Graded Memory Selections - Various 2 стр.

O dandelion yellow as gold,
What do you do all day?
I just wait here in the tall green grass
Till the children come to play.
O dandelion yellow as gold,
What do you do all night?
I wait and wait till the cool dews fall
And my hair grows long and white.

And what do you do when your hair is white
And the children come to play?
They take me up in their dimpled hands
And blow my hair away.

A million little diamonds
Twinkled on the trees;
And all the little maidens said,
A jewel, if you please!

But while they held their hands outstretched
To catch the diamonds gay,
A million little sunbeams came
And stole them all away.

The daisies white are nursery maids with frills upon their caps;
And daisy buds are little babes they tend upon their laps.
Sing Heigh-ho! while the winds sweep low,
Both nurses and babies are nodding JUST SO.

The daisy babies never cry, the nurses never scold;
They never crush the dainty frills about their cheeks of gold;
But pure and white, in gay sunlight
Theyre nid-noddingpretty sight.

The daisies love the golden sun, upon the clear blue sky,
He gazes kindly down on them and winks his jolly eye;
While soft and low, all in a row,
Both nurses and babies are nodding JUST SO.

There surely is a gold mine somewhere underneath the grass,
For dandelions are popping out in every place you pass.
But if you want to gather some youd better not delay,
For the gold will turn to silver soon and all will blow away.

There are three green eggs in a small brown pocket,
And the breeze will swing and the gale will rock it,
Till three little birds on the thin edge teeter,
And our God be glad and our world be sweeter.

Do thy duty, that is best,
Leave unto the Lord the rest.

Wheneer a task is set for you,
Dont idly sit and view it
Nor be content to wish it done;
Begin at once and do it.

Beautiful hands are those that do
Work that is earnest, brave and true,
Moment by moment, the long day through.

Theres no dew left on the daisies and clover,
Theres no rain left in heaven;
Ive said my seven times over and over,
Seven times one are seven.

I am old, so old I can write a letter;
My birthday lessons are done;
The lambs play always, they know no better
They are only one times one.

O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing
And shining so round and low;
You were bright, ah bright! but your light is failing,
You are nothing now but a bow.

You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven,
That God has hidden your face?
I hope, if you have, you will soon be forgiven,
And shine again in your place.

O velvet bee, youre a dusty fellow;
Youve powdered your legs with gold!
O brave marshmary buds, rich and yellow,
Give me your money to hold!

And show me your nest with the young ones in it,
I will not steal it away;
I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet,
I am seven times one to-day!

God bless the little stockings all over the land to-night
Hung in the choicest corners, in the glory of crimson light.
The tiny scarlet stockings, with a hole in the heel and toe,
Worn by the wonderful journeys that the darlings have to go.
And Heaven pity the children, wherever their homes may be,
Who wake at the first gray dawning, an empty stocking to see.

What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.

Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till the little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.

What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
Let me rise and fly away.

Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby, too, shall fly away.

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 wouldnt it be pleasanter
To treat it as a joke,
And say youre glad twas Dollys,
And not your head, that broke?

Suppose youre dressed for walking,
And the rain comes pouring down;
Will it clear off any sooner
Because you scold and frown?

And wouldnt 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 wouldnt it be wiser,
Than waiting like a dunce,
To go to work in earnest,
And learn the thing at once?

What does the daisy see
In the breezy meadows tossing?
It sees the wide blue fields oer head
And the little cloud flocks crossing.

What does the daisy see
Round the sunny meadows glancing?
It sees the butterflies chase
And the filmy gnats at their dancing.

What does the daisy see
Down in the grassy thickets?
The grasshoppers green and brown,
And the shining, coal-black crickets.

It sees the bobolinks nest,
That no one else can discover,
And the brooding mother-bird
With the floating grass above her.

Have you ever heard the wind go Yoooooo?
Tis a pitiful sound to hear;
It seems to chill you through and through
With a strange and speechless fear.
Tis the voice of the wind that broods outside
When folks should be asleep,
And many and manys the time Ive cried
To the darkness brooding far and wide
Over the land and the deep:
Whom do you want, O lonely night,
That you wail the long hours through?
And the night would say in its ghostly way:
Yoooooo! Yoooooooooo! Yoooooooooo!

My mother told me long ago
When I was a little lad
That when the night went wailing so,
Somebody had been bad;
And then when I was snug in bed,
Whither I had been sent,
With the blankets pulled up round my head,
Id think of what my mother said,
And wonder what boy she meant.
And, Whos been bad to-day? Id ask
Of the wind that hoarsely blew,
And the voice would say in its meaningful way:
Yoooooo! Yoooooooooo! Yoooooooooo!

