Transcriber's Note:
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
JULIUS BIEN & CO. LITH.
Under
Blue
Skies.
Verses &
Pictures
By
S. J. Brigham
Worthington Co.
747 BWAY. N. Y.
UNDER BLUE SKIES.
(Frontispiece)
Under blue skies
Daffodils dance, and the Oriole flies,
Bright, golden butterflies float on the breeze
Over the clover with brown honey-bees;
Daisies and buttercups, slender and tall,
Nod to the roses that cover the wall,
Under blue skies.
Under blue skies,
Every day brings us a sweeter surprise,
Blooming of flowers and singing of birds,
Words without song, and song without words;
A world of bright children, all happy and gay,
In sunshine and shadow, at work and at play.
Copyright, 1886, by S. J. Brigham, N. Y.
Contents.
[SILENT VOICES. II. BLUE-EYED GRASS.]
[SILENT VOICES. III. CLOSING FLOWERS.]
LITTLE NEIGHBORS.
Birds a-singing in the trees,
Marigolds a-blowing;
Bees a-humming what they please,
Coming and a-going;
Hiding in the hollyhocks,
Swinging on the clover,
Climbing up the Lily-stalks,
Honey running over.
Breath of roses in the air,
Roses are in hiding;
Breezes will not tell us where,—
Winds are not confiding;
Down the walks the children wind,
Through the fence a-peeping;
Like the bees and birds they find
Treasures for the seeking.
Little neighbors, like the birds,
Sing and talk at pleasure;
Like the bees, with honeyed words,
Choose their time and measure;
Like sweet peas they cling and climb,
Here and there and yonder;
All the pleasant summer-time
They visit and they wander.
STUDY-HOUR.
O hush! you Robin, you sing and swing
In the lilac tree,
And my lessons seem long when I hear your song
So happy and free.
If only the hours had wings, I know
They would flutter away,
Like the bird on the tree, or the velvet bee,
Or the butterfly gay.
But then I know that a maid like me
Has a life to live,
And my heart and my mind has something to find
Before it can give.
O rest you, Robin, a little while
Your voice and your wing!
And then by-and-by dear Robin and I
Will both sing and swing.
THE LETTER.
"O, wait, little maiden,
With hand letter-laden!
I'll take it one minute,
And please tell me who
You have written it to,
And all that is in it."
"Ah, no!" said the maiden,
"With love it is laden,
No stranger can take it:
I will just tell you this,
It is sealed with a kiss,
And Mamma will break it."
DAFFY DIL
AND
JONNY QUIL.
Said Jonny Quil
to Daffy Dil,
His pretty country cousin:
"Now is our chance
to have a dance,
Your sisters, full a dozen,
Are here in golden
cap and frill;
What say you,
Cousin Daffy Dil?"
Said Daffy Dil
to Jonny Quil,
"To dance would give
us pleasure;
But, then, you know,
the wind must blow,
To beat our time
and measure.
Young April Wind
will be here soon,
And he will whistle
us a tune."
CAMPING SONG.
O who would live in a cottage close,
Shut in like a captive bird?
I would sooner have a tent like mine,
Within the shade of a fragrant pine,
Where the breaking waves are heard,—
Are heard,
The breaking waves are heard.
The song of winds in the sweet pine tree,
The waters that kiss the shore,
The white-winged sea-bird's mellow cry,
Mingled in one sweet melody,
Steals softly in at my door,—
My door,
Steals in at my open door.
All day I sing and read and sew,
Beneath this sheltering pine,
Kissed by cool breezes from the sea,
And people passing envy me,
And wish for a tent like mine,—
Like mine,
For a cosy tent like mine.
THE FAMILY DRIVE.
"Heigh, ho!"
Like the wind we go,
For a family drive to Jericho;
The horses dance
And prink and prance,
But who is afraid of the horses, O?
"Heigh, ho!"
O, the daisies grow
Along the wayside to Jericho;
But the horses run
And spoil our fun,
And we cannot pick us a daisy, O.
"Whoa! whoa!!"
Won't you please go slow?
We are going home from Jericho;
All danger past,
We are home at last,
Without a tip or a tumble, O.
SILENT VOICES.
I.
DAISIES.
Hosts of little daisies white
Stand among the grasses,
Greeting with a girlish grace
Every breeze that passes.
Quaint white caps and golden hair,
Tresses green and slender;
With my heart I heard them say
Something very tender—
Saying something to the grass,
Very sweet and tender.
SILENT VOICES.
II.
BLUE-EYED GRASS.
Hush—O hush! you wanton winds,
Hush you, while I listen!
In the blue eyes of the grass
Tear-drops seem to glisten.
A shy Daisy leaned that way,
When the winds were blowing;
With my heart I heard him say
Something worth the knowing—
Fondly, to the Daisy say,
Something worth the knowing.
SILENT VOICES.
III.
CLOSING FLOWERS.
When the sun, in red and gold,
Down the West was creeping;
When the bird beneath its wing
Tucked its head for sleeping,
Silently the silken doors
Of the flowers were closing;
Poppies each, with drooping head,
Slowly fell a-dozing.
With my heart, I heard them say,
"Good-night till the morrow:
Here's good-night to all the world
Till the happy morrow."
DANDELION.
Modest little Dandelion,
Standing in the grass,
Offering her plate of gold
To people as they pass.
If you slight her, soon her tresses
Will be growing gray,
And some antic, frantic wind
Will blow them all away!
SWEET GRASS.
The sweet grass grows
Where the Daisy blows,
But how sweet grass with its tender grace..
