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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS
THE MERRY HEART
Jog on, jog on the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a:
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
The Treasure Book of Children's Verse - MISCELLANEOUS POEMS
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The Treasure Book of Children's Verse - FUN AND FROLIC
FUN AND FROLIC
THE COMICAL GIRL
There was a child, as I've been told,
Who, when she was young, did not look old.
Another thing, too, some people have said,
At the top of her body there grew a head.
And, what perhaps might make people stare,
Her little bald pate was covered with hair.
Another strange thing that made gossips talk,
Was, that she often attempted to walk.
And then, do you know, she occasioned much fun,
By moving so fast as sometimes to run.
Nay, indeed, I have heard that some people say
She often would smile, and often would play.
And what is a fact, though it seems very odd,
She had a monstrous dislike to the feel of a rod.
This strange little child sometimes hungry would be,
And then was delighted her victuals to see.
Even drink she could swallow, and, though strange it appears,
Whenever she listened, it was with her ears.
With her eyes she could see, and strange to relate,
Her peepers were placed in the front of her pate.
There, too, was her mouth, and also her nose ;
And on her two feet were placed her ten toes.
Her teeth, I've been told, were fixed in her gums ;
And, besides having fingers, she also had thumbs.
A droll child she therefore most surely must be,
For, not being blind, she was able to see.
One circumstance more had nigh slipped my mind,
Which is, when not cross, she always was kind.
And, strangest of any that yet I have said,
She every night went to sleep on her bed.
And what may occasion you no small surprise,
When napping, she always shut close up her eyes.
Anon.
The Treasure Book of Children's Verse - ROMANCE AND HEROISM
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ROMANCE AND HEROISM
KING HENRY'S ADDRESS BEFORE AGINCOURT
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian :
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand on tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Grispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, "To-morrow is Saint Grispian":
Then will he strip his sleeves and show his scars,
And say, "These wounds I had on Crispian's day."
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Henry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups richly remembered.
The Treasure Book of Children's Verse - STORIES IN VERSE
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STORIES IN VERSE
PERSEVERANCE
On a bed of sickness lying,
Wounded, hopeless, ill and faint,
Robert Bruce, great King of Scotland,
Thus began his sad complaint:
"On the field the battle's chances
Six times have I tried in vain;
Six times turned, dethroned, defeated,
To the battle-field again.
" All my valiant men are slaughtered,
Split and shattered sword and shield,
And I feel I soon my spirit
To my last foe, Death, must yield.
" Take the crown away, ye foemen ;
Then, O God, my spirit take,
For my hopes are past and shattered,
And I feel my heart will break."
As the King was thus complaining,
Praying God to end his days,
He beheld a busy spider
Swinging in the sun's warm rays.
In the stone-arched window hanging,
With surprising art and strength
Carries she her thread, to fasten
To the wall its slender length.
And he saw the spider's efforts
Every time seemed quite in vain;
Each time that she tried to reach it,
Each time fell she back again.
Six times he beheld her newly
Rise with unabated zeal,
Till, encouraged by her patience,
He began new hope to feel.
" If," thought he, " the spider's efforts
At the seventh time succeed,
I my few remaining soldiers
To the battle-field will lead."
Once more sideways swung the spider,
And this time she gained the day :
Who is true and persevering,
To despair need ne'er give way.
With new courage from his bed sprang
Robert Bruce, the hero brave—
Once more saw his foes with terror
Scotland's banner o'er them wave.
The Treasure Book of Children's Verse - BIRDS AND FLOWERS, BEASTS AND INSECTS (2)
WHO STOLE THE BIRD'S NEST?
" Tu-whit! tu-whit ! tu-whee !
Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made ? "
"Not I," said the cow, " Moo-oo!
Such a thing I'd never do;
I gave you a wisp of hay,
But didn't take your nest away,
Not I," said the cow, "Moo-oo!
Such a thing I'd never do."
" Tu-whit! tu-whit! tu-whee !
Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made ? '
Bob-o-link! Bob-o-link!
Now what do you think ?
Who stole a nest away
From the plum-tree to-day?
" Not I," said the dog, " Bow-wow 1
I'm not so mean anyhow!
I gave hairs the nest to make,
But the nest I did not take.
Not I," said the dog, "Bow-wow!
I'm not so mean anyhow."
" Tu-whit! tu-whit! tu-whee!
Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made?"
Bob-o-link! Bob-o-link!
Now what do you think?
Who stole a nest away
From the plum-tree to-day?
" Goo-coo ! Coo-coo ! Goo-coo !
Let me speak a few words too!
