Poetry for home and school

Preface

THE apology which is in some measure due to the public for presenting herewith another compilation of poems, consists in the fact that among the many now in existence, there did not seem to be one which answered the demands of our daily professional work.

We have been desirous of impressing the children, from their earliest school-days, with the exceptional beauty and richness of their own language, and the ease with which it lends itself in sound and rhythm to the expression of the most varied emotions, and the loftiest aspirations.

Starting with the principle that no poems should be admitted except those which had borne the test of time, and whose right to a place in the domain of true art had been conceded, we have only in a few cases departed from it.

These exceptions will be found principally, however, in the first part, which comprises the poems designed to be learned by children from six to ten years of age. In this department, the range from which to select is very limited.

With regard to the whole, it may be remarked that to compile from a mass of poetical litera-

IV. PREFACE.

ture which extends in an unbroken line for more than four hundred years, is no easy task, nor do we suppose that any critic will be entirely satisfied. We hope, however, that the members of our own profession may find the volume to supply a want which has been for many years recognized.

The arrangement may possibly call for a word of explanation. It is based upon the practical wants of the school-room. The poems may be learned in the order in which they stand, without the monotony arising from arranging all the poems of one author together. The double index will make it easy to refer to any author or any selection, when desired.

Our acknowledgments are due and are hereby gratefully tendered to all those authors and publishers who have at once and freely, given us the right to use poems. Though, as has been said, the volume is especially designed for the use of schools, it is hoped and believed that it will be found of practical value in the family and home.

A. C. B.

9 West 39th St., New York City. March, 1876.

INDEX OF AUTHORS.

Allingham, William, page

Robin Redbreast » 35

The Fairies 32

Wishing 6

Beaumont and Fletcher.

To Pan 297

Beddoes, Thomas L.

The Sea 117

Braddock, Emily A.

Choosing a Building Spot 17

Browning, Robert.

How they brought the Good News 220

Incident of the French Camp 169

The Pied Piper of Hamelin 125

Bryant, William C.

Robert of Lincoln 113

The Death of the Flowers 223

To a Waterfowl .... 219

To the Evening Wind ... 145

Burns, Robert.

Bannockburn 189

Honest Poverty 225

John Barleycorn „ 54

My Heart's in the Highlands 29

To a Field Mouse 176

To a Mountain Daisy 140

Byron, Lord.

The Destruction of Sennacherib 307

The Isles of Greece 148

Campbell, Thomas.

Glenara 271

Hohenlinden 101

Lord Ullin's Danghter 303

Song of the Greeks 248

The Soldier's Dream ' 94

Ye Mariners of England 76

Carey, Phcebe.

Suppose 20

The Chicken's Mistake 16

The Crow's Children 21

Carter, Mrs.

Nursery Song 10

Chaucer, Geoffrey.

The Prologue 214

Clare, John.

The Summer Evening 203 vi Index of A uthors,

Coleridge, Samuel T. page

Answer to a Child's Question 51

Hymn before Sunrise, in the Vale of Chamouni 239

Collins, William.

The Dirge in Cymbeline 72

The Passions 230

Coolidge, Susan

Mrs- June's Prospectus 12

Cornwall, Barry.

Belshazzar 200

Golden-tressed Adelaide 28

The Stormy Petrel 90

Cowley, Abraham

The Grasshopper 120

Cowper, William

John Gilpin 77

Loss of the Royal George 138

The Faithful Bird 73

Dickens, Charles.

The Ivy Green 260

Emerson. Ralph W.

Each and All 273

The House = 229

The Mountain and the Squirrel 18

Fletcher, John,

Country Scenes 85

Goethe

Rest 115

The Erl King 71

Goldsmith, Oliver

An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog , 198

Gray, Thomas

Elegy 292

Ode on Eton College 288

The Bard 185

H. C. B.

Autumn Song of a Little girl 18

Hem ans, Felicia

Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers 69

Herbert, George

Sunday 190

Virtue 93

Herrick, Robert

To Blossoms . . . . ; 163

To Daffodils 121

Hogg, James

The Skylark 242

Holmes, Oliver W.

The Chambered Nautilus 276

Houghton, Lord — R. M. Milnes

Lady Moon 49

Howard, Henry — Earl of Surrey

Description of Spring 242

Ho witt, Mary

A Ballad — Translated from Herder 38

Index of Authors. vii

PAGE

Mabel on Midsummer Day 41

The Fairies of the Caldon-Low 63

The Use of Flowers 57

Howitt, William

The Northern Seas 58

The Wind in a Frolic 60

Hunt, Leigh

Abou Ben Adhem 147

Chorus of Flowers 108

Jaffar 262

The Dryads 298

Hutchinson, Nelly M.

