Poems That Every Child Should Know

Front matter

Poems Every Child Should Know

POEMS THAT EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW

A SELECTION OF THE BEST POEMS OF ALL TIMES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

Acknowledgments

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO PUBLISHERS AND AUTHORS

It sometimes happens that there are people who do not know that authors are protected by copyright laws. A publisher once cited to me an instance of a teacher who innocently put forth a little volume of poems that she loved and admired, without asking permission of any one. Her annoyance was boundless when she found that she had no right to the poems.

Special permission has been obtained for each copyrighted poem in this volume, and the right to publish has been purchased of the author or publisher, except in those cases where the author or the publisher has, for reasons of courtesy and friendship, given the permission.

In addition to the business arrangements which have been made, we wish to extend our thanks and acknowledgments to those firms which have so kindly allowed us to use their material.

To Houghton Mifflin & Company, of Boston, we are indebted for the use of the following poems: From the copyrighted works of Longfellow—"The Arrow and the Song," "A Fragment of Hiawatha's Childhood," "The Skeleton in Armour," "The Wreck of the Hesperus," "The Ship of State," "The Psalm of Life," "The Village Blacksmith." From Whittier—"Barbara Frietchie" and "The Three Bells of Glasgow." From Emerson—"The Problem." From Burroughs—"My Own Shall Come to Me." From Lowell—"The Finding of the Lyre," "The Shepherd of King Admetus," and a fragment of "The Vision of Sir Launfal." From Holmes—"The Chambered Nautilus" and "Old Ironsides." From James T. Fields—"The Captain's Daughter." From Bayard Taylor—"The Song in Camp." From Celia Thaxter—"The Sandpiper." From J. T. Trowbridge—"Farm-Yard Song." From Edith M. Thomas—"The God of Music" and Hermes' "Moly."

To Charles Scribner's Sons we are indebted for the use of the following poems: From the copyrighted works of Eugene Field—"Wynken, Blynken, and Nod," "Krinken," and "The Duel." From Robert Louis Stevenson—"My Shadow." From James Whitcomb Riley's poems—"Little Orphant Annie." From the poems of Sidney Lanier—"Barnacles" and "The Tournament." From "The Poems of Patriotism"—"Sheridan's Ride."

We are further indebted to Charles Scribner's Sons, as well as to Mr. George W. Cable, for "The New Arrival," taken from "The Cable Story Book," and to Mrs. Katherine Miller and Scribner's Magazine for "Stevenson's Birthday."

To J. B. Lippincott Company we are indebted for the use of "Sheridan's Ride," from the complete works of T. Buchanan Read.

To Harper & Brothers for the use of "Driving Home the Cows," by Kate Putnam Osgood.

To Little, Brown & Company, of Boston, "How the Leaves Came Down," by Susan Coolidge.

To the Whitaker & Ray Company, of San Francisco, "Columbus," by Joaquin Miller, from his complete works published and copyrighted by that company.

To D. Appleton & Company for "The Planting of the Apple-Tree" and "Robert of Lincoln," from the complete works of William Cullen Bryant; also for "Marco Bozzaris," from the works of Fitz-Greene Halleck.

To the Macmillan Company for "The Forsaken Merman," by Matthew Arnold, from the complete volume of his poems published by that company.

To the Howard University Print, Washington, D. C., for Jeremiah Rankin's little poem, "The Babie," from "Ingleside Rhaims."

To the heirs of Mary Emily Bradley for "A Chrysalis."

To Henry Holcomb Bennett for "The Flag Goes By."

Preface

PREFACE

Is this another collection of stupid poems that children cannot use? Will they look hopelessly through this volume for poems that suit them? Will they say despairingly, "This is too long," and "That is too hard," and "I don't like that because it is not interesting"?

