They gather the delicate seaweeds, And build tiny castles of sand; Fairy barks that have drifted to land. Those who toil bravely are strongest; The sword, and the chisel, and palette LITTLE JIM. ANON. [Deliver with great tenderness.] The cottage was a thatched one, the outside old and mean; A little worn out creature-his once bright eyes grown dim; And oh, to see the briny tears fast hurrying down her cheek She gets her answer from the child-soft fall these words from him: "Mother, the angels do so smile, and beckon 'Little Jim;' I have no pain, dear mother, now, but, oh, I am so dry— The cottage door is opened-the collier's step is heard- PRESS ON! ANON. [With vim, and stirringly.] Press on our life is not a dream, To each a daily task is given— A labor that shall fit for Heaven. Then go, a conqueror, to thy rest! THE BABY. GEORGE MACDONALD. [Simply and naturally give the two following poems.] "Where did you come from, baby dear?" "Out of the everywhere into the here." "Where did you get your eyes so blue?" "Out of the sky as I came through." "What makes the light in them sparkle and spin ?" "Some of the starry spikes left in." "Where did you get that little tear?" "I found it waiting when I got here." "What makes your forehead so smooth and high?" "A soft hand stroked it as I went by." "What makes your cheek like a warm white rose ?" "Something better than any one knows." "Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?" "Three Angels gave me at once a kiss." "Where did you get that pearly ear?" "God spoke and it came out to hear." "Where did you get those arms and hands?" "Love made itself into hooks and bands." "Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?" "From the same box as the cherub's wings." "How did they all just come to be you?" "God thought about me, and so I grew." "But how did you come to us, you dear?" "God thought of you, and so I am here." When its time For what's said. Folded hands, Saying prayers; Nor cares; Thinks it's odd; Hear her pray, Bed gown white; Kiss Dolly; Good night; That's Polly. Fast asleep, As you see; Heaven keep My girl for me! A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW. POEMS WRITTEN FOR A CHILD. [Recite the two pieces below in a lively manner.] Quoth the boy, "I'll climb that tree And bring down a nest, I know." |