Queen of my tub, I merrily sing, While the white foam raises high, And sturdily wash, and rinse, and… And fasten the clothes to dry; Then out in the free fresh air the…

GLEAMING through the silent ch… Winter sunlight seemed to shed Golden shadows like soft blessings O’er a quiet little bed, Where a pale face lay unheeding

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…

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

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…

O lesson well and wisely taught Stay with me to the last, That all my life may better be For the trial that is past. O vanity, mislead no more!

We mourn the loss of our little pe… And sigh o’er her hapless fate, For never more by the fire she’ll… Nor play by the old green gate. The little grave where her infant…

‘For myself alone, I would not be Ambitious in my wish; but, for you… I would be trebled twenty times my… A thousand times more fair, Ten thousand times more rich.’

‘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,

‘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,

From our happy home Through the world we roam One week in all the year, Making winter spring With the joy we bring

I am the monarch of the Sea, The ruler of the Queen’s Navee,— When at anchor here I ride, My bosom swells with pride, And I snap my fingers at a foeman…

‘In China there lived a little ma… His name was Chingery Wangery Ch… ‘His legs were short, his feet wer… And this little man could not walk… ‘Chingery changery ri co day,

We sighing said, “Our Pan is dead… His pipe hangs mute beside the riv… Around it wistful sunbeams quiver, But Music’s airy voice is fled. Spring mourns as for untimely fros…