Category: Poetry
“Woodman, Spare That Tree”
“Woodman, Spare That Tree”
~George Pope Morris
Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I’ll protect it now.
‘Twas my forefather’s hand
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy ax shall harm it not.
That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea–
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh, spare that agèd oak
Now towering to the skies!
When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
Here, too, my sisters played.
My mother kissed me here;
My father pressed my hand–
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand.
My heart-strings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild-bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree! the storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot;
While I’ve a hand to save,
Thy ax shall harm it not.
“A Life on the Ocean Wave”
“A Life on the Ocean Wave”
~Epes Sargent
A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave,
And the winds their revels keep!
Like an eagle caged, I pine
On this dull, unchanging shore:
Oh! give me the flashing brine,
The spray and the tempest’s roar!
Once more on the deck I stand
Of my own swift-gliding craft:
Set sail! farewell to the land!
The gale follows fair abaft.
We shoot through the sparkling foam
Like an ocean-bird set free;–
Like the ocean-bird, our home
We’ll find far out on the sea.
The land is no longer in view,
The clouds have begun to frown;
But with a stout vessel and crew,
We’ll say, Let the storm come down!
And the song of our hearts shall be,
While the winds and the waters rave,
A home on the rolling sea!
A life on the ocean wave!
“Ingratitude”
“Ingratitude”
~William Shakespeare
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou are not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou are not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot;
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not.
“The North Wind”
“The North Wind”
Art by Margaret Tarrant (I think)
The North Wind came along one day,
So strong and full of fun;
He called the leaves down from the trees
And said run, children, run…
They came in red or yellow dress,
In shaded green and brown,
And all the short November days
He chased them round the town.
“Enter the Night”
“Enter the Night”
Enter the night and you’ll find the light,
Enter the night, let your spirit take flight,
On the longest night we search for the light,
So when you find that spark
When you dream in the dark
Hold it close to your heart and know.
All that you see is all that can be
When you give birth to the dreams.
“The Clock”
Round the clock the hours go,
Sometimes fast and sometimes slow,
Tell me what the two hands say,
They will the time of day.
“Caterpillar” 2nd
“Caterpillar”
Caterpillar, crawling so slow,
Caterpillar, let me help you go,
Carrying my caterpillar showing all my friends
Caterpillar crawled somewhere…
I don’t know where he is.
Caterpillar, where did you go?
Caterpillar, crawling down my nose,
Caterpillar, crawling up the tree,
Caterpillar, eating all the leaves,
Caterpillar, getting big and round,
Caterpillar finds a branch to spin all around.
In his cocoon sleeping for some time
Dreams until he grows some wings
And becomes a butterfly.
Wake up! Wake up!
“The Silver Rain, the Shining Sun”
“The Silver Rain, the Shining Sun”
The silver rain, the shining sun, the fields where scarlet poppies run
And all the ripples of the wheat are in the bread that we do eat.
So when we sit for every meal and say our grace, we always feel
That we are eating rain and sun and fields where scarlet poppies run.
“Buttercups and Daisies”
“Buttercups and Daisies”
~Mary Howitt
Buttercups and daisies,
Oh, the pretty flowers,
Coming ere the spring time,
To tell of sunny hours.
While the tree are leafless,
While the fields are bare,
Buttercups and daisies
Spring up here and there.
Ere the snowdrop peepeth,
Ere the crocus bold,
Ere the early primrose
Opes its paly gold,
Somewhere on the sunny bank
Buttercups are bright;
Somewhere ‘mong the frozen grass
Peeps the daisy white.
Little hardy flowers,
Like to children poor,
Playing in their sturdy health
By their mother’s door,
Purple with the north wind,
Yet alert and bold;
Fearing not, and caring not,
Though they be a-cold!
What to them is winter!
What are stormy showers!
Buttercups and daisies
Are these human flowers!
He who gave them hardships
And a life of care,
Gave them likewise hardy strength
And patient hearts to bear.
“Fairy Song”
“Fairy Song”
~John Keats
Shed no tear! O shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more! O, weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root’s white core.
Dry your eyes! Oh! dry your eyes!
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of melodies–
Shed no tear.
Overhead! look overhead!
‘Mong the blossoms white and red–
Look up, look up. I flutter now
On this flush pomegranate bough.
See me! ’tis this silvery bell
Ever cures the good man’s ill.
Shed no tear! O, shed no tear!
The flowers will bloom another year.
Adieu, adieu–I fly, adieu,
I vanish in the heaven’s blue–
Adieu, adieu!