“Son,” said my mother, When I was knee-high, “You’ve need of clothes to cover you, And not a rag have I. “There’s nothing in the house To make a boy breeches,Nor shears to cut a cloth ... [+]
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices over those things that interest them. But we who are wiser shut ourselves in on either hand and no one knows whethe ... [+]
Four little chests all in a row, Dim with dust and worn by time, All fashioned and filled long ago By children now in their prime. Four little keys hung side by side, With faded ribbons, brave ... [+]
In Flanders fields the poppies grow Between the crosses, row on row That mark our place: and in the sky The larks still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short ... [+]
Over the river, and through the wood,To Grandfather’s house we go;the horse knows the way to carry the sleighthrough the white and drifted snow. Over the river, and through the wood,to ... [+]
I spot the hillsWith yellow balls in autumn.I light the prairie cornfieldsOrange and tawny gold clustersAnd I am called pumpkins.On the last of OctoberWhen dusk is fallenChildren join handsAnd circle ... [+]
A little peach in the orchard grew,A little peach of emerald hue;Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew,It grew. One day, passing that orchard through,That little peach dawned on the viewOf Johnny ... [+]
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one nightSailed off in a wooden shoe,—Sailed on a river of crystal lightInto a sea of dew.“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”The old moon asked the three.“We ... [+]
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;And I see him jump before me, when I ... [+]
In winter I get up at nightAnd dress by yellow candle-light.In summer, quite the other way,I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and seeThe birds still hopping on the tree,Or hear the ... [+]
The world is too much with us; late and soon,Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—Little we see in Nature that is ours;We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!This Sea that bares he ... [+]
Five years have past; five summers, with the length Of five long winters! and again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs With a soft inland murmur.—Once again Do I behold these ... [+]