Who stole that pretty nest
From poor little yellow-breast ? "
"Not I," said the sheep,
"Oh no! I wouldn't treat a poor bird so.
I gave wool the nest to line,
But the nest was none of mine.
Baa! Baa!" said the sheep,
"Oh no! I wouldn't treat a poor bird so."
" Tu-whit! tu-whit! tu-whee !
Will you listen to me ?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made ?'
Bob-o-link! Bob-o-link !
Now what do you think?
Who stole a nest away
From the plum-tree to-day?
"Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo!
Let me speak a few words too !
Who stole that pretty nest
From poor little yellow-breast ?'
The Treasure Book of Children's Verse - BIRDS AND FLOWERS, BEASTS AND INSECTS (1)
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BIRDS AND FLOWERS, BEASTS AND INSECTS
GREAT, WIDE, BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL WORLD
Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world,
With the wonderful water round you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast—
World, you are beautifully drest.
The wonderful air is over me,
And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree,
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the tops of the hills.
You friendly earth ! how far do you go,
With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow,
With cities and gardens, and cliffs, and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles ?
Ah, you are so great and I am so small,
I tremble to think of you, World, at all ;
And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,
A Whisper inside me seemed to say,
" You are more than the earth, though you are such a dot:
You can love and think, and the earth cannot!'
WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS.
The Treasure Book of Children's Verse - FAIRIES AND FANCIES
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PREFACE
"OUGHT I not to be grateful for all these blessings which I possess without deserving them ?" Such were the thoughts inculcated in the minds of good children of the days of Sandford and Merton. The more natural type of the " human boy " of this century, and perhaps of all time, is represented by Master Tommy Merton, "who had hitherto enjoyed all the good things of this life without reflecting from whom he had received them." Young readers of this selection will, we hope, thank those who present them with a copy of it; but we fear that only in the roundabout manner of tacit appreciation will they show gratitude to the authors of the poems.
The editors, however, must nol forgo the opportunity and the duty of thanking all*who have enabled them to compile this volume and make it as good as it is. To those who are no longer here to read our words we tender silent gratitude for the wealth they have left to us. But to those other poets who have so generously helped us, and are, happily, still in our midst, we wish to offer our very sincere thanks. In several cases not only have the authors granted us permission to make use of their poems, but their personal interest has been taken in the selection, and the proofs have been read by them.
Mr. Alfred Noyes for four poems; to Mr. A. St. John Adcock for one poem ; to Mr. Canton and Messrs. Hodder and Stoughton for three poems ; to Mr. Norman Gale for two poems; to Sir Everard Hastings Doyle for one poem ; to Mrs. Robertson-Glasgow for one poem ; to Mr. Walter de la Mare for three poems ; to Messrs. Allen and Sons for one poem by W. Gory ; to Mrs. Allingham for three poems by William Allingham ; to Mr. John Lane for two poems by Eugene Field. Acknowledgments are also gladly made to Messrs. Longmans for three poems by Stevenson ; to Messrs. Allen and Sons for four poems by George MacDonald; and to Mr. John Lane for three poems by W. Brighty Rands.
In some cases it has been extremely difficult to trace and find the author of a poem, but we sincerely hope that nothing has been used by us wrongfully; and if by chance we have been guilty of neglect .in acknowledging our obligations, we trust that our hokiest endeavours to trace all poems to their authors wilt be: accepted as our apology.
M. Q.-G.
L. Q.-G.
The Wonder Clock by Howard Pyle (Part 2)
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ONCE upon a time there was a man whose name was just Master Jacob and nothing more.
All that Master Jacob had in the world was a good fat pig, two black goats, a wife, and a merry temper — which was more than many a better man than he had, for the matter of that.
" See, now," says Master Jacob, " I will drive the fat pig to the market to-morrow ; who knows but that I might strike a bit of a sale."
" Do," says Master Jacob's wife, for she was of the good sort, and always nodded when he said "yes," as the saying goes.
Now there were three rogues in the town over the hill, who lived in plenty; one was the priest, one was the provost, and one was the master mayor; and which was the greatest rogue of the three it would be a hard matter to tell, but perhaps it was the priest.
" See, now," says the priest to the other two, " Master Jacob, who lives over yonder way, is going to bring his fat pig to market to-morrow. If you have a mind for a trick, we will go snacks in what we win, and each of us will have a rib or two of bacon hanging in the pantry, and a string or so of sausages back in the chimney without paying so much as a brass button for them."
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The Black Arrow (Illustrated)
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ONCE upon a time there was a man whose name was just Master Jacob and nothing more.
All that Master Jacob had in the world was a good fat pig, two black goats, a wife, and a merry temper — which was more than many a better man than he had, for the matter of that.
