The Posy Ring: A Book of Verse for Children. Various

the tall ship sleeps on its heaving breast.

      Letitia Elizabeth Landon.

       The Fountain

      Into the sunshine,

       Full of the light,

       Leaping and flashing

       From morn till night!

       Into the moonlight,

       Whiter than snow,

       Waving so flower-like

       When the winds blow!

       Into the starlight,

       Rushing in spray,

       Happy at midnight,

       Happy by day;

       Ever in motion,

       Blithesome and cheery,

       Still climbing heavenward,

       Never aweary;

       Glad of all weathers;

       Still seeming best,

       Upward or downward;

       Motion thy rest; Full of a nature Nothing can tame, Changed every moment, Ever the same; Ceaseless aspiring, Ceaseless content, Darkness or sunshine Thy element; Glorious fountain! Let my heart be Fresh, changeful, constant, Upward like thee!

      James Russell Lowell.

       The Waterfall

      Tinkle, tinkle! Listen well! Like a fairy silver bell In the distance ringing, Lightly swinging In the air; 'Tis the water in the dell Where the elfin minstrels dwell, Falling in a rainbow sprinkle, Dropping stars that brightly twinkle, Bright and fair, On the darkling pool below, Making music so; 'Tis the water elves who play On their lutes of spray. Tinkle, tinkle! Like a fairy silver bell; Like a pebble in a shell; Tinkle, tinkle! Listen well!

      Frank Dempster Sherman.

       The Voice of the Grass

      Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;

       By the dusty roadside,

       On the sunny hill-side,

       Close by the noisy brook,

       In every shady nook,

       I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

       Here I come creeping, smiling everywhere;

       All around the open door,

       Where sit the aged poor;

       Here where the children play,

       In the bright and merry May,

       I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

       Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;

       In the noisy city street

       My pleasant face you'll meet,

       Cheering the sick at heart

       Toiling his busy part—

       Silently creeping, creeping everywhere.

       Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;

       You cannot see me coming,

       Nor hear my low sweet humming;

       For in the starry night,

       And the glad morning light,

       I come quietly creeping everywhere.

       Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;

       More welcome than the flowers

       In summer's pleasant hours;

       The gentle cow is glad,

       And the merry bird not sad,

       To see me creeping, creeping everywhere.

       … . … . Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere; My humble song of praise Most joyfully I raise To him at whose command I beautify the land, Creeping, silently creeping everywhere.