| Twinkle, twinkle, little star; |
| How I wonder what you are! |
| Up above the world so high, |
| Like a diamond in the sky. |
| |
| When the glorious sun is set, |
| When the grass with dew is wet, |
| Then you show your little light, |
| Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. |
| |
| In the dark blue sky you keep, |
| And often through my curtains peep; |
| For you never shut your eye |
| Till the sun is in the sky. |
| |
| As your bright and tiny spark |
| Lights the traveler in the dark, |
| Though I know not what you are, |
| Twinkle, twinkle, little star. |
| |
| Jane Taylor. |
| Sunset and evening star, |
| And one clear call for me! |
| And may there be no moaning of the bar, |
| When I put out to sea, |
| |
| But such a tide as moving seems asleep, |
| Too full for sound and foam, |
| When that which drew from out the boundless deep |
| Turns again home. |
| |
| Twilight and evening bell, |
| And after that the dark! |
| And may there be no sadness of farewell, |
| When I embark; |
| |
| For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place |
| The flood may bear me far, |
| I hope to see my Pilot face to face |
| When I have crost the bar. |
| |
| Alfred, Lord Tennyson. |
| The Tree's early leaf buds were bursting their brown; |
| "Shall I take them away?" said the Frost, sweeping down. |
| "No, leave them alone |
| Till the blossoms have grown," |
| Prayed the Tree, while he trembled from rootlet to crown. |
| |
| The Tree bore his blossoms, and all the birds sung: |
| "Shall I take them away?" said the Wind, as he swung, |
| "No, leave them alone |
| Till the blossoms have grown," |
| Said the Tree, while his leaflets quivering hung. |
| |
| The Tree bore his fruit in the midsummer glow: |
| Said the child, "May I gather thy berries now?" |
| "Yes, all thou canst see: |
| Take them; all are for thee," |
| Said the Tree, while he bent down his laden boughs low. |
| |
| Bjorrstjerne Bjornson. |