Tag: Poetry
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“The Queen of Hearts”
The speaker is puzzled by Flora’s consistent ability to hold the Queen of Hearts while playing cards, suggesting mystery and skill.
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Signs of Spring by Mary Austin
Signs of Spring Cream-cups, butter-cups, Dandelions and sedges; Blackbirds in the poplar row, Sparrows in the hedges; Fruit-buds in the orchard Swelling with the rain; All the close-fed pasture-lands Growing green again. Poppies on the river-bluff Soon will wake from sleeping; Home along the foothills Woolly clouds a-creeping.
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A Song from the Suds by Louisa May Alcott
A Song from the Sudsby: Louisa May Alcott Queen of my tub, I merrily sing,While the white foam rises high,And sturdily wash and rinse and wring,And fasten the clothes to dry.Then out in the free fresh air they swing,Under the sunny sky. I wish we could wash from our hearts and soulsThe stains of the…
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When the Frost is on the Pumpkin
By Jame Whitcomb Riley When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens,And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’…
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The Boatman
The Boatman “Ferry me across the water,Do, boatman, do.”“If you’ve a penny in your purseI’ll ferry you.” “I have a penny in my purse,And my eyes are blue;So, ferry me across the water,Do, boatman, do!” “Step into my ferry-boat,Be they black or blue,And for the penny in your purseI’ll ferry you.” by: Christina Georgina Rossetti
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A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A Psalm of Life By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not…
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Mother Goose: Mary’s Canary
MARY’S CANARYMary had a pretty bird, Feathers bright and yellow,Slender legs–upon my word He was a pretty fellow! The sweetest note he always sung, Which much delighted Mary.She often, where the cage was hung, Sat hearing her canary.
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Mother Goose: Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary
MARY, MARY, QUITE CONTRARYMary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow?Silver bells and cockle-shells, And pretty maids all of a row.
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Mother Goose: Little Jack Horner
LITTLE JACK HORNERLittle Jack HornerSat in the corner, Eating of Christmas pie:He put in his thumb,And pulled out a plum, And said, “What a good boy am I!”
