Thistledown in prison sings: Bright shines the summer sun, Soft is the summer air; Gayly the wood-birds sing, Flowers are blooming fair.

‘Y’ are the maiden posies, And so graced, To be placed Fore damask roses. Yet, though thus respected,

Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. Who straightway peeped out of the…

‘We are sending you, dear flowers, Forth alone to die, Where your gentle sisters may not… O’er the cold graves where you lie… But you go to bring them fadeless…

Brighter shone the golden shadows; On the cool wind softly came The low, sweet tones of happy flow… Singing little Violet’s name. ‘Mong the green trees was it whisp…

‘I write about the butterfly, It is a pretty thing; And flies about like the birds, But it does not sing. ’First it is a little grub,

Oh! a bare, brown rock Stood up in the sea, The waves at its feet Dancing merrily. A little bubble

Love comes to all soon or late, And maketh gay or sad; For every bird will find its mate, And every lass a lad,

Awake! Awake! for the earliest gl… Of golden sunlight shines On the rippling waves, that bright… Beneath the flowering vines. Awake! Awake! for the low, sweet…

Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow… Starting on your autumn flight, Pause a moment at my window, Twitter softly your good-night; For the summer days are over,

Mysterious death! who in a single… Life’s gold can so refine And by thy art divine Change mortal weakness to immortal… Bending beneath the weight of eigh…

‘Gingerbread, Go to the head. Your task is done; A soul is won. Take it and go

‘Healfast, healfast, ye hero wound… O knight, be quickly strong! Beloved strife For fame and life, Oh, tarry not too long!’

We are sending you, dear flowers Forth alone to die, Where your gentle sisters may not… O’er the cold graves where you lie… But you go to bring them fadeless…

‘A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air, And in my cage I sit and sing To Him who placed me there: Well pleased a prisoner to be,