Thanksgiving
Praise God for wheat, so white and sweet,
Of which to make our bread!
Praise God for yellow corn, with which
His waiting world is fed!
Praise God for fish and flesh and fowl
He gave to men for food!
Praise God for every creature which
He made, and called it good!
Praise God for winter's store of ice!
Praise God for summer's heat!
Praise God for fruit trees, bearing seed;
"To you it is for meat!"
Praise God for all the bouncy
By which the world is fed!
Praise God ye children, all to whom
He gives your daily bread!
Showing posts with label Illustrated Children's Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Illustrated Children's Poetry. Show all posts
Friday, November 25, 2022
Thanksgiving by Anonymous
Sunday, October 24, 2021
Halloween Cats
Halloween Cats
Black cats, of season
Halloween,
You are the queerest I
have seen.
In pose, you're somewhat
like a curtain,
But that you're casts, I'm
still quite certain.
Your figures, rather
Oriental,
Would stamp you purely
ornamental.
No rat or bird such cats
would shun,
From you no smallest mouse would run.
For this, I love you, gentle
creatures,
And much admire your pleasant features.
Thursday, July 9, 2020
Two Illustrated Rhymes from The 1800's
Illustrated rhyme from St. Nicholas Book anthologies. |
"Angelina Titherington
Was not at all too smart.
She bought some cheese
and butter-beans
To make an Apple tart."
Illustrated rhyme from St. Nicholas Book anthologies. |
"My little dog's
quite clever,
When we go
for a lark,
He's smarter then
than ever,
He'll bark and bark
and bark."
Friday, July 3, 2020
Toys At Night
by Fred E. Weatherly
Good-night, dear Dolly, do not fear,
For good old Dobbin's watching near,
And now and then he'll give a bray
And that will keep the ghosts away.
Good-night, dear Dobbin, stay awake
And watch o'er Dolly for my sake;
Don't let her fear - you understand,
But keep good watch in Cupboard Land.
Good-night, my dear old buther's shop,
Good-night, dear drum, and flag, and top;
When day returns we'll have such fun,
Good-night, good-night, to every one!
Thursday, July 2, 2020
Choosing A Name
Name a doll of your very own! |
by Charles Lamb
I have got a new-born sister;
I was nigh the first that kissed her.
When the nursing woman brought her
To papa, his infant daughter,
How papa's dear eyes did glisten!
She will shortly be to christen:
And papa has made the offer,
I shall have the naming of her.
Now I wonder what would please her,
Charlotte, Julia, or Louisa.
Ann and Mary, they're too common;
Joan's too formal for a woman;
Jane's a prettier name beside;
But we had a Jane that died.
They would say, if 'twas Rebecca,
That she was a little Quaker.
Edith's pretty, but that looks
Better in old English books;
Ellen's left off long ago;
Blanche is out of fashion
now.
None that I have named as yet
Are as good as Margaret.
Emily is neat and fine.
What do you think of Caroline?
How I am puzzled and perplexed
What to choose or think of next!
I am in a little fever.
Lest the name that I shall give her
Should disgrace her or defame her
I will leave papa to name her.
I will leave papa to name her.
Monday, March 5, 2018
Rigmarole
Rigmarole.
There is a land where bunnies dance
While foxes play the flute,
Where puppy-dogs in polkas prance,
And bear-cubs swiftly shoot
In sledges o'er the slipp'ry ice,
Which isn't safe, though very nice.
There on their hind-legs kittens walk,
And elephants steal jam,
There lions sit at tea and talk,
As gentle as a lamb,
There rats at school long copies write,
While bears are put to bed at night.
And if you don't believe it, look
At all the pages in my book!
The Rain Regiment
The Rain Regiment
by Mathilda Schirmer
Across the city's many roofs
Comes a sound of heavy hoofs...
The Regiment of Rain
That beats the windowpane;
That floods each country lane;
That tramples the farmers' grain;
That tangles the horse's mane;
That teases the weather vane,
And angers the raging main!
There are none who can refrain
From admiring the Regiment of Rain.
Saturday, February 24, 2018
The Country Round, The Country Faith
THE COUNTRY ROUND
THE COUNTRY FAITH
Here in the country's heart,
Where the grass is green,
Life is the same sweet life
As it e'er hath been.
Trust in God still lives,
And the bell at morn
Floats with a thought of God
O'er the rising corn.
God comes down in the rain,
And the crop grows tall-
This is the country faith,
And the best of all!
The Cow
THE COW
The friendly cow all red and white,
I love with all my heart:
She gives me cream with all her might,
To eat with apple-tart.
She wanders lowing here and there.
And yet she cannot stray,
All in the pleasant open air,
The pleasant light of day;
And blown by all the winds that pass
And wet with all the showers,
She walk among the meadow grass
And eats the meadow flowers.
The Popular Poplar Tree.
The Popular Poplar Tree.
by Blanche Willis Howard.
When the great wind sets things whirling
And rattles the window-panes,
And blows the dust in giants
And dragons tossing their manes;
When the willows have waves like water,
And the children are shouting with glee;
When the pines are alive and the larches,
Then hurrah for you and me,
In the tip o' the top o' the top o' the tip of
the popular poplar tree!
Don't talk about Jack and the Beanstalk
He did not climb half so high!
And Alice in all her travels
Was never so near the sky!
Only the swallow, a-skimming
The storm-cloud over the lea,
Knows how it feels to be flying-
When the gust come strong and free-
In the tip o' the top o' the top o' the tip of
the popular poplar tree!
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