Vagrant Pansies 10

Ingelow, Jean

Songs of Seven — Seven Times One 7

Seven Times Two 215

The Singing Lesson 87

Jonson, Ben

Hymn to Diana 287

Triumph of Charis 20 1

Keats, John

Ode on the Poets 162

Kingsley, Charles

A Farewell 315

Ode to the North-east Wind 211

Larcom, Lucy

Flower-girls 24

In the Tree -Top 25

Longfellow, Henry W-

A Psalm of Life 209

Burial of the Minnesink 117

My Lost Youth 266

Song of the Silent Land 218

The Builders ; 213

The Castle by the Sea 142

The Secret of the Sea 302

The Wreck of the Hesperus 105

Lovelace, Richard

To Althea from Prison 178

To Lucasta on going to the Wars 164

Lowell, James R.

The Beggar. 284

The Fountain 74

MacDonald, George

Little White Lily 33.

The Wind and the Moon 30

Mackay, Charles

The Miller of Dee 112

Marlowe, Christopher

The Shepherd to his Love 133

Miller, William

Willie Winkie 50

Milton, John

Hymn, on the Morning of Christ's Nativity 308

Index of Authors.

PAGE

II Penseroso 152

L' Allegro 157

Lycidas 233

On his Blindness 245

M. M. D.

Pussy's Class 13

Moore, Clement C.

Christmas Times 37

Old Ballad

Chevy Chase 249

King John and the Abbot of Canterbury 278

Robin Hood and Allan a Dale 135

Robin Hood and the Bishop of Hereford 195

Sir Patrick Spence 66

Old English Poetry

Peace of Mind 143

That each thing is hurt of itself. ..." 203

Percival, James G.

The Coral Grove 51

Raleigh, Walter

The Lie 258

The Nymph's Reply 134

Scott, Walter

Helvellyn ; 1 19

Lullaby of an Infant Chief 1

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu 48

Song 314

Young Lochinvar 222

Shakespeare, William

A Consolation 174

A Madrigal 277

Ariel's Songs . 88

Blow, blow, thou Winter Wind 291

Fidele 286

Song of the Fairy 89

The approach of the Fairies 199

Time and Love 161

To his Love 305

True Love 228

Under the Greenwood Tree 278

Winter 184

Shelley, Percy B.

Arethusa 245

To a Skylark 170

To the Night*. : 175

Shenstone, William

The Shepherd's Home 261

Southey, Caroline Bowles

To the Lady Bird 36

Southey, Robert

After Blenheim 123

The Inchcape Rock 103

Southwell, Robert

Times go by Turns 147

Index of Authors. ix

PAGB

Spenser, Edmund

Prothalamion 164

Sonnets 2 16

Taylor, Bayard

A Night with a Wolf 27

Tennyson, Alfred

A Farewell 286

Bugle Song 228

Flower in the Crannied Wall 195

Home they Brought her Warrior Dead 283

Sir Galahad 299

Stanzas from In Memoriam 296

Sweet and Low 272

The Brook 99

The Deserted House 140

The Garden Song 191

The May Queen 264

The New Year 151

Turn, Fortune 243

What does little birdie say 3

Thackeray, William M.

The Mahogany Tree 52

Thaxter, Celia

Spring 23

Trench, Richard C.

A Dewdrop falling , 204

Wadsworth, Olive A.

Warner, L. G.

Friends 94

Whittier, John G«

My Playmate 269

Telling the Bees 193

The Red River Voyageur 282

Wolfe, Charles

The Burial of Sir John Moore 98

Wordsworth, William

Lucy 274

Ode on Intimations of Immortality .... 179

Ode to Duty 226

The Lost Love 291

The Pet Lamb 95

The Reaper 102

To the Small Celandine 91

We are Seven 61

Wotton, Henry

Character of a Happy Life 244

Wyatt, Thomas

A Supplication 174

Anonymous

Advice 19

Beautiful Grandmamma • 8

Hunting Eggs 14

Index of A uthors.

PAGE

Ready for Duty 25

The Moss Rose 73

The Old Man in the Wood 1

V

POETRY.

LULLABY OF AN LNFANT CHIEF.

0, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,

Thy mother a lady both lovely and bright ;

The woods and the glens from the tower which we see,

They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.

O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.

O, hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come, When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum ; Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.

Sir Walter Scott.

THE OLD MAN IN THE WOOD.

There was an old man who lived in a wood,

As you shall plainly see ; He thought he could do more work in one day

Than his wife could do in three.

Foe try.

" With all my heart," the old dame said ;

" And if you will allow, You shall stay at home to-day,

And I'll go follow the plow.

