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قراءة كتاب Stray Pebbles from the Shores of Thought
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 6
href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@44973@[email protected]#FNanchor_A" class="fnanchor pginternal" id="Footnote_A" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">A "Fairfields" is but another name for "Porter Manse."
BLOSSOM-TIME.
Blossoms floating through the air,
Bearing perfumes rich and rare,
Free from trouble, toil, and care.
Would I were a blossom!
Bearing perfumes rich and rare,
Free from trouble, toil, and care.
Would I were a blossom!
Robins singing in the trees,
Feeling every velvet breeze,
Free from knowledge that bereaves.
Would I were a robin!
Feeling every velvet breeze,
Free from knowledge that bereaves.
Would I were a robin!
Violets peaceful in the vale,
Telling each its happy tale,
Free from worldly noise and sale.
Would I were a violet!
Telling each its happy tale,
Free from worldly noise and sale.
Would I were a violet!
Then like blossoms I shall be,
Wafting only purity,
Or like robins, singing free
'Midst the deepening mystery,
Or like violets, caring naught
Only to reflect God's thought."
Wafting only purity,
Or like robins, singing free
'Midst the deepening mystery,
Or like violets, caring naught
Only to reflect God's thought."
Porter Manse.
THE PRIMROSE.
Who tells you, sweet primrose, 'tis time to wake up
After dreaming all day?
Who changes so quickly your sombre green dress
To the yellow one gay,
And makes you the pet of the twilight's caress,
And of poet's sweet lay?
Who does, primrose, pray?
After dreaming all day?
Who changes so quickly your sombre green dress
To the yellow one gay,
And makes you the pet of the twilight's caress,
And of poet's sweet lay?
Who does, primrose, pray?
The primrose, secure on his emerald throne,
Looked up quickly to say,
"A dear lovely fairy glides down from his throne
In the sun's golden ray,
And with a sweet kiss opens wide all our eyes,
Saying, 'Now is your day.'
And lo! when he's gone we are filled with surprise
At our wondrous array,
So fresh and so gay.
Do tell us the name of this fairy, I pray,
Who gives of his beauty, and then hies away
Without thanks, without pay.
Does he linger your way?"
Looked up quickly to say,
"A dear lovely fairy glides down from his throne
In the sun's golden ray,
And with a sweet kiss opens wide all our eyes,
Saying, 'Now is your day.'
And lo! when he's gone we are filled with surprise
At our wondrous array,
So fresh and so gay.
Do tell us the name of this fairy, I pray,
Who gives of his beauty, and then hies away
Without thanks, without pay.
Does he linger your way?"
JOY, ALL JOY.
Lying on the new-mown hay, in a sightly field,
On a summer day,
With no care to weigh,
Or a bitter thought to stay all that sense might yield—
What a joy to have alway!
On a summer day,
With no care to weigh,
Or a bitter thought to stay all that sense might yield—
What a joy to have alway!
Sky as blue as blue can be, perfect green all round,
Birdlings on the wing
Ere they pause to sing
On the top of bush or tree, or on sweet hay-mound—
Restful joy in everything!
Birdlings on the wing
Ere they pause to sing
On the top of bush or tree, or on sweet hay-mound—
Restful joy in everything!
Butterflies just come to light, proud of freedom's hour,
Cows in pastures near,
Wondering why I'm here,
Chipmunks now and then in sight, bees in clover-flower—
Added joy when these appear!
Cows in pastures near,
Wondering why I'm here,
Chipmunks now and then in sight, bees in clover-flower—
Added joy when these appear!
Happy children far and near climbing loads of hay,
Running here and there.
Farmer's work to share,
Skipping, shouting loud and clear, full of daring play—
Children's joy! Joy everywhere!
Running here and there.
Farmer's work to share,
Skipping, shouting loud and clear, full of daring play—
Children's joy! Joy everywhere!
AMONG THE PINES.