Are there three or four pleasing poems and are all the rest put in to fill up the book? Nay. verily! The poems in this collection are those that children love. With the exception of seven, they are short enough for children to commit to memory without wearying themselves or losing interest in the poem. If one boy learns "The Overland Mail," or "The Recruit," or "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod," or "The Song in Camp," or "Old Ironsides," or "I Have a Little Shadow," or "The Tournament," or "The Duel," nine boys out of ten will be eager to follow him. I know because I have tried it a dozen times. Every boy loves "Paul Revere's Ride" (alas! I have not been able to include it), and is ambitious to learn it, but only boys having a quick memory will persevere to the end. Shall the slower boy be deprived of the pleasure of reading the whole poem and getting its inspiring sentiment and learning as many stanzas as his mind will take? No, indeed. Half of such a poem is better than none. Let the slow boy learn and recite as many stanzas as he can and the boy of quick memory follow him up with the rest. It does not help the slow boy's memory to keep it down entirely or deprive it of its smaller activity because he cannot learn the whole. Some people will invariably give the slow child a very short poem. It is often better to divide a long poem among the children, letting each child learn a part. The sustained interest of a long poem is worth while. "The Merman," "The Battle of Ivry," "Horatius at the Bridge," "Krinken," "The Skeleton in Armour," "The Raven" and "Hervé Riel" may all profitably be learned that way. Nevertheless, the child enjoys most the poem that is just long enough, and there is much to be said in favour of the selection that is adapted, in length, to the average mind; for the child hesitates in the presence of quantity rather than in the presence of subtle thought. I make claim for this collection that it is made up of poems that the majority of children will learn of their own free will. There are people who believe that in the matter of learning poetry there is no "ought," but this is a false belief. There is a duty, even there; for every American citizen ought to know the great national songs that keep alive the spirit of patriotism. Children should build for their future—and get, while they are children, what only the fresh imagination of the child can assimilate.

They should store up an untold wealth of heroic sentiment; they should acquire the habit of carrying a literary quality in their conversation; they should carry a heart full of the fresh and delightful associations and memories connected with poetry hours to brighten mature years. They should develop their memories while they have memories to develop.

Will the boy who took every poetry hour for a whole school year to learn "Henry of Navarre" ever regret it, or will the children who listened to it? No. It was fresh every week and they brought fresh interest in listening. The boy will always love it because he used to love it. There were boys who scrambled for the right to recite "The Tournament," "The Charge of the Light Brigade," "The Star-Spangled Banner," and so on. The boy who was first to reach the front had the privilege. The triumph of getting the chance to recite added to the zest of it. Will they ever forget it?

I know Lowell's "The Finding of the Lyre." Attention, Sir Knights! See who can learn it first as I say it to you. But I find that I have forgotten a line of it, so you may open your books and teach it to me. Now, I can recite every word of it. How much of it can you repeat from memory? One boy can say it all. Nearly every child has learned the most of it. Now, it will be easy for you to learn it alone. And Memory, the Goddess Beautiful, will henceforth go with you to recall this happy hour.

Mary E. Burt.

The John A. Browning School, 1904.

Index of Authors

INDEX OF AUTHORS

Anonymous Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, 6 The Days of the Month, 7 The Boy who Never Told a Lie, 19 The Bluebell of Scotland, 20 The Nautilus and the Ammonite, 188 A Ballad for a Boy, 236 Arnold, Matthew The Forsaken Merman, 260 Austin, Alfred To America, 335

Barbauld, A. L. Life, I Know Not What Thou Art, 299 Bennett, Henry Holcomb The Flag Goes By, 133 Blake, William A Dream, 116 Bowles, William Lisle The Butterfly and the Bee, 42 Bradley, Mary Emily A Chrysalis, 149 Brewer, Ebenezer Cobham Little Things, 5 Browning, Elizabeth Barrett From Casa Guida Windows, 222 A Musical Instrument, 275 Browning, Robert Pippa, 6 An Incident of the French Camp, 43 How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix, 173 Rabbi Ben Ezra, 312 Prospice, 320 Hervé Riel, 326 Bryant, William Cullen Robert of Lincoln, 44 The Planting of the Apple Tree, 211 Burns, Robert John Barleycorn, 83 To a Mouse, 92 To a Mountain Daisy, 94 Bannockburn, 142 For a' That, 151 The Banks o' Doon, 265 John Anderson, 274 Burroughs, John My Own Shall Come to Me, 267 Burt, Mary E. The Flying Squirrel, 60 Byron, Lord The Destruction of Sennacherib, 158 The Eve of Waterloo, 177

