If in field or tree There might only be Such a warm, soft sleeping-place THE LAMB. WILLIAM BLAKE. LITTLE lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee, Gave thee life and bade thee feed By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? THE LITTLE ANGEL. ELIZABETH PRENTISS. RIGHT into our house one day He said not a word in answer, But smiled a beautiful smile; Then I said, "May I go home with you? Shall you go in a little while?" But Mamma said, "Dear little angel, So he staid and he staid, and we love him CHILD'S SONG. ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE. WHAT is gold worth, say, Hide or throw away, Hope about or fear? Golden on the mould Lie the dead leaves rolled Woods without a dove. Gold is worth but gold; A LITTLE BRAWL. TRANSLATION OF MARY HOWITT FROM THE SWEDISH OF F. BREMER. AT times a little brawl Injures not at all, If we only love each other still. Cloudy heaven clears Itself and bright appears, For such is Nature's will. The heart within its cage Is a bird in rage, Which doth madly strive to fly. Love and Truth can best Flatter it to rest, Flatter it to rest right speedily. LITTLE THINGS. ANONYMOUS. LITTLE drops of water, Thus the little minutes, Thus our little errors Lead the soul away Little deeds of kindness, MOTHER'S SONG. ANONYMOUS. DON'T grow old too fast, my sweet! Stay a little while In this pleasant baby-land, Sunned by mother's smile. Grasp not with thy dimpled hands Be not wistful, sweet blue eyes! Which through life shall watchful be Be not restless, little feet! For awhile be mine alone, FIRST FOOTSTEPS. ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE. A LITTLE way, more soft and sweet Eyes full of dawning day Look up for mother's eyes to meet Too blithe for song to say. |