Long ago and long ago, And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant hill. One was tall Megan,

Underneath the growing grass, Underneath the living flowers, Deeper than the sound of showers: There we shall not count the hours By the shadows as they pass.

A toadstool comes up in a night, — Learn the lesson, little folk: — An oak grows on a hundred years, But then it is an oak.

Hopping frog, hop here and be seen… I’ll not pelt you with stick or st… Your cap is laced and your coat is… Good bye, we’ll let each other alo… Plodding toad, plod here and be lo…

How comes it, Flora, that, whenev… Play cards together, you invariabl… However the pack parts, Still hold the Queen of Hearts? I’ve scanned you with a scrutinizi…

Oh what is that country And where can it be, Not mine own country, But dearer far to me? Yet mine own country,

Lo dì che han detto a’ dolci amici… Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vi… Come back to me, who wait and watc… Or come not yet, for it is over th… And long it is before you come aga…

Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing, Nor cricket chirping cheerily, Nor grasshopper so light of leap,

Dead in the cold, a song—singing t… Dead at the foot of a snowberry bu… Weave him a coffin of rush, Dig him a grave where the soft mos… Raise him a tombstone of snow.

Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.

She holds a lily in her hand, Where long ranks of Angels stand, A silver lily for her wand. All her hair falls sweeping down; Her hair that is a golden brown,

Eight o’clock; The postman’s knock! Five letters for Papa; One for Lou, And none for you,