It said, in low and trembling tones and with a modest grace,
“Dear God, the name Thou gavest me, alas, I have forgot.”
The Father kindly looked Him down and said, “Forget-me-not.”
WHO STOLE THE BIRD’S NEST
“To-whit! To-whit! To-whee!
Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made?”
“Not I,” said the cow, “moo-oo!
Such a thing I’d never do.
I gave you a wisp of hay,
But I did not take your nest away:
Not I,” said the cow, “moo-oo!
Such a thing I’d never do.”
“Bob-o-link! Bob-o-link!
Now, what do you think?
Who stole a nest away
From the plum tree to-day?”
“Not I,” said the dog, “bow-wow!
I wouldn’t be so mean, I vow.
I gave some hairs the nest to make,
But the nest I did not take.
Not I,” said the dog, “bow-wow!
I wouldn’t be so mean, I vow.”
“Coo-oo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo!
Let me speak a word or two:
Who stole that pretty nest,
From little Yellow-breast?”
“Not I,” said the sheep; “oh, no,
I would not treat a poor bird so;
I gave wool the nest to line,
But the nest was none of mine.
Baa! Baa!” said the sheep; “oh no;
I wouldn’t treat a poor bird so.”
“Caw! Caw!” cried the crow,
“I should like to know
What thief took away
A bird’s nest to-day.”
“Cluck! Cluck!” said the hen,
“Don’t ask me again;
Why, I haven’t a chick
Would do such a trick.
We all gave her a feather,
And she wove them together.
I’d scorn to intrude
On her and her brood.
Cluck! Cluck!” said the hen,
“Don’t ask me again.”
“Chirr-a-whirr! Chirr-a-whirr!
All the birds make a stir.
Let us find out his name,
And all cry, ‘For shame!’”
“I would not rob a bird!”
Said little Mary Green,
“I think I never heard
Of anything so mean!”
“It’s very cruel, too,”
Said little Alice Neal,
“I wonder if he knew
How sad the bird would feel.”
A little boy hung down his head,
And went and hid behind the bed:
For he stole that pretty nest
From little Yellow-Breast;
And he felt so full of shame
He did not like to tell his name.
TWO LITTLE HANDS
Two little hands so soft and white,
This is the left—this is the right.
Five little fingers stand on each,
So I can hold a plum or a peach.
But if I should grow as old as you
Lots of little things these hands can do.
THE DANDELION
O dandelion yellow as gold,
What do you do all day?
I just wait here in the tall green grass
Till the children come to play.
O dandelion yellow as gold,
What do you do all night?
I wait and wait till the cool dews fall
And my hair grows long and white.
And what do you do when your hair is white
And the children come to play?
They take me up in their dimpled hands
And blow my hair away.
A MILLION LITTLE DIAMONDS
A million little diamonds
Twinkled on the trees;
And all the little maidens said,
“A jewel, if you please!”
But while they held their hands outstretched
To catch the diamonds gay,
A million little sunbeams came
And stole them all away.
DAISY NURSES
The daisies white are nursery maids with frills upon their caps;
And daisy buds are little babes they tend upon their laps.
Sing “Heigh-ho!” while the winds sweep low,
Both nurses and babies are nodding JUST SO.
The daisy babies never cry, the nurses never scold;
They never crush the dainty frills about their cheeks of gold;
But pure and white, in gay sunlight
They’re nid-nodding—pretty sight.
The daisies love the golden sun, upon the clear blue sky,
He gazes kindly down on them and winks his jolly eye;
While soft and low, all in a row,
Both nurses and babies are nodding JUST SO.
DANDELIONS
There surely is a gold mine somewhere underneath the grass,
For dandelions are popping out in every place you pass.
But if you want to gather some you’d better not delay,
For the gold will turn to silver soon and all will blow away.
AT LITTLE VIRGIL’S WINDOW
There are three green eggs in a small brown pocket,
And the breeze will swing and the gale will rock it,
Till three little birds on the thin edge teeter,
And