Singing (Robert Louis Stevenson Poems)
Of speckled eggs the birdie sings And nests among the trees; The sailor sings of ropes and things In ships ...
Of speckled eggs the birdie sings And nests among the trees; The sailor sings of ropes and things In ships ...
The sun is not a-bed, when I At night upon my pillow lie; Still round the earth his way he ...
When children are playing alone on the green, In comes the playmate that never was seen. When children are happy ...
The red room with the giant bed Where none but elders laid their head; The little room where you and ...
BEFORE this little gift was come The little owner had made haste for home; And from the door of where ...
If two may read aright These rhymes of old delight And house and garden play, You too, my cousins, and ...
Come up here, O dusty feet! Here is fairy ready to eat. Here in my retiring room, Children ,you may ...
I should like to rise and go Where the golden apples grow;-- Where below another sky Parrot islands anchored lie, ...
The coach is at the door at last; The eager children, mounting fast And kissing hands, in chorus sing: Good-bye, ...
Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green ...
FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, Here I wander in ...
Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the trunk with both my hands And ...
Children, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle; If you would grow great and stately, You must ...
COME, my little children, here are songs for you; Some are short and some are long, and all, all are ...
Over the borders, a sin without pardon, Breaking the branches and crawling below, Out through the breach in the wall ...
Smooth it glides upon its travel, Here a wimple, there a gleam-- O the clean gravel! O the smooth stream! ...
From Child's Garden of Verses I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can ...
Birds all the summer day Flutter and quarrel Here in the arbour-like Tent of the laurel. Here in the fork ...
Summer fading, winter comes-- Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, Window robins, winter rooks, And the picture story-books. Water now is turned ...
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