Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages

by Unknown

Still holding in his claw a stony clod,

Whose fall may wake him if he hap to nod.

Another doth as much, a third, a fourth,

Untill, by turns the night be turnèd forth."

So also, according to travellers, talk, argue in parliament, camp, and keep watch the wandering tribes of the gaudy-dyed Baboons.

[249].

If this poem is read softly, pausingly, without haste, the very words will seem like snowflakes themselves, floating into the mind; and then, the beauty and the wonder.

[251]

Here again, as in music, there are rests in the second, fourth and fifth lines of each stanza. Is there any magic to compare with that still solemn unearthly radiance when the world is masked with snow; and the very sparkling of the mind is like hoar-frost on the bark of a tree.