Cable, George W. The New Arrival, 152 Campbell, Thomas The Rainbow, 53 Lord Ullin's Daughter, 105 Hohenlinden, 134 Carroll, Lewis Father William, 33 Coleridge, Samuel T. He Prayeth Best, 5 If I Had But Two Little Wings, 21 Collins, William How Sleep the Brave, 133 Coolidge, Susan How the Leaves Came Down, 12 Cowper, William The Nightingale and the Glow-worm, 34 The Solitude of Alexander Selkirk, 190

Dickens, Charles The Ivy Green, 59 Douglas, William Annie Laurie, 226 Dyer, Edward Contentment, 286 Eliot, George The Choir Invisible, 303 Emerson, Ralph Waldo The Problem, 333

Field, Eugene Wynken, Blynken and Nod, 16 The Duel, 18 Krinken, 162 Fields, James T. The Captain's Daughter, 23 Foster, Stephen Collins My Old Kentucky Home, 136 Old Folks at Home, 137

Gould, Hannah Flagg The Frost, 39 A Name in the Sand, 256 Gray, Thomas Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, 306

Greene, Albert Gorton Old Grimes, 47

Halleck, Fitz-Greene Marco Bozarris, 128 Hemans, Felicia Casabianca, 22 The Homes of England, 192 The Landing of the Pilgrims, 229 The Voice of Spring, 259 Hood, Thomas I Remember, I Remember, 159 Hogg, James A Boy's Song, 50 The Skylark, 302 Holland, J. G Heaven is Not Reached at a Single Bound, 117 Holmes, Oliver Wendell Old Ironsides, 53 The Chambered Nautilus, 122 Howitt, Mary Buttercups and Daisies, 51 Hunt Leigh Abou Ben Adhem, 89 The Glove and the Lions, 184 Cupid Drowned, 234

Ingelow, Jean The Brides of Enderby, 277

Jonson, Ben The Noble Nature, 60

Keats, John Fairy Song, 50 On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer, 326 Key, Francis Scott The Star-Spangled Banner, 31 Kingsley, Charles A Farewell, 21 The Sands of Dee. 271 Kipling, Rudyard True Royalty, 7 Playing Robinson Crusoe, 8 The Overland Mail, 125 The Ballad of the Clampner-down, 154 L'Envoi, 285 Recessional, 321 The English Flag, 337 Knox, William Mortality, 323

Lanier, Sidney The Tournament, 110 Barnacles, 219 Lear, Edward The Owl and the Pussy-Cat, 15 Liddell, Catherine C. Jesus the Carpenter, 114 Longfellow, Henry W. The Arrow and the Song, 3 The Village Blacksmith, 25 Hiawatha's Childhood, 79 The Wreck of the Hesperus, 138 A Psalm of Life, 218 The Ship of State, 227 The Skeleton in Armour, 240 Lowell, James Russell The Finding of the Lyre, 148 The Shepherd of King Admetus, 171 June, 217 Lyly, John Cupid and My Campasbe, 235 Lyte, Henry Francis Abide With Me, 223

Macaulay, Thomas B. Ivy, 179 Horatius at the Bridge, 193 Macdonald, George Little White Lily, 10 The Wind and the Moon, 111 Mackay, Charles Song of Life, 48 Markham, Edwin The Man With the Hoe, 34 McClellan, Isaac The Death of Napoleon, 131 Miller, Joaquin Columbus, 169 Miller, Katherine Stevenson's Birthday, 164 Miller, William Willie Winkie, 13 Milton, John On His Blindness, 304 Montgomery, James Arnold von Winkleried, 296 Moore, Clement Clarke A Visit from St. Nicholas, 29 Moore, Thomas The Last Rose of Summer, 234 Cupid Stung, 234 The Light of Other Days, 266 The Harp That Once Through Tara's Hall, 287 Morris, George Pope Woodman, Spare That Tree 222

Newman, John Henry Lead, Kindly Light, 224

Osborne, Selleck A Modest Wit, 165 Osgood, Kate Putnam Driving Home the Cows, 160

Payne, John Howard Home, Sweet Home, 220 Pierpont, John Warren's Address, 63 Poe, Edgar Allan The Raven, 289

Pope, Alexander Solitude, 273

Raleigh, Sir Walter The Lye, 283 Rankin, Jeremiah Eames The Babie, 4 Read, Thomas Buchanan Sheridan's Ride, 68 Riley, James Whitcomb Little Orphant Annie, 54 Rogers, Samuel A Wish, 272

