JACK FROST

The Frost looked forth, one still, clear night,
And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight;
So through the valley and over the height,
In silence I'll take my way:

I will not go on with that blustering train,
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
Who make so much bustle and noise in vain,
But I'll be as busy as they."

Then he flew to the mountain and powdered its crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed
In diamond beads-and over the breast

Of the quivering lake he spread

A coat of mail, that it need not fear
The downward point of many a spear
That hung on its margin far and near,

Where a rock could rear its head.

He went to the windows of those who slept,
And over each pane, like a fairy, crept;
Wherever he breathed, wherever he slept,

By the light of the moon were seen

Most beautiful things-there were flowers and trees;
There were bèvies of birds and swarms of bees;
There were cities with temples and towers, and these
All pictured in silver sheen!

But he did one thing that was hardly fair;
He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there
That all had forgotten for him to prepare―
"Now just to set them a-thinking,
I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he,
"This costly pitcher I'll burst in three,
And the glass of water they've left for me

Shall 'tchich to tell them I'm drinking."

Hannah Flagg Gould

THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES

See the Kitten on the wall

Sporting with the leaves that fall,
Whithered leaves-one-two-and three-
From the lofty elder tree!

Through the calm and frosty air
Of this morning bright and fair,
Eddying round and round they sink
Softly, slowly: one might think
From the motions that are made,
Every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or Fairy hither tending,
To this lower world descending,
Each invisible and mute,
In his wavering parachute.
-But the Kitten how she starts,
Crouches, stretches, paws and darts,
First at one, and then its fellow,
Just as light and just as yellow;
There are many now-now one-
Now they stop and there are none:
What intenseness of desire

In her upward eye of fire!
With a tiger-leap half-way

Now she meets the coming prey,
Lets it go as fast, and then

Has it in her power again:

Now she works with three or four,

Like an Indian conjuror;

Quick as he in feats of art,

Far beyond in joy of heart.

Were her antics played in the eye

Of a thousand standers-by,

Clapping hands with shouts and stare,

What would little Tabby care

For the plaudits of the crowd?

Over happy to be proud,

Over wealthy in the treasure

Of her own exceeding pleasure!

William Wordsworth

MARJORIE'S ALMANAC

Robins in the tree-top
Blossoms in the grass,
Green things a-growing
Everywhere you pass;
Sudden little breezes,
Showers of silver dew,
Black bough and bent twig
Budding out anew;
Pine-tree and willow-tree,

Fringed elm and larch.-
Don't you think that May-time's
Pleasanter than March?

Apples in the orchard
Mellowing one by one;
Strawberries upturning
Soft cheeks to the sun;
Roses faint with sweetness,
Lilies fair of face,

Drowsy scents and murmurs
Haunting every place;
Lengths of golden sunshine,
Moonlight bright as day,-
Don't you think that summer's
Pleasanter than May?

Roger in the corn-patch

Whistling negro-songs;
Pussy by the hearth-side
Romping with the tongs;
Chestnuts in the ashes

Bursting through the rind;
Red leaf and gold leaf
Rusting down the wind;
Mother "doin' peaches"
All the afternoon,-

Don't you think that autumn's
Pleasanter than June?

Little fairy snow-flakes
Dancing in the flue;
Old Mr. Santa Claus,
What is keeping you?
Twilight and firelight

Shadows come and go;
Merry chime of sleigh-bells

Twinkling through the snow;

Mother knitting stockings
(Pussy's got the ball),-

Don't you think that winter's
Pleasanter than all?

Thomas Bailey Aldrich

WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe-

Sailed on a river of crystal light,

Into a sea of dew.

"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.

"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;

Nets of silver and gold have we!"

Said Wynken,

Blynken,

And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.

The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea-

"Now cast your nets wherever you wish-
Never afeard are we;"

So cried the stars to the fishermen three:

Wynken,

Blynken,

And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw

To the stars in the twinkling foam

Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,

Bringing the fishermen home;

"Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed

As if it could not be,

And some folks thought 't was a dream they dreamed

Of sailing that beautiful sea

But I shall name you the fishermen three :

Wynken,

Blynken,

And Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,

And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.

So shut your eyes while mother sings

Of wonderful sights that be,

And you shall see the beautiful things

As you rock in the misty sea,

Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three :

Wynken,

Blynken,
And Nod.

Eugene Field

Fourth Grade

THE BLUEBIRD

I know the song that the bluebird is singing,
Out in the apple-tree where he is swinging.
Brave little fellow! the skies may be dreary,
Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery.

Hark! how the music leaps out from his throat!
Hark! was there ever so merry a note?
Listen awhile, and you'll hear what he's saying,
Up in the apple-tree, swinging and swaying:

"Dear little blossoms, down under the snow,
You must be weary of winter, I know;
Hark! while I sing you a message of cheer,
Summer is coming and spring-time is here!

"Little white snowdrop, I pray you arise;
Bright yellow crocus, come, open your eyes;
Sweet little violets hid from the cold,
Put on your mantles of purple and gold;
Daffodils, daffodils! say, do you hear?
Summer is coming, and spring-time is here!"

Mrs. Emily Huntington Miller

A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD

They say that God lives very high,
But if you look above the pines
You cannot see our God; and why?

And if you dig down in the mines,
You never see him in the gold;
Though from him all that's glory shines.

God is so good, he wears a fold

Of heaven and earth across his face-
Like secrets kept, for love, untold.

But still I feel that his embrace

Slides down by thrills, through all things made,
Through sight and sound of every place;

As if my tender mother laid

On my shut lids her kisses' pressure,

Half-waking me at night, and said,

"Who kissed you in the dark, dear guesser?"

Elizabeth Barrett Browning