That this was true, I must allow
Youll not believe it though,
Yes, though Im quite a model now,
I was not always so.
And if you doubt what things I say,
Suppose you make the test;
Suppose that when youve been bad some day,
And up to bed youre sent away
From mother and the rest
Suppose you ask, Who has been bad?
And then youll hear whats true;
For the wind will moan in its ruefulest tone:
Yoooooo! Yoooooooooo! Yoooooooooo!

Little white snowdrop, I pray you arise:
Bright yellow crocus, come, open your eyes:
Sweet little violets hid from the cold,
Put on your mantles of purple and gold.
Daffodils, daffodils, say, do you hear?
Summer is coming and springtime is here.

Suppose the little cowslip
Should hang its golden cup,
And say, Im such a tiny flower,
Id better not grow up;
How many a weary traveler
Would miss its fragrant smell,
And many a little child would grieve
To lose it from the dell.

Suppose the little breezes,
Upon a summers day,
Should think themselves too small
To cool the traveler on his way;
Who would not miss the smallest
And softest ones that blow,
And think they made a great mistake,
If they were talking so?

Suppose the little dewdrop
Upon the grass should say,
What can a little dewdrop do?
Id better roll away.
The blade on which it rested,
Before the day was done,
Without a drop to moisten it,
Would wither in the sun.

How many deeds of kindness
A little child can do,
Although it has but little strength,
And little wisdom, too!
It wants a loving spirit,
Much more than strength, to prove
How many things a child may do
For others by its love.

Come, little leaves, said the wind one day;
Come over the meadows with me, and play,
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
Summer is gone and the days grow cold.

Soon the leaves heard the winds loud call,
Down they fell fluttering, one and all.
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the soft little songs they knew.

Dancing and flying, the little leaves went;
Winter had called them, and they were content.
Soon fast asleep in their earthy beds,
The snow laid a white blanket over their heads.

If I were a sunbeam,
I know what Id do:
I would seek white lilies
Rainy woodlands through:
I would steal among them,
Softest light Id shed,
Until every lily
Raised its drooping head.

If I were a sunbeam,
I know where Id go:
Into lowliest hovels,
Dark with want and woe:
Till sad hearts looked upward,
I would shine and shine;
Then theyd think of heaven,
Their sweet home and mine.

Art thou not a sunbeam,
Child whose life is glad
With an inner radiance
Sunshine never had?
Oh, as God has blessed thee,
Scatter rays divine!
For there is no sunbeam
But must die, or shine.

A bumble bee, yellow as gold
Sat perched on a red-clover top,
When a grasshopper, wiry and old,
Came along with a skip and a hop.
Good morrow cried he, Mr. Bumble Bee,
You seem to have come to stop.

We people that work, said the bee with a jerk,
Find a benefit sometimes in stopping,
Only insects like you, who have nothing to do
Can keep perpetually hopping.
The grasshopper paused on his way
And thoughtfully hunched up his knees:
Why trouble this sunshiny day,
Quoth he, with reflections like these?
I follow the trade for which I was made
We all cant be wise bumble-bees;
Theres a time to be sad and a time to be glad,
A time for both working and stopping,
For men to make money, for you to make honey,
And for me to keep constantly hopping.

I once had a sweet little doll, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world;
Her cheeks were so red and so 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,
And 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 times sake, she is still to me
The prettiest doll in the world.

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 peoples 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?

We go on our walk together
Baby and dog and I
Three little merry companions,
Neath any sort of sky:
Blue as our babys eyes are,
Gray like our old dogs tail;
Be it windy or cloudy or stormy,
Our courage will never fail.

Babys a little lady;
Dog is a gentleman brave;
If he had two legs as you have,
Hed kneel to her like a slave;
As it is, he loves and protects her,
As dog and gentleman can.
Id rather be a kind doggie,
I think, than a cruel man.

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!

Hearts like doors can open with ease
To very, very little keys;
And neer forget that they are these:
I thank you, sir, and If you please.

Grandma told me all about it,
Told me so I couldnt doubt it,
How she danced, my grandma danced; long ago
How she held her pretty head,
How her dainty skirt she spread,
How she slowly leaned and roselong ago.

Grandmas hair was bright and sunny,
Dimpled cheeks, too, oh, how funny!
Really quite a pretty girllong ago.
Bless her! why, she wears a cap,
Grandma does and takes a nap
Every single day: and yet
Grandma danced the minuetlong ago.

Modern ways are quite alarming,
Grandma says, but boys were charming
(Girls and boys she means of course) long ago.
Brave but modest, grandly shy;
She would like to have us try
Just to feel like those who met
In the graceful minuetlong ago.