| The little cares that fretted me, |
| I lost them yesterday |
| Among the fields above the seas, |
| Among the winds at play; |
| Among the lowing of the herds, |
| The rustling of the trees, |
| Among the singing of the birds, |
| The humming of the bees. |
| |
| The foolish fears of what might happen,— |
| I cast them all away |
| Among the clover-scented grass, |
| Among the new-mown hay; |
| Among the husking of the corn, |
| Where drowsy poppies nod, |
| Where ill thoughts die and good are born, |
| Out in the fields with God. |
| |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning. |
| I know the song that the bluebird is singing, |
| Out in the apple tree where he is swinging. |
| Brave little fellow! the skies may be dreary— |
| Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery. |
| |
| Hark! how the music leaps out from his throat! |
| Hark! was there ever so merry a note? |
| Listen a while, and you'll hear what he's saying, |
| Up in the apple tree swinging and swaying. |
| |
| "Dear little blossoms down under the snow, |
| You must be weary of winter I know. |
| Listen, I'll sing you a message of cheer! |
| Summer is coming! and springtime is here! |
| |
| "Little white snowdrop! I pray you arise; |
| Bright yellow crocus! please open your eyes; |
| Sweet little violets, hid from the cold, |
| Put on your mantles of purple and gold; |
| Daffodils! Daffodils! say, do you hear?— |
| Summer is coming, and springtime is here!" |
| |
| Emily Huntington Miller. |
| Old Ironsides at anchor lay, |
| In the harbor of Mahon; |
| A dead calm rested on the bay,— |
| The waves to sleep had gone; |
| When little Hal, the Captain's son, |
| A lad both brave and good, |
| In sport, up shroud and rigging ran, |
| And on the main truck stood! |
| |
| A shudder shot through every vein,— |
| All eyes were turned on high! |
| There stood the boy, with dizzy brain, |
| Between the sea and sky; |
| No hold had he above, below; |
| Alone he stood in air: |
| To that far height none dared to go,— |
| No aid could reach him there. |
| |
| We gazed, but not a man could speak,— |
| With horror all aghast,— |
| In groups, with pallid brow and cheek,— |
| We watched the quivering mast. |
| The atmosphere grew thick and hot, |
| And of a lurid hue;— |
| As riveted unto the spot, |
| Stood officers and crew. |
| |
| The father came on deck:—he gasped, |
| "Oh, God; thy will be done!" |
| Then suddenly a rifle grasped, |
| And aimed it at his son. |
| "Jump, far out, boy, into the wave! |
| Jump, or I fire," he said; |
| "That only chance your life can save; |
| Jump, jump, boy!" He obeyed. |
| |
| He sunk,—he rose,—he lived,—he moved,— |
| And for the ship struck out. |
| On board we hailed the lad beloved, |
| With many a manly shout. |
| His father drew, in silent joy, |
| Those wet arms round his neck, |
| And folded to his heart his boy,— |
| Then fainted on the deck. |
| |
| Morris. |