Songs of Life
(fl ies)sk iesbranch esriv er(l ove)ab ove
Down from the hillside,Sparkling and bright,Rushes the little brook,In the sunlight.On through the meadow,Where the flowers hide,With skies bright above it,Now its waters glide.Tall trees beside the brook,Their branches o’er it throw,As through the quiet woodland,The sparkling waters flow.So it hurries down the hillside,And across the meadow sweet,And through the shady woodland,Till the river it shall meet.
Down from the hillside,Sparkling and bright,Rushes the little brook,In the sunlight.On through the meadow,Where the flowers hide,With skies bright above it,Now its waters glide.Tall trees beside the brook,Their branches o’er it throw,As through the quiet woodland,The sparkling waters flow.So it hurries down the hillside,And across the meadow sweet,And through the shady woodland,Till the river it shall meet.
Down from the hillside,Sparkling and bright,Rushes the little brook,In the sunlight.
Down from the hillside,
Sparkling and bright,
Rushes the little brook,
In the sunlight.
On through the meadow,Where the flowers hide,With skies bright above it,Now its waters glide.
On through the meadow,
Where the flowers hide,
With skies bright above it,
Now its waters glide.
Tall trees beside the brook,Their branches o’er it throw,As through the quiet woodland,The sparkling waters flow.
Tall trees beside the brook,
Their branches o’er it throw,
As through the quiet woodland,
The sparkling waters flow.
So it hurries down the hillside,And across the meadow sweet,And through the shady woodland,Till the river it shall meet.
So it hurries down the hillside,
And across the meadow sweet,
And through the shady woodland,
Till the river it shall meet.
(l ift)sw iftly(th is)wh is per(gr ass)p assmur murstalk(spl ash)d ashfl ashash
See the little brook rushing down the steep hillside!
How it hurries!
How it leaps over the falls!
Hear it dash and splash among the rocks!
See its waters flash and sparkle in the sun!
“Stop, stop, little brook! Wait, I want to talk with you.â€
“No, no, I must hurry on. I have a long way to go.â€
“I will go with you, then. I will run along your banks. Please do not hurry so. I can hardly keep up with you.â€
Now we come to the wide meadow.
Here the little brook flows more slowly and quietly.
But it never stops.
It must flow ever on and on.
Bright flowers are hiding along its banks.
They peep out from the grass.
They look into the clear flowing water.
“Stay, little brook, play with us,†they whisper.
“Why do you always hurry so? Are you not weary?â€
“No, no, I am never weary, never tired,†murmurs the brook.
“I never stop to play.
It is play for me to rush swiftly down the steep hill.
It is fun to flow gently across the meadow.
I like to see you peeping over my banks as I pass.
But I cannot stop.
I must hurry on to meet the river.
Good-by, sweet flowers, good-by.â€
Now the brook glides into the woodland.
Here the sad willows droop over the gliding waters.
High above them tower the oak, the ash, and the pine trees.
“Do not hurry, little brook,†whisper their leaves.
“Are you not tired?
You have come a long way.
Here the bright sun never comes.
Stay with us, and we will shade you.
Rest a while under our spreading branches.
In the meadow the burning sun is so hot.
But here it is cool.
Why can you not stay with us?
Why must you always hurry on?â€
“Because I have to meet the river.
I love your wide spreading branches.
I love the gentle murmur of your green leaves.
I love your cool shade.
You are very kind to me.
But I cannot stay with you.
The great river needs me.
I shall have to hurry on.
Good-by, noble trees.
Good-by, drooping willows.â€
So the never resting brook rushes, and glides and flows on forever.
mos sydon’t
Dear little Violet,Don’t be afraid!Lift your blue eyesFrom the rock’s mossy shade.All the birds call for youOut of the sky;May is here waiting,And here, too, am I.Come, pretty Violet,Winter’s away;Come, for without youMay isn’t May.Down through the sunshineWings flutter and fly;Quick, little Violet,Open your eye!—Lucy Larcom.
Dear little Violet,Don’t be afraid!Lift your blue eyesFrom the rock’s mossy shade.All the birds call for youOut of the sky;May is here waiting,And here, too, am I.Come, pretty Violet,Winter’s away;Come, for without youMay isn’t May.Down through the sunshineWings flutter and fly;Quick, little Violet,Open your eye!—Lucy Larcom.
Dear little Violet,Don’t be afraid!Lift your blue eyesFrom the rock’s mossy shade.All the birds call for youOut of the sky;May is here waiting,And here, too, am I.
Dear little Violet,
Don’t be afraid!
Lift your blue eyes
From the rock’s mossy shade.
All the birds call for you
Out of the sky;
May is here waiting,
And here, too, am I.
Come, pretty Violet,Winter’s away;Come, for without youMay isn’t May.Down through the sunshineWings flutter and fly;Quick, little Violet,Open your eye!
