Various - Graded Memory Selections стр 4.

Little white snowdrop, I pray you arise:
Bright yellow crocus, come, open your eyes:
Sweet little violets hid from the cold,
Put on your mantles of purple and gold.
Daffodils, daffodils, say, do you hear?
Summer is coming and springtime is here.

Suppose the little cowslip
Should hang its golden cup,
And say, Im such a tiny flower,
Id better not grow up;
How many a weary traveler
Would miss its fragrant smell,
And many a little child would grieve
To lose it from the dell.

Suppose the little breezes,
Upon a summers day,
Should think themselves too small
To cool the traveler on his way;
Who would not miss the smallest
And softest ones that blow,
And think they made a great mistake,
If they were talking so?

Suppose the little dewdrop
Upon the grass should say,
What can a little dewdrop do?
Id better roll away.
The blade on which it rested,
Before the day was done,
Without a drop to moisten it,
Would wither in the sun.

How many deeds of kindness
A little child can do,
Although it has but little strength,
And little wisdom, too!
It wants a loving spirit,
Much more than strength, to prove
How many things a child may do
For others by its love.

Come, little leaves, said the wind one day;
Come over the meadows with me, and play,
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
Summer is gone and the days grow cold.

Soon the leaves heard the winds loud call,
Down they fell fluttering, one and all.
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the soft little songs they knew.

Dancing and flying, the little leaves went;
Winter had called them, and they were content.
Soon fast asleep in their earthy beds,
The snow laid a white blanket over their heads.

If I were a sunbeam,
I know what Id do:
I would seek white lilies
Rainy woodlands through:
I would steal among them,
Softest light Id shed,
Until every lily
Raised its drooping head.

If I were a sunbeam,
I know where Id go:
Into lowliest hovels,
Dark with want and woe:
Till sad hearts looked upward,
I would shine and shine;
Then theyd think of heaven,
Their sweet home and mine.

Art thou not a sunbeam,
Child whose life is glad
With an inner radiance
Sunshine never had?
Oh, as God has blessed thee,
Scatter rays divine!
For there is no sunbeam
But must die, or shine.

A bumble bee, yellow as gold
Sat perched on a red-clover top,
When a grasshopper, wiry and old,
Came along with a skip and a hop.
Good morrow cried he, Mr. Bumble Bee,
You seem to have come to stop.

We people that work, said the bee with a jerk,
Find a benefit sometimes in stopping,
Only insects like you, who have nothing to do
Can keep perpetually hopping.
The grasshopper paused on his way
And thoughtfully hunched up his knees:
Why trouble this sunshiny day,
Quoth he, with reflections like these?
I follow the trade for which I was made
We all cant be wise bumble-bees;
Theres a time to be sad and a time to be glad,
A time for both working and stopping,
For men to make money, for you to make honey,
And for me to keep constantly hopping.

I once had a sweet little doll, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world;
Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,
And her hair was so charmingly curled:
But I lost my poor little doll, dears,
As I played on the heath one day,
And I cried for her more than a week, dears,
And I never could find where she lay.

I found my poor little doll, dears,
As I played on the heath one day;
Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,
For her paint is all washed away;
And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears,
And her hair not the least bit curled:
Yet for old times sake, she is still to me
The prettiest doll in the world.

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up peoples feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

We go on our walk together
Baby and dog and I
Three little merry companions,
Neath any sort of sky:
Blue as our babys eyes are,
Gray like our old dogs tail;
Be it windy or cloudy or stormy,
Our courage will never fail.

Babys a little lady;
Dog is a gentleman brave;
If he had two legs as you have,
Hed kneel to her like a slave;
As it is, he loves and protects her,
As dog and gentleman can.
Id rather be a kind doggie,
I think, than a cruel man.

I saw you toss the kites on high,
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass
Like ladies skirts across the grass
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

O you, that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

Hearts like doors can open with ease
To very, very little keys;
And neer forget that they are these:
I thank you, sir, and If you please.

Grandma told me all about it,
Told me so I couldnt doubt it,
How she danced, my grandma danced; long ago
How she held her pretty head,
How her dainty skirt she spread,
How she slowly leaned and roselong ago.

Grandmas hair was bright and sunny,
Dimpled cheeks, too, oh, how funny!
Really quite a pretty girllong ago.
Bless her! why, she wears a cap,
Grandma does and takes a nap
Every single day: and yet
Grandma danced the minuetlong ago.

Modern ways are quite alarming,
Grandma says, but boys were charming
(Girls and boys she means of course) long ago.
Brave but modest, grandly shy;
She would like to have us try
Just to feel like those who met
In the graceful minuetlong ago.