And the Daisy with its winsome face,
Came to live in the same sweet place,
Nobody knows.
The sweet grass grows
Where the Daisy blows,
And under the shade of the tender grass
The children saw some crickets pass;
But why they were all in black, alas!
Nobody knows.
The sweet grass grows
Where the Daisy blows;
The children pulled till their hands were red;
The grasshoppers shook with fear and fled;
But what Sweet Grass to the Daisy said,
Nobody knows.
THE MULLEIN PATCH.
O Mullein, whisper in my ear
And tell me how you grow,
I was the taller of the two
But one short week ago,
And now, as I on tiptoe stand,
Can scarcely reach you with my hand.
You're growing very lovely, too,
In your pale-green velvet gown;
And golden as a daffodil
Are the flowers in your crown.
So tall and stately! Is it true
That all your neighbors envy you?
The Thistle flushed as the maiden spoke,
And thrust out every thorn;
The Wormwood very bitter grew;
And tossed her head in scorn;
The Teazle and the Burdock tried
To pull the maiden's dress aside.
The Mullein kept the secret well,
And the maiden never knew
That she the only object was
Of envy. And 'tis true
That when she left and said Good-bye!
For sadness they made no reply.
"TOSSED UP IN A BLANKET."
Toss away, toss away,
Low away, high,
Up in a blanket
To visit the sky;
Lightly she'll swing
In the silver moon,
And bring to her sisters
A star pretty soon.
Toss away, toss away,
High away, low,
Rock her to sleep
In the silver bow;
Toss up a kiss to
The man in the moon,
And bring back another
To us very soon.
THE SAND-MAN.
Have you ever seen the sand-man, old,
Who comes to us every one, I'm told,
With his countless bags of silver sand,
And drops it down with an unseen hand;
And our eyelids very heavy grow,
As off to the land of dreams we go?
He is very shy. I have often tried
To keep my eyelids open wide
And watch for him. But he cheats me so,
And puts me to sleep before I know.
Is he like the wind, do you suppose,
Which is never seen when it comes and goes?
Oh, ho! The sand-man's fun is past,
He has gone to sleep himself at last;
We'll build a fort beside the sea,
And he our prisoner shall be.
He is not the wind with an unseen hand,
But a giant made of silver sand.
THE
LILY
POND.
The wind is fair,
Shall we take a row,
Down to the cove
Where the lilies grow?
Their petals white
To the sun unfold,
Their trembling hearts
Are yellow as gold.
My boat is as safe
As a boat can be;
You need not fear
To go with me.
A fleet of lilies,
So fresh and fair,
Like fairy ships,
Are anchored there.
They rock and dip
With every breeze,
Like real ships
On real seas.
My boat is as safe
As a boat can be;
You need not fear
To go with me.
LUNCH TIME.
The Bees are coming,
I hear them humming
Their pleasant Summer song.
You are late to-day;
Did you lose your way?
We have been waiting long.
My cream-white Clover
Is running over
With honey clear and sweet;
And my Brier-Rose,
As a bee well knows,
Holds something nice to eat.
Come, take your honey,
It costs no money,
The little gift is free;
Come every noon
Through merry June,
And take your lunch with me.
"WHIRL THE BOAT."
Whirl, whirl,
Each little girl,
Like a gay butterfly over the grass;
Light as a feather,
Whirl they together,
Scaring the little brown birds as they pass.
Spin, spin,
See them begin,
Like two tops gliding over the ground;
Light as a feather,
Spin they together,
Whirling the boat around and around.
KINDERGARTEN.
This is my class,
I am teacher, you see;
They stand in a row
And listen to me;
And never once
Have I seen them try
To whisper or laugh—
They are very shy.
I sometimes fear
They will never do
The nice little games
When I ask them to:
To keep good time,
To march and to sing,
And to whirl about
In a pretty ring.
But, then, I know
They will always do
Whatever they can
When I ask them to.
THE ORIOLE'S NEST.
Swing, little hammock, swing high and swing low!
Birdies are sleeping while soft breezes blow;
Papa-bird fastened it well on the bough,
No harm can come to the baby-birds now.
Mother-bird comes with sweet food to the nest.
All the bright feathers aflame on her breast;
Swing, little birdies, be happy to-day,
Soon, I suppose, you will all fly away.
Rock, little hammock, the birdies to sleep,
Then I'll give Dolly a sly little peep;
She will not touch them, the dear little things,
With down on their heads and down on their wings.
Very soon, Dolly, their feathers will grow,
And out of their cradle the birdies will go;
High away, low away, out of our sight,
Off to the wood in a family flight!
THE JUNE-BUG.
"Buzz, buzz, blundering bug,
Why do you come in June?
The roses are here,
And I greatly fear
You will put them out of tune.
"Buzz, buzz, blundering bug,
Why do you come at night,
With your big black wings?
We are timid things—
You will put us both in a fright."
CHOCOLATE DROP.
There lived beside a certain sea
A humpy, dumpy, brown ba-bee,
Whose length and breadth were just the same,
And what is more, this ba-bee's name
Was Chocolate Drop.
This humpy, dumpy, brown ba-bee
Had a Mamma as brown as she,
Who thought no ba-bee, dark or light,
Was ever half so sweet and bright
As Chocolate Drop.
They say (as strange as it may seem)
That she was made of country cream,
And rolled in something brown and sweet,
Which made this ba-bee so complete
A Chocolate Drop.
Out on the end of an apple-tree bough
A birdie was singing a song just now,
And when it was ended
The birdie pretended
To say Good-bye,
but he did not
know how!
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
- Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors.
- Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.