![](http://www.alamy.com/thumbs/6/CA80D7B2-1826-4FF3-8597-CAACA4452122/2AJ8B42.jpg)
Ballads for little folk . SUPPOSE. How dreary would the meadows beIn the pleasant summer light, Suppose there wasnt a bird to sing,And suppose the grass was white ! And dreary would the garden be, With all its flowery trees,Suppose there were no butterflies, And suppose there were no bees. And what would all the beauty be,And what the song that cheers, Suppose we hadnt any eyes,And suppose we hadnt ears ? For though the grass were gay and green,And song-birds filled the glen, And the air were purple with butterflies,What good would they do us then ? Ah, think of it, my little friends ; And whe
Ballads for little folk . SUPPOSE. How dreary would the meadows beIn the pleasant summer light, Suppose there wasnt a bird to sing,And suppose the grass was white ! And dreary would the garden be, With all its flowery trees,Suppose there were no butterflies, And suppose there were no bees. And what would all the beauty be,And what the song that cheers, Suppose we hadnt any eyes,And suppose we hadnt ears ? For though the grass were gay and green,And song-birds filled the glen, And the air were purple with butterflies,What good would they do us then ? Ah, think of it, my little friends ; And when some pleasure flies,Why, let it go, and still be glad That you have your ears and A GOOD RULE. A farmer, who owned a fine orchard, one dayWent out with his sons to take a survey,The time of the year being April or May. The buds were beginning to break into bloom,The air all about him was rich with perfume,And nothing, at first, waked a feeling of gloom. But all at once, going from this place to that,He shaded his eyes with the brim of his hat,Saying, Here is a tree dying out, that is flat ! He called his sons, Joseph and John, and said he,This sweeting, you know, was my favorite tree —Just look at the top now, and see what you see ! The blossoms are blighted, and, sure as you live,It wont have a bushel of apples to give !What ails it ? the rest of the trees seem to thrive. Run, boys, bring hither your tools, and dont stop,But take every branch that is falling alop,And saw it out quickly, from bottom to top ! 3 34 A Good Rule. Yes, father, they said, and away they both ran —For they always said father, and never old man,And for my part I dont see how good childr
Size: 3015px × 829px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjectchildre, bookyear1874