THE SWING.
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside—
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
Robert Louis Stevenson.
THE KIND OLD OAK.
It was time for winter to come.
There was no green grass in the fields.
The birds were all in the South.
Under an old oak-tree, there were some sweet blue violets.
“Dear oak-tree,” said they.
“Winter will soon be here.
We are afraid of the cold.”
“Do not be afraid, pretty violets,” said the oak.
“Go to sleep, I will take care of you.”
So the violets went to sleep.
The kind old tree dropped a red leaf upon them.
Then leaf after leaf dropped down.
Soon the violets were all covered over.
Winter came but they were not afraid.
They were fast asleep under the leaves of the kind old oak.
