THE PUSSY WILLOWS.
The Pussy Willows, far and near,
Give warning when the spring is here;
And every little child I know
Can tell where Pussy Willows grow.
While winter snows are whirling ’round
No Pussy Willows can be found;
But, dreaming in their beds, they hear
The first awakening of the year.
Then soon through frosty windows peep
The downy Pussies, roused from sleep.
“The spring is here!” they softly purr—
And out they pop to welcome her.
—Sara Tawney Lefferts.
The Babes in the Wood.
My dear, do you know,
How a long time ago,
Two poor little children,
Whose names I don’t know,
Were stolen away,
On a fine summer’s day,
And left in the wood,
As I’ve heard people say.
And when it was night,
So sad was their plight,
The sun it went down,
And the moon gave no light!
They sobbed, and they sighed
And they bitterly cried,
And the poor little things,
They lay down and died.
And when they were dead,
The Robins so red
Brought strawberry leaves,
And over them spread;
And all the day long,
They sung them this song:
“Poor babes in the wood! poor babes in the wood!
And don’t you remember the babes in the wood?”