Come, pretty Violet,
Winter’s away;
Come, for without you
May isn’t May.
Down through the sunshine
Wings flutter and fly;
Quick, little Violet,
Open your eye!
—Lucy Larcom.
—Lucy Larcom.
(m oss y)t oss esheightup ward(w hen)w hen ce(sh all)v all ey(c oats)g oatstrav ersewhith er
Which way does the wind blow,And where does he go?He rides o’er the waterAnd over the snow;O’er wood and o’er valley,And over the height—Where goats cannot traverseHe taketh his flight.He rages and tosses,And bare is the tree,As when you look upwardYou plainly can see;But from whence he comes,Or whither he goes,There is no one can tell you,There is no one who knows.—Mary Lamb.
Which way does the wind blow,And where does he go?He rides o’er the waterAnd over the snow;O’er wood and o’er valley,And over the height—Where goats cannot traverseHe taketh his flight.He rages and tosses,And bare is the tree,As when you look upwardYou plainly can see;But from whence he comes,Or whither he goes,There is no one can tell you,There is no one who knows.—Mary Lamb.
Which way does the wind blow,And where does he go?He rides o’er the waterAnd over the snow;O’er wood and o’er valley,And over the height—Where goats cannot traverseHe taketh his flight.
Which way does the wind blow,
And where does he go?
He rides o’er the water
And over the snow;
O’er wood and o’er valley,
And over the height—
Where goats cannot traverse
He taketh his flight.
He rages and tosses,And bare is the tree,As when you look upwardYou plainly can see;But from whence he comes,Or whither he goes,There is no one can tell you,There is no one who knows.
He rages and tosses,
And bare is the tree,
As when you look upward
You plainly can see;
But from whence he comes,
Or whither he goes,
There is no one can tell you,
There is no one who knows.
—Mary Lamb.
—Mary Lamb.
nei thertrem bling(h ow)b ow
Who has seen the wind?Neither I nor you;But when the leaves hang trembling,The Wind is passing through.Who has seen the wind?Neither you nor I;But when the trees bow down their heads,The Wind is passing by.
Who has seen the wind?Neither I nor you;But when the leaves hang trembling,The Wind is passing through.Who has seen the wind?Neither you nor I;But when the trees bow down their heads,The Wind is passing by.
Who has seen the wind?Neither I nor you;But when the leaves hang trembling,The Wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you;
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The Wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?Neither you nor I;But when the trees bow down their heads,The Wind is passing by.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I;
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The Wind is passing by.
dif fer entyoungla diesskirts
I saw you toss the kites on highAnd blow the birds about the sky;And all around I heard you pass,Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!I saw the different things you did,But always you yourself you hid.I felt you push, I heard you call,I could not see yourself at all—O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!O you that are so strong and cold,O blower, are you young or old?Are you a beast of field and tree,Or just a stronger child than me?O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!—R. L. Stevenson
I saw you toss the kites on highAnd blow the birds about the sky;And all around I heard you pass,Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!I saw the different things you did,But always you yourself you hid.I felt you push, I heard you call,I could not see yourself at all—O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!O you that are so strong and cold,O blower, are you young or old?Are you a beast of field and tree,Or just a stronger child than me?O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!—R. L. Stevenson
I saw you toss the kites on highAnd blow the birds about the sky;And all around I heard you pass,Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did,But always you yourself you hid.I felt you push, I heard you call,I could not see yourself at all—O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,O blower, are you young or old?Are you a beast of field and tree,Or just a stronger child than me?O wind, a-blowing all day long,O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
—R. L. Stevenson
—R. L. Stevenson
jour ney(f ish)w ish edeight(l og)fr og sleaped(st ream)d ream ed
On the steep hillside grew a tall ash tree.
Right on the bank of the rushing brook it grew.
Its branches spread far out across the little stream.
Its leaves looked down into the flashing water.
There, when the sun shone brightly, they saw leaves looking up at them.
They called these “water leaves.â€
The little tree leaves wished to go to the water leaves.
Many of them had already fluttered down.
But one leaf, very young, could not let go her hold of the twig.
At last a raging wind tore away the little leaf.
Over and over she turned.
Down, down, down, she fell.
She was so afraid the wind would carry her away.
But the friendly stream leaped up the rocks to meet her.
It bore her away, swiftly but gently.
The little leaf was afraid. She was lonesome.
The dear little “water leaves†were nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t be afraid, little leaf,†murmured the kind brook.
“I will give you a fine ride.
And I’ll talk to you all the time.
I’ll tell you all about the things we pass.
Here we are, already in the meadow.
Now I don’t have to hurry.
See the pretty flowers peeping over my banks.
They all love me.
I give them cool water to drink.
Here we go past the old mossy log.
Just see the frogs on it!
They are all in a row.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, of them!
They love me, too.
