra gal-lops o'er the plain.] [Illustration: THE KITTENS' BATH.] [Illustration] TURN-ING THE TRENCH-ER. If, at this old Christ-mas game, Kate, who spins the trench-er, call Any play-er out by name, He must catch it ere it fall. If "Move all" she should re-peat, All sit still; but if she say "Twi-light," each must change his seat, Or a for-feit he must pay. THE WISE MEN OF THE EAST. The East-ern sages watched the sky, They looked from night till morn, There shone a bright, new star on high, They knew that Christ was born. Then up they rose, and came from far, They jour-neyed night and day, Led by the shin-ing of that star, And found Him where He lay. There is not any need for us To leave our homes be-hind, Through dis-tant lands to tra-vel thus The Son of God to find. For home to us each Christ-mas Day The new-born Sa-vi-our brings; Then shall we not our hom-age pay Like those good East-ern kings? End of Project Gutenberg's The Infant's Delight: Poetry, by Anonymous *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INFANT'S DELIGHT: POETRY *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. 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