" But you must milk the tiny cow,

Lest she should go quite dry : And you must feed the little pigs

That are within the sty ;

" And you must watch the speckled hen,

Lest she should go astray ; Not forgetting the spool of yarn

That I spin every day."

The old woman took the stick in her hand,

And went to follow the plow ; The old man put the pail on his head.

And went to milk the cow.

But Tiny she winced, and Tiny she flinched,

And Tiny she tossed her nose ; And Tiny gave him a kick on the shin,

Till the blood ran down to his toes.

And a " Ho, Tiny ! " and a " So, Tiny !

Pretty little cow, stand still ! If ever I milk you again," he said,

" It shall be against my will."

And then he went to feed the pigs

That were within the sty ; He knocked his nose against the shed,

And caused the blood to fly.

And then he watched the speckled hen,

Lest she should go astray ; But he quite forgot the spool of yarn

That his wife spun every day.

For Home and School.

And when the old woman came home at night,

He said he could plainly see That his wife could do more work in a day

Than he could do in three !

And when he saw how well she plowed,

And made the furrows even, Said his wife could do more work in a day

Than he could do in seven !

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 fiy away.

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

A If red Tennyson.

Over in the meadow, In the sand, in the sun,

Lived an old mother-toad And her little toadie one.

" Wink ! " said the mother ;

" I wink," said the one : So she winked and she blinked

In the sand, in the sun.

Where the stream runs blue, Lived an old mother-fish

And her little fishes two.

" Swim ! " said the mother ;

" We swim," said the two : So they swam and they leaped

Where the stream runs blue.

In a hole in a tree, Lived a mother-bluebird

And her little birdies three.

" Sing ! " said the mother ;

" We sing," said the three : So they sang, and were glad,

In the hole in the tree.

In the reeds on the shore, Lived a mother-muskrat

And her little ratties four.

" Dive ! " said the mother ;

" We dive," said the four : So they dived and they burrowed

In the reeds on the shore.

In a snug beehive, Lived a mother-honeybee

And her little honeys five.

" Buzz ! " said the mother ;

"We buzz," said the five : So they buzzed and they hummed

In the snug beehive.

For Home and School.

In a nest built of sticks, Lived a black mother-crow

And her little crows six.

"Caw ! " said the mother;

" We caw," said the six : So they cawed and they called

In their nest built of sticks.

Where the grass is so even, Lived a gay mother-cricket

And her little crickets seven.

" Chirp ! " said the mother ;

" We chirp," said the seven : So they chirped cheery notes

In the grass soft and even.

By the old mossy gate, Lived a brown mother-lizard

And her little lizards eight.

" Bask ! " said the mother ;

" We bask," said the eight : So they basked in the sun

On the old mossy gate.

Where the clear pools shine, Lived a green mother-frog

And her little froggies nine.

" Croak ! " said the mother ;

44 We croak," said the nine : So they croaked, and they plashed,

Where the clear pools shine.

In a sly little den, Lived a gray mother-spider

And her little spiders ten.

Poetry.

u Spin ! " said the mother ;

" We spin," said the ten : So they spun lace webs

In their sly little den.

In the soft summer even, Lived a mother-fire-fly

And her little flies eleven.

" Shine ! " said the mother ;

"We shine," said the eleven: So they shone like stars In the soft summer even.

Where the men dig and delve, Lived a wise mother-ant

And her little anties twelve.

" Toil ! " said the mother ;

" We toil," said the twelve : So they toiled, and were wise.

Where the men dig and delve.

Olive A. Wads worth.

WISHING.

Ring-ting ! I wish I were a Primrose,

A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the spring !

The stooping boughs above me,

The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across,

And the Elm-tree for our king !

Nay-stay ! I wish I were an Elm-tree, A great lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay ! The winds would set them dancing, The sun and moonshine glance in, The birds would house among the boughs, And sweetly sing.

For Home and School.

O no ! I wish I were a Robin,

A Robin or a little Wren, everywhere to go,

Through forest, field, or garden,

And ask no leave or pardon, Till winter comes with icy thumbs

To ruffle up our wing !

Well-tell ! Where should I fly to,

Where go to sleep in the dark wood or dell ?

Before a day was over,

Home comes the rover, For mother's kiss — sweeter this

Than any other thing.

William Allingham.

* 6 *

SONGS OF SEVENS Seven Times One. Exultation.

There's no dew left on the daisies and clover,

There's no rain left in heaven ; I've 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.

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 ?

1 hope if you have you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place.

Poetry.

O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow,

You've powdered your legs with gold ! O brave marsh-mary buds, rich and yellow,

Give me your money to hold !