" See, now," says Master Jacob, " I will drive the fat pig to the market to-morrow ; who knows but that I might strike a bit of a sale."
" Do," says Master Jacob's wife, for she was of the good sort, and always nodded when he said "yes," as the saying goes.
Now there were three rogues in the town over the hill, who lived in plenty; one was the priest, one was the provost, and one was the master mayor; and which was the greatest rogue of the three it would be a hard matter to tell, but perhaps it was the priest.
" See, now," says the priest to the other two, " Master Jacob, who lives over yonder way, is going to bring his fat pig to market to-morrow. If you have a mind for a trick, we will go snacks in what we win, and each of us will have a rib or two of bacon hanging in the pantry, and a string or so of sausages back in the chimney without paying so much as a brass button for them."
The Wonder Clock by Howard Pyle (Part 1)
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| The Arabian Nights Entertainments (Illustrated) |
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| Otto of the Silver Hand (Illustrated) |
The Wonder Clock
by Howard Pyle
PREFACE.
I PUT on my dream -cap one day and stepped into Wonderland.
Along the road I jogged and never dusted my shoes, and all the time the pleasant sun shone and never burned my back, and the little white clouds floated across the blue sky and never let fall a drop of rain to wet my jacket. And by and by I came to a steep hill.
I climbed the hill, though I had more than one tumble in doing it, and there, on the tip-top, I found a house as old as the world itself.
That was where Father Time lived ; and who should sit in the sun at the door, spinning away for dear life, but Time's Grandmother herself; and if you would like to know how old she is you will have to climb to the top of the church steeple and ask the wind as he sits upon the weather-cock, humming the tune of Over-yonder song to himself. " Good-morning," says Time's Grandmother to me. " Good-morning," says I to her. " And what do you seek here ?" says she to me. " I come to look for odds and ends," says I to her. " Very well," says she ; " just climb the stairs to the garret, and there you will find more than ten men can think about."
" Thank you," says I, and up the stairs I went. There I found all manner of queer forgotten things which had been laid away, nobody but Time and his Grandmother could tell where.
Over in the corner was a great, tall clock, that had stood there silently with never a tick or a ting since men began to grow too wise for toys and trinkets.
The adventures of Odysseus (Part 2)
CHAPTER XI
HOW ODYSSEUS VISITED THE HOUSE OF DEATH
So we went on board and set sail with a favouring wind. We made the ship trim and sat down to rest, while the wind and the steersman guided us on till at night we came to that deep-tiowing stream of Ocean that circles all the world. There the Cimmerians live in mist and cloud and never see the sun, for a deadly night hangs over their land. We passed them by and went on to the place which Circe had told us of, and there I bade two of my companions take the sheep and hold them ready for the sacrifice, while I drew my sword and dug a pit a yard in length each way, and in it I poured a drink offering to the dead, honey and wine and water, and sprinkled barley over it. And I prayed to Persephone, the pure and awful Goddess of the Underworld, and took the victims and cut their throats and let the dark blood tiow forth.
Then the spirits of the dead came forth from their dwelling-place and gathered round me, but 1 drew my sword and would not let them touch the blood till I had inquired of Teiresias. My mother's spirit came to me, Anticleia, whom I left alive when I set out for Troy and I wept when I saw her; but for all my sorrow I would not let her touch the blood till I had seen Teiresias.
The adventures of Odysseus (Part 1)
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THE ADVENTURES OF ODYSSEUS
Retold in English by
Francis Sydney Marvin,
R. J. G. Mayor
and
Florence Melian Stawell
Illustrated by Charles Robinson
PREFACE
It has been our aim in this book to reproduce the substance of Homer's Odyssey in simple modern Enghsh. Told in this way, the story seems to us one which children might understand and enjoy among their earliest fairy-tales. At the same time we hope that such a version may, in many cases, prove more acceptable to older readers than a literal translation. We have not hesitated to omit and compress where we thought fit, but we have done our best to make a faithful translation within our limits, and to keep what we could of the Homeric spirit.
We have used in most cases the Greek proper names, as Zeus^ Atloena^ and Odysseus^ rather than the Latin forms, Jupiter^ Minerva^ and Ulysses^ which claim to represent them. The Latin names, no doubt, are somew^hat more familiar, but their associations are misleading; while the Greek originals do not, we think, offer
Preface
any serious difficulty, and are steadily becoming better known. For the customary term Phaeacians^ which seemed to us awkward, we have ventured to substitute Sea-kifigs^ a title suggested by the character of the people and the seafaring names in use among them.
F. S. M.
R. y. G. M.
F. M. S.
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