When anything makes them afraid, they leap into me.
They hide in some of my deep pools.
Here is the shady woodland.
Now I glide more slowly.
Soon I shall meet the great river.
I will not carry you into it.
For there you would be afraid.
I will land you here with lots of other leaves.â€
And the stream pushed her gently upon the low bank of sand.
“Good-by,†he murmured; “good-by, little leaf.â€
And the little leaf lay quietly thinking.
How many different things she had seen!
She never dreamed there were so many things in the whole world.
west ernroll ingfa ther(p ea)s eabr ea the
Sweet and low, sweet and low,Wind of the western sea,Low, low, breathe and blow,Wind of the western sea!Over the rolling waters go,Come from the dying moon and blow,Blow him again to me;While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,Father will come to thee soon;Rest, rest, on mother’s breast,Father will come to thee soon;Father will come to his babe in the nest,Silver sails all out of the west,Under the silver moon;Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.—Tennyson.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,Wind of the western sea,Low, low, breathe and blow,Wind of the western sea!Over the rolling waters go,Come from the dying moon and blow,Blow him again to me;While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,Father will come to thee soon;Rest, rest, on mother’s breast,Father will come to thee soon;Father will come to his babe in the nest,Silver sails all out of the west,Under the silver moon;Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.—Tennyson.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,Wind of the western sea,Low, low, breathe and blow,Wind of the western sea!Over the rolling waters go,Come from the dying moon and blow,Blow him again to me;While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,Father will come to thee soon;Rest, rest, on mother’s breast,Father will come to thee soon;Father will come to his babe in the nest,Silver sails all out of the west,Under the silver moon;Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother’s breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west,
Under the silver moon;
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
—Tennyson.
—Tennyson.
(dr ess)gu essshep herd ess
Sleep, baby, sleep!Thy father watches his sheep;Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,And down comes a little dream on thee.Sleep, baby, sleep!Sleep, baby, sleep!The large stars are the sheep;The little stars are the lambs, I guess;The gentle moon is the shepherdess.Sleep, baby, sleep!—From the German.
Sleep, baby, sleep!Thy father watches his sheep;Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,And down comes a little dream on thee.Sleep, baby, sleep!Sleep, baby, sleep!The large stars are the sheep;The little stars are the lambs, I guess;The gentle moon is the shepherdess.Sleep, baby, sleep!—From the German.
Sleep, baby, sleep!Thy father watches his sheep;Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,And down comes a little dream on thee.Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Thy father watches his sheep;
Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,
And down comes a little dream on thee.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!The large stars are the sheep;The little stars are the lambs, I guess;The gentle moon is the shepherdess.Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
The large stars are the sheep;
The little stars are the lambs, I guess;
The gentle moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
—From the German.
—From the German.
(t alk)w alkdi a mond
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,How I wonder what you are,Up above the world so high,Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,How I wonder what you are,Up above the world so high,Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,How I wonder what you are,Up above the world so high,Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Do you know what daisies are?
Do you know what stars are?
I will tell you what I think.
At night we see the stars shining in the sky.
There are so very many of them, more than we can count.
I think the sky is a beautiful meadow.
And the stars are little white daisies growing in the sky meadow.
Sometimes the moon comes into the meadow.
She is a beautiful lady.
All night she walks among the flowers.
She gathers the little sky daisies.
In the morning we cannot see the stars.
Where are they?
In the meadow near our home are many bright-eyed daisies.
There are so very many of them, more than we can count.
How did they get there?
Where did they come from?
Daisies look like stars, you know.
So I think the lady moon threw them down from the sky.
rov ingpale
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?Over the sea.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?All that love me.Are you not tired with rolling, and neverResting to sleep?Why look so pale and so sad, as foreverWishing to weep?Ask me not this, little child, if you love me;You are too bold;I must obey my dear Father above me,And do as I’m told.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?Over the sea.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?All that love me.—Lord Houghton.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?Over the sea.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?All that love me.Are you not tired with rolling, and neverResting to sleep?Why look so pale and so sad, as foreverWishing to weep?Ask me not this, little child, if you love me;You are too bold;I must obey my dear Father above me,And do as I’m told.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?Over the sea.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?All that love me.—Lord Houghton.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?Over the sea.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?All that love me.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?
Over the sea.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?
All that love me.
Are you not tired with rolling, and neverResting to sleep?Why look so pale and so sad, as foreverWishing to weep?
Are you not tired with rolling, and never
Resting to sleep?
Why look so pale and so sad, as forever
Wishing to weep?
Ask me not this, little child, if you love me;You are too bold;I must obey my dear Father above me,And do as I’m told.
Ask me not this, little child, if you love me;
You are too bold;
I must obey my dear Father above me,
And do as I’m told.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?Over the sea.Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?All that love me.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?
Over the sea.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?
All that love me.
—Lord Houghton.
—Lord Houghton.