O columbine, open your folded wrapper, Where two twin turtle doves dwell !

cuckoo-pint, toll me the purple clapper ! That hangs in your clear green bell.

And show me your nest with the young ones in it ; I will not steal them away ;

1 am old ! you may trust me, linnet, linnet —

I am seven times one to-day.

Jean Ingelow.

BEAUTIFUL GRANDMAMMA.

Grandmamma sits in her quaint arm-chair ; Never was lady more sweet and fair ; Her gray locks ripple like silver shells, And her own brow its story tells Of a gentle life and peaceful even, A trust in God, and a hope in heaven.

Little girl Mary sits rocking away

In her own low seat, like some winsome fay ;

Two doll babies her kisses share,

And another one lies by the side of her chair ;

May is as fair as the morning dew,

Cheeks of roses, and ribbons of blue.

" Say, Grandmamma," says the pretty elf,

" Tell me a story about yourself.

When you were little, what did you play ?

Were you good or naughty the whole long day ?

Was it hundreds and hundreds of years ago ?

And what makes your soft hair as white as snow ?

For Home and School. o

Did you have a mamma to hug and kiss ? And a dolly like this, and this, and this ? Did you have a pussy like my little Kate ? Did you go to bed when the clock struck eight ? Did you have long curls, and beads like mine ? And a new silk apron with ribbons fine ? "

Grandmamma smiled at the little maid, And laying aside her knitting, she said ; " Go to my desk, and a red box you'll see ; Carefully lift it, and bring it to me." So May put her dollies away, and ran, Saying, " I'll be careful as ever I can."

The Grandmamma opened the box, and lo ! A beautiful child with throat like snow, Lip just tinted like pink shells rare, Eyes of hazel, and golden hair, Hand all dimpled, and teeth like pearls, — Fairest and sweetest of little girls.

" Oh ! who is it ? " cried winsome May, " How I wish she were here to-day ! Wouldn't I love her like everything ; Wouldn't I with her frolic and sing ! Say, dear Grandmamma, who can she be ? " " Darling, " said grandmamma, " I was she."

May looked long at the dimpled grace,

And then at the saint-like, fair old face :

u How funny ! " she cried, with a smile and a kiss,

"To have such a dear little grandma as this !

Still," she added with smiling zest,

"I think, dear Grandma, I like yozt best."

So May climbed on the silken knee,

And grandmamma told her history :

What plays she played, what toys she had,

How at times she was naughty, or good, or sad.

" But the best thing you did," said May, "don't you see ?

Was to grow a beautiful grandma forme."

A noji.

i o Poetry.

*8*

VAGRANT PANSIES.

They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together — Purples, Yellow Cap and little Baby Blue : How they ever got there, you must ask the April weather, The morning and the evening winds, the sunshine and the dew.

Why they should go visiting the tall and haughty lilies Is very odd, and none of them will condescend to say : They might have made a call upon the jolly daffodillies ; They might have come to my house any pleasant day.

They don't have a good time, I think, their little faces Look so very solemn underneath each velvet hood, I wonder, don't they feel among the garden's airs and graces That shy cousin Violet is happier in the wood ?

Ah, my pretty pansies, it's no use to go a-seeking: There isn't any good time waiting anywhere : I fancy even Violet is troubled — mildly speaking — When somebody plucks her, finding her so fair.

There's nothing left for you, my pets, but just to do your

duty- Bloom, and make the world sweet — that's the best for you ; There isn't much that's lovelier than your bashful beauty, My purples, my Yellow Cap, my little Baby Blue.

Nelly M. Hutchinson.

* 9 *

NURSERY SONG.

As I walked over the hill one day, I listened and heard a mother sheep say, " In all the green world there is nothing so sweet As my little lammie with his nimble feet, With his eves so bright,

For Home and School. i

And his wool so white — Oh, he is my darling, my heart's delight." And the mother-sheep and the little one, Side by side lay down in the sun, And they went to sleep on the hillside warm, While my little lammie lies here on my arm.

I went to the kitchen, and what did I see

But the old gray cat with her kittens three !

I heard her whispering soft ; said she,

" My kittens with tails so cunningly curled

Are the prettiest things that can be in the world.

The bird on the tree,

And the old ewe, she

May love their babies exceedingly,

But I love my kittens there

Under the rocking-chair ; I love my kittens with all my might, I love them at morning, noon, and night; Now I'll take up my kitties, the kitties I love, And we'll lie down together beneath the warm stove." Let the kittens sleep under the stove so warm, While my little kitten lies here on my arm.

I went to the yard, and saw the old hen

Go clucking about with her chickens ten.

She clucked, and she scratched, and she bustled away,