The Old Swimmin’ Hole (James Whitcomb Riley Poems)
Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, And the ...
Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, And the ...
BLUE-EYED grass in the meadow And yarrow-blooms on the hill,Cattails that rustle and whisper, And winds that are never still;Blue-eyed grass in ...
Like swans, hiding in the reeds the cattails, the plants A cluster of daffodils screened by the forsythia branches Their ...
a small patch, a cluster cattails in the median glowing, glistening December sun, midday Ready to burst open like milkweed ...
A small pool of dark open water beside the cattails the frozen marsh pristine, serene under the clear cold February-blue ...
Steam rose Over the ribbon threaded Through the frozen marsh This waking Frost encrusted the Silent cattails, Highlighted the skin ...
OH! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, ...
All right. Try this, Then. Every body I know and care for, And every body Else is going To die ...
In the willows along the river at Pleasure Bay A catbird singing, never the same phrase twice. Here under the ...
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