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April Arbor and Bird Arbor Day asters beautiful bloom blossoms blue bluebird Bob-o'-link Bobolink bright brook brown brown thrasher buds Buttercup cedar waxwing chee child chipping sparrow clover cried daisy dear district downy woodpeckers earth eggs eyes Fairy farmers field flowers formaldehyd garden goldfinch grass green gits back greenwood grow heard insects lark leaves lessons little Hiawatha little ivy little vine live Lucy Larcom maple meadow merry moisture morning nest never Nokomis old oak-tree plants a tree pupils Pussy rain red-headed woodpecker Robert of Lincoln robin roots rose-breasted grosbeak scarlet tanager school grounds seed oats sing sleep smut soil song south wind sowing Spink spring springtime stories Sugar-Plum summer sweet peas teacher thee things thistle thou Tree Planting violet warbler warbling vireo weather whispered winter Wisconsin woodpecker woods wren yellow yellow warbler young
Page 56 - Saw the rainbow in the heaven, In the eastern sky, the rainbow, Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis ? " And the good Nokomis answered : " 'T is the heaven of flowers you see there ; All the wild-flowers of the forest, All the lilies of the prairie, When on earth they fade and perish, Blossom in that heaven above us.
Page 42 - Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings: Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, Spink, spank, spink; Brood, kind creature; you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here. Chee, chee, chee.
Page 60 - Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem. To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Thou bonie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonie Lark, companion meet ! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' spreckl'd breast, When upward-springing, blythe, to greet The purpling east.
Page 60 - O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Low i
Page 52 - My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee ; The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, Who, from the dark old tree Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, And I, secure in childish piety, Listened as if I heard an angel sing With news from heaven, which he could bring Fresh every day to my untainted ears When birds and flowers and I were happy peers.
Page 64 - When beechen buds begin to swell, And woods the blue-bird's warble know, The yellow violet's modest bell Peeps from the last year's leaves below. Ere russet fields their green resume, Sweet flower, I love, in forest bare, To meet thee, when thy faint perfume Alone is in the virgin air. Of all her train, the hands of Spring First plant thee in the watery mould, And I have seen thee blossoming Beside the snow-bank's edges cold.
Page 64 - The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Page 11 - Said the Tree, while his leaflets quivering hung. The Tree bore his fruit in the midsummer glow. Said the girl, " May I gather thy ripe berries now ? " • " Yes, all thou canst see. Take them; all are for thee," Said the Tree, while he bent down his laden, boughs low.
Page 64 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Page 64 - Oft, in the sunless April day, Thy early smile has stayed my walk ; But midst the gorgeous blooms of May, I passed thee on thy humble stalk. So they, who climb to wealth, forget The friends in darker fortunes tried. I copied them—but I regret That I should ape the ways of pride.