| THE FIELD DAISY |
I'm a pretty little thing, Always coming with the spring. In the meadows green I'm found, Peeping just above the ground; And my stalk is covered flat With a white and yellow hat. Little Mary, when you pass Lightly o'er the tender grass, Skip about, but do not tread On my bright but lowly head; For I always seem to say, "Surely winter's gone away." |
| --Jane Taylor. |
| THE LITTLE CHILD |
I'm a very little child, Only just have learned to speak; So I should be very mild, Very tractable and meek. If my dear mamma were gone, Oh, I think that I should die, When she left me all alone, Such a little thing as I. Now what service can I do, To repay her for her care? For I cannot even sew, Nor make anything I wear. Well, then, I will always try To be very good and mild; Never now be cross or cry, Like a fretful little child. How unkind it is to fret, And my dear mamma to tease, When my lesson I should get, Sitting still upon her knees! Oh, how can I serve her so, Such a good mamma as this? Round her neck my arms I'll throw, And her gentle cheek I'll kiss. Then I'll tell her that I will Try not any more to fret her, And as I grow older still, Try to show I love her better. |
| --Jane Taylor. |
THE "GRANDUCA MADONNA"
By Raphael
"Around the mighty master came The marvels which his pencil wrought, Those miracles of power, whose fame Is wide as human thought. "There drooped thy more than mortal face, O Mother, beautiful and mild! Enfolding in one dear embrace Thy Saviour and thy Child!" |
| --John Greenleaf Whittier |