Sargent, Epes A Life on the Ocean Wave, 85 Scott, Sir Walter Lochinvar, 103 The Gathering Song of Donald Dhu, 126 Shakespeare, William Ingratitude, 58 Mercy, 300 Polonius' Advice, 301 A Fragment from Julius Cæsar, 301 Shelley, Percy Bysshe Ode to a Skylark, 268 Ozymandias in the Desert, 322 Smith, Samuel Francis America, 228 Southey, Robert The Battle of Blenheim, 117 The Inchcape Rock, 145 The Legend of Bishop Hatto, 166 The Well of St. Keyne, 186 Stevenson, Robert Louis My Shadow, 9

Taylor, Bayard The Song in Camp, 64 Taylor, Jane The Violet, 27 Tennyson, Alfred Sweet and Low, 27 The Owl, 40 The Bugle Song, 66 Lady Clare, 72

The Lord of Burleigh, 75 The Death of the Old Year, 86 The Charge of the Light Brigade, 107 Crossing the Bar, 124 The Brook, 153 The Lotos Eaters, 131 The Revenge, 246 Sir Galahad, 253 Thackeray, William Makepeace Little Billee, 41 Thaxter, Celia The Sandpiper, 71 Thomas, Edith Moly, 233 The God of Music, 275 Trowbridge, J. T. Farmyard Song, 90 Turner, Charles Tennyson Letty's Globe, 115

Watts, Isaac Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite, 4 Love Between Brothers and Sisters, 20 Whitman, Walt O Captain! My Captain! 57 Song of Myself, 344 Whittier, John G. The Three Bells of Glasgow, 67 Barbara Frietchie, 96 Wolfe, C. The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna, 176 Woodworth, Samuel The Old Oaken Bucket, 288 Wordsworth, William The Rainbow (a fragment), 28 I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, 82 Fidelity, 120 Lucy, 272 The World is Too Much With Us, 304 She Was a Phantom of Delight, 305 Wotton, Sir Henry A Happy Life, 220

Part I

PART I.

The Budding Moment

The Arrow and the Song

"The Arrow and the Song," by Longfellow (1807–82), is placed first in this volume out of respect to a little girl of six years who used to love to recite it to me. She knew many poems, but this was her favourite.

I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. >> Henry W. Longfellow

eo:Fundamenta Krestomatio/La sago kaj la kanto

Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite

"Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite," by Isaac Watts (1674–1748), and "Little Drops of Water," by Ebenezer Cobham Brewer (1810–97), are poems that the world cannot outgrow. Once in the mind, they fasten. They were not born to die.

Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For God hath made them so; Let bears and lions growl and fight, For 'tis their nature too.

But, children, you should never let Such angry passions rise; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes. >> Isaac Watts.

The Babie

I found "The Babie" in Stedman's "Anthology." It is placed in this volume by permission of the poet, Jeremiah Eames Rankin, of Cleveland (1828–), because it captured the heart of a ten-year-old boy whose fancy was greatly moved by the two beautiful lines:

Her face is like an angel's face, I'm glad she has no wings."

Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes. Nae stockin' on her feet; Her supple ankles white as snaw, Or early blossoms sweet.

Her simple dress o' sprinkled pink, Her double, dimplit chin, Her puckered lips, and baumy mou', With na ane tooth within.

Her een sae like her mither's een, Twa gentle, liquid things; Her face is like an angel's face: We're glad she has nae wings. >> Jeremiah Eames Rankin.

He Prayeth Best

These two stanzas, the very heart of that great poem, "The Ancient Mariner," by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834), sum up the lesson of this masterpiece—"Insensibility is a crime."

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well who loveth well Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best who loveth best All things, both great and small: For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all. >> Samuel T. Coleridge.

Little Things

Little drops of water, Little grains of sand, Make the mighty ocean And the pleasant land.

Thus the little minutes, Humble though they be, Make the mighty ages Of eternity. >> Ebenezer Cobham Brewer.

Pippa

"Spring's at the Morn," from "Pippa Passes," by Robert Browning (1812–89), has become a very popular stanza with little folks. "All's right with the world" is a cheerful motto for the nursery and school-room.

The year's at the spring, The day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hillside's dew pearled;

The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn; God's in His heaven— All's right with the world! >> Robert Browning.

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

Twinkle, twinkle, little star! How I wonder what you are, Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.

