Poems my children love best of all . jolly, jolly, jolly; Tis folly, folly, folly, And only makes life harder, to complain. The world is full of beauty And smiling lightens duty, Like sunshine weaving rainbows in the rain. John Howard Jewett. 172 Little Folks Book of Verse THE BAREFOOT BOY Blessings on thee, little man,Barefoot boy with cheek of tan!With thy turned-up pantaloons,And thy merry whistled tunes;With thy red lips, redder stillKissed by strawberries on the hill;With the sunshine on thy face,Through thy torn brims jaunty grace;From my heart I give thee joy—I was once a barefoot boy!
Poems my children love best of all . jolly, jolly, jolly; Tis folly, folly, folly, And only makes life harder, to complain. The world is full of beauty And smiling lightens duty, Like sunshine weaving rainbows in the rain. John Howard Jewett. 172 Little Folks Book of Verse THE BAREFOOT BOY Blessings on thee, little man,Barefoot boy with cheek of tan!With thy turned-up pantaloons,And thy merry whistled tunes;With thy red lips, redder stillKissed by strawberries on the hill;With the sunshine on thy face,Through thy torn brims jaunty grace;From my heart I give thee joy—I was once a barefoot boy! Oh for boyhoods time of June,Crowding years in one brief noon,When all things I heard or saw,Me, their master, waited was rich in flowers and trees,Humming-birds and honey-bees;For my sport the squirrel played,Plied the snouted owl his spade;For my taste the blackberry conePurpled over hedge and stone;Laughed the brook for my delightThrough the day and through the was monarch; pomp and joyWaited on the barefoot boy!. The Barefoot Bop Quite Like a Stocking 173 Cheerily, then, my little man,Live and laugh, as boyhood can!Though the flinty slopes be hard,Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,Every morn shall lead thee throughFresh baptisms of the evening from thy feetShall the cool wind kiss the ! that thou couldst know thy joy,Ere it passes, barefoot boy! John Greenleaf Whittier, QUITE LIKE A STOCKING Just as morn was fading amid her misty rings, And every stocking was stuffed with childhoods precious things,Old Kris Kringle looked round and saw on the elm tree boughHigh hung, an orioles nest, lonely and empty now. Quite like a stocking, he laughed, hung up there in the tree,I didnt suppose the birds expected a visit from old Kris Kringle who loves a joke as well as the best,Dropped a handful of snowflakes into the orioles empty nest. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 174 Little Folks Book of Verse MAY Apple blossoms in the orchard, Singing birds on eve
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidpoemsmychild, bookyear1917
