Baby Seed Song

But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair;

For high

In the sky,

With her one white eye,

Motionless, miles above the air,

She had never heard the great Wind blare.

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George Macdonald [1824-1905]

CHILD'S SONG IN SPRING

THE silver birch is a dainty lady,

She wears a satin gown;

The elm tree makes the old churchyard shady,

She will not live in town.

The English oak is a sturdy fellow,
He gets his green coat late;

The willow is smart in a suit of yellow,
While brown the beech trees wait.

Such a gay green gown God gives the larches-
As green as He is good!

The hazels hold up their arms for arches
When Spring rides through the wood.

The chestnut's proud, and the lilac's pretty,
The poplar's gentle and tall,

But the plane tree's kind to the poor dull city—
I love him best of all!

Edith Nesbit [1858

BABY SEED SONG

LITTLE brown brother, oh! little brown brother,

Are you awake in the dark?

Here we lie cosily, close to each other:

Hark to the song of the lark

"Waken!" the lark says, "waken and dress you;

Put on your green coats and gay,

Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you—
Waken! 'tis morning-'tis May!"

Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother,
What kind of flower will you be?

I'll be a poppy-all white, like my mother;
Do be a poppy like me.

What! you're a sun-flower? How I shall miss you
When you're grown golden and high!

But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you;

Little brown brother, good-bye.

Edith Nesbit [1858

LITTLE DANDELION

GAY little Dandelion

Lights up the meads,
Swings on her slender foot,
Telleth her beads,

Lists to the robin's note

Poured from above;

Wise little Dandelion

Asks not for love.

Cold lie the daisy banks
Clothed but in green,
Where, in the days agone,

Bright hues were seen.
Wild pinks are slumbering,
Violets delay;

True little Dandelion

Greeteth the May.

Brave little Dandelion!

Fast falls the snow,
Bending the daffodil's
Haughty head low.
Under that fleecy tent,
Careless of cold,
Blithe little Dandelion
Counteth her gold.

Meek little Dandelion

Groweth more fair,

Till dies the amber dew

Out from her hair.

Little White Lily

High rides the thirsty sun,

Fiercely and high;
Faint little Dandelion
Closeth her eye.

Pale little Dandelion,

In her white shroud,
Heareth the angel-breeze
Call from the cloud;
Tiny plumes fluttering
Make no delay;

Little winged Dandelion

Soareth away.

Helen Barron Bostwick [1826

LITTLE WHITE LILY

From "Within and Without "

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 crowned 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.

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George Macdonald [1824-1905]

WISHING

RING-TING! I wish I were a Primrose,

A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the Spring!
The stooping bough 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!

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 [1824-1889]

BEASTS, BIRDS AND FISHES

THE Dog will come when he is called,
The Cat will walk away;
The Monkey's cheek is very bald;
The Goat is full of play.

The Parrot is a prate-apace,

Yet knows not what he says;
The noble Horse will win the race,
Or draw you in a chaise.

Beasts, Birds and Fishes

The Pig is not a feeder nice,

The Squirrel loves a nut;

The Wolf would eat you in a trice
The Buzzard's eyes are shut.
The Lark sings high up in the air,
The Linnet in the tree;

The Swan he has a bosom fair,
And who so proud as he?

Oh, yes, the Peacock is more proud,
Because his tail has eyes,
The Lion roars so very loud,

He'd fill you with surprise.

The Raven's coat is shining black,
Or, rather, raven-gray.

The Camel's hump is on his back,
The Owl abhors the day.

The Sparrow steals the cherry ripe,
The Elephant is wise;

The Blackbird charms you with his pipe,

The false Hyena cries.

The Hen guards well her little chicks,

The useful Cow is meek;

The Beaver builds with mud and sticks;
The Lap-wing loves to squeak.

The little Wren is very small,
The Humming-bird is less;
The Lady-bird is least of all,
And beautiful in dress.

The Pelican, she loves her young;
The Stork, his father loves;
The Woodcock's bill is very long,
And innocent are Doves.

The spotted Tiger's fond of blood,

The Pigeons feed on peas;
The Duck will gobble in the mud,

The Mice will eat your cheese.

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