When the glorious sun is set, When the grass with dew is wet, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle all the night.

In the dark-blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye, Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark Guides the traveller in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star!

fi:Tähti (Taylor) sv:Blinka lilla stjärna

The Days of the Month

"The Days of the Month" is a useful bit of doggerel that we need all through life. It is anonymous.

Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; February has twenty-eight alone. All the rest have thirty-one, Excepting leap-year—that's the time When February's days are twenty-nine. >> Old Song.

True Royalty

"True Royalty" and "Playing Robinson Crusoe" are pleasing stanzas from "The Just So Stories" of Rudyard Kipling (1865–).

There was never a Queen like Balkis, From here to the wide world's end; But Balkis talked to a butterfly As you would talk to a friend.

There was never a King like Solomon, Not since the world began; But Solomon talked to a butterfly As a man would talk to a man.

She was Queen of Sabaea— And he was Asia's Lord— But they both of 'em talked to butterflies When they took their walks abroad. >> Rudyard Kipling.

Playing Robinson Crusoe

Pussy can sit by the fire and sing, Pussy can climb a tree, Or play with a silly old cork and string To 'muse herself, not me. But I like Binkie, my dog, because He knows how to behave; So, Binkie's the same as the First Friend was And I am the Man in the Cave.

Pussy will play Man-Friday till It's time to wet her paw And make her walk on the window-sill (For the footprint Crusoe saw); Then she fluffles her tail and mews, And scratches and won't attend. But Binkie will play whatever I choose, And he is my true First Friend.

Pussy will rub my knees with her head, Pretending she loves me hard; But the very minute I go to my bed Pussy runs out in the yard,

And there she stays till the morning-light; So I know it is only pretend; But Binkie, he snores at my feet all night, And he is my Firstest Friend! >> Rudyard Kipling.

My Shadow

"My Shadow," by Robert Louis Stevenson" (1850–94), is one of the most popular short poems extant. I have taught it to a great many very young boys, and not one has ever tried to evade learning it. Older pupils like it equally well.

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow— Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow; For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball, And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close beside me, he's a coward, you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed. >> Robert Louis Stevenson.

Little White Lily

This poem (George Macdonald, 1828–) finds a place in this volume because, as a child, I loved it. It completely filled my heart, and has made every member of the lily family dear to me. George Macdonald's charming book, "At the Back of the North Wind," also was my wonder and delight.

Little White Lily Sat by a stone, Drooping and waiting Till the sun shone.

Little White Lily Sunshine has fed; Little White Lily Is lifting her head.

Little White Lily Said: "It is good Little White Lily's Clothing and food." Little White Lily Dressed like a bride! Shining with whiteness, And crownèd beside.

Little White Lily Drooping with pain, Waiting and waiting For the wet rain. Little White Lily Holdeth her cup; Rain is fast falling And filling it up.

Little White Lily Said: "Good again, When I am thirsty To have the nice rain. Now I am stronger, Now I am cool; Heat cannot burn me, My veins are so full."

Little White Lily Smells very sweet; On her head sunshine, Rain at her feet. Thanks to the sunshine, Thanks to the rain, Little White Lily Is happy again. >> George Macdonald.

How the Leaves Came Down

"How the Leaves Came Down," by Susan Coolidge (1845–), appeals to children because it helps to reconcile them to going to bed. "I go to bed by day" is one of the crosses of childhood.

"I'll tell you how the leaves came down," The great Tree to his children said: "You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, Yes, very sleepy, little Red. It is quite time to go to bed."

"Ah!" begged each silly, pouting leaf, "Let us a little longer stay; Dear Father Tree, behold our grief! 'Tis such a very pleasant day, We do not want to go away."

So, for just one more merry day To the great Tree the leaflets clung, Frollicked and danced, and had their way, Upon the autumn breezes swung, Whispering all their sports among—

"Perhaps the great Tree will forget, And let us stay until the spring, If we all beg, and coax, and fret." But the great Tree did no such thing; He smiled to hear their whispering.

"Come, children, all to bed," he cried; And ere the leaves could urge their prayer, He shook his head, and far and wide, Fluttering and rustling everywhere, Down sped the leaflets through the air.

I saw them; on the ground they lay, Golden and red, a huddled swarm, Waiting till one from far away, White bedclothes heaped upon her arm, Should come to wrap them safe and warm.

