Hear what the mournful linnets say… ‘We built our nest compact and war… But cruel boys came round our way And took our summerhouse by storm. ‘They crushed the eggs so neatly l…
Eight o’clock; The postman’s knock! Five letters for Papa; One for Lou, And none for you,
A white hen sitting On white eggs three: Next, three speckled chickens As plump as plump can be. An owl, and a hawk,
A motherless soft lambkin Along upon a hill; No mother’s fleece to shelter him And wrap him from the cold: — I’ll run to him and comfort him,
Our little baby fell asleep, And may not wake again For days and days, and weeks and w… But then he’ll wake again, And come with his own pretty look,
O earth, lie heavily upon her eyes… Seal her sweet eyes weary of watch… Lie close around her; leave no roo… With its harsh laughter, nor for s… She hath no questions, she hath no…
Stroke a flint, and there is nothi… Strike a flint, and forthwith flas…
A night was near, a day was near, Between a day and night I heard sweet voices calling clear… Calling me: I heard a whirr of wing on wing,
The year stood at its equinox And bluff the North was blowing, A bleat of lambs came from the flo… Green hardy things were growing; I met a maid with shining locks
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
I marked where lovely Venus and h… With song and dance and merry laug… Weightless, their wingless feet se… Bound from the ground and in mid a… Left far behind I heard the dolph…
The dear old woman in the lane Is sick and sore with pains and ac… We’ll go to her this afternoon, And take her tea and eggs and cake… We’ll stop to make the kettle boil…
I dug and dug amongst the snow, And thought the flowers would neve… I dug and dug amongst the sand, And still no green thing came to h… Melt, O snow! the warm winds blow
Pardon the faults in me, For the love of years ago: Good—bye. I must drift across the sea, I must sink into the snow,
Consider The lilies of the field whose bloo… We are as they; Like them we fade away, As doth a leaf.