SIXTH READER ON A BICYCLE HENRY CHARLES BEECHING With lifted feet, hands still, Swifter and yet more swift, Speed slackens now, I float Till, when the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall. Alas, that the longest hill Must end in a vale; but still, Who climbs with toil, wheresoe'er, Shall find wings waiting there. I A SONG FROM THE SUDS LOUISA MAY ALCOTT Queen of my tub, I merrily sing, And sturdily wash and rinse and wring, Then out in the free fresh air they swing, I am glad a task to me is given, To labor at day by day; For it brings me health and strength and hope, And I cheerfully learn to say, "Head, you may think, Heart, you may feel, But, Hand, you shall work alway!" GOING A-NUTTING EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN No clouds are in the morning sky, The sumac spreads its gleam; At every turn the maples burn, The quail is whistling free, The partridge whirs, and the frosted burs Are dropping for you and me. Ho! Hilly ho! heigh O! In the clear October morning. |