The great bare Tree looked down and smiled. "Good-night, dear little leaves," he said. And from below each sleepy child Replied, "Good-night," and murmured, "It is so nice to go to bed!" >> Susan Coolidge.

Willie Winkie

"Wee Willie Winkie," by William Miller (1810–72), is included in this volume out of respect to an eight-year-old child who chose it from among hundreds. We had one poetry hour every week, and he studied and recited it with unabated interest to the end of the year.

Wee Willie Winkie rins through the town, Up-stairs and doon-stairs, in his nicht-gown, Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock, "Are the weans in their bed?—for it's now ten o'clock."

Hey, Willie Winkie! are ye comin' ben? The cat's singin' gay thrums to the sleepin' hen, The doug's speldered on the floor, and disna gie a cheep; But here 's a waukrife laddie that winna fa' asleep.

Onything but sleep, ye rogue! glow'rin' like the moon, Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon, Rumblin' tumblin' roun' about, crowin' like a cock, Skirlin' like a kenna-what—wauknin' sleepin' folk.

Hey, Willie Winkie! the wean's in a creel! Waumblin' aff a body's knee like a vera eel, Ruggin' at the cat's lug, and ravellin' a' her thrums,— Hey, Willie Winkie!—See, there he comes!

Wearie is the mither that has a storie wean, A wee stumpie stoussie that canna rin his lane, That has a battle aye wi' sleep before he'll close an ee; But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me. >> William Miller.

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat

"The Owl and the Pussy-Cat," by Edward Lear (1812–88), is placed here because I once found that a timid child was much strengthened and developed by learning it. It is a song that appeals to the imagination of children, and they like to sing it.

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat; They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the moon above, And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love! What a beautiful Pussy you are,— You are, What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl! How wonderful sweet you sing! Oh, let us be married,—too long we have tarried,— But what shall we do for a ring?" They sailed away for a year and a day To the land where the Bong-tree grows, And there in a wood a piggy-wig stood With a ring in the end of his nose,— His nose, With a ring in the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?" Said the piggy, "I will." So they took it away, and were married next day By the turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined upon mince and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon, And hand in hand on the edge of the sand They danced by the light of the moon,— The moon, They danced by the light of the moon. >> Edward Lear.

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod

"Wynken, Blynken, and Nod," by Eugene Field (1850–95), pleases children, who are all by nature sailors and adventurers.

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe,— Sailed on a river of crystal light Into a sea of dew. "Where are you going, and what do you wish?" The old moon asked the three. "We have come to fish for the herring-fish That live in this beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we," Said Wynken, Blynken, And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song, As they rocked in the wooden shoe; And the wind that sped them all night long Ruffled the waves of dew; The little stars were the herring-fish That lived in the beautiful sea.

"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,— Never afeard are we!" So cried the stars to the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw To the stars in the twinkling foam,— Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, Bringing the fishermen home: 'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed As if it could not be; And some folk thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed Of sailing that beautiful sea; But I shall name you the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, And Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, And Nod is a little head, And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one's trundle-bed; So shut your eyes while Mother sings Of wonderful sights that be, And you shall see the beautiful things As you rock on the misty sea Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. >> Eugene Field

The Duel

"The Duel," by Eugene Field (1850–95), is almost the most popular humorous poem that has come under my notice. In making such a collection as this it is not easy to find poems at once delicate, witty, and graphic. I have taught "The Duel" hundreds of times, and children invariably love it.

The gingham dog and the calico cat Side by side on the table sat; 'Twas half-past twelve, and (what do you think!) Nor one nor t'other had slept a wink! The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate Appeared to know as sure as fate There was going to be a terrible spat. (I wasn't there; I simply state What was told to me by the Chinese plate!)

The gingham dog went "bow-wow-wow!" And the calico cat replied "mee-ow!" The air was littered, an hour or so, With bits of gingham and calico, While the old Dutch clock in the chimney-place Up with its hands before its face, For it always dreaded a family row! (Now mind: I'm only telling you What the old Dutch clock declares is true!)

The Chinese plate looked very blue, And wailed, "Oh, dear! what shall we do!" But the gingham dog and the calico cat Wallowed this way and tumbled that, Employing every tooth and claw In the awfullest way you ever saw—