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William Henry Davis
What is this life, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
When woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
Thanksgiving Day in the Morning
What is the place you like the best
Thanksgiving day in the morning?
The kitchen! With so many things to test,
And help to measure, and stir with zest,
And sniff and sample and all the rest –
Thanksgiving Day in the morning.
What are the colours you like the most
Thanksgiving Day in the morning?
The colour of cranberries uppermost,
The pumpkin-yellow the pie tops boast,
The turkey-brown of a crispy roast –
Thanksgiving Day in the morning.
What are the sounds you are gay
Thanksgiving Day in the morning?
The sizzly sounds on the roaster tray,
The gravy gurgling itself away,
The company sounds at the door – hooray!
Thanksgiving Day in the morning.
Nine- o’ clock bell!
Nine- o’clock bell! And the small children and big ones as well,
Pulling their stockings up, snatching their hats,
Cheeking and grumbling and giving back-chats
Laughing and quarrelling, dropping their things,
These at a snail’s pace and those upon wings,
Lagging behind a bit, running ahead, waiting at corners for lights to turn red,
Some of them scurrying,
Others not worrying.
Carelessly trudging or anxiously hurrying,
All through the streets they are coming pell-mell
At the nine- o’clock
One road leads to London,
One road leads to Wales,
My road leads me seawards
To the white dipping sails.
One road leads to the river
As it goes singing slow,
My road leads to shipping
Where the bronzed sailors go.
Leads me, lures me, calls me to salt green tossing sea;
A road without earth’s road dust
Is the right road for me.
A wet road having shining,
A wild with seagulls’ cries,
A mad salt sea-wind blowing
The salt spray in my eyes.
My road calls me, lures me west, east, south and north.
Most roads lead men homewards,
My road leads me forth.
Behind kaleidoscopic eyes
There’s no mystery there that lies.
She’s the one to see it all
From her position on the wall.
We look for something in her smile,
We stand to study her a while,
Her face of beauty that we seek.
What would she say if she could speak?
Is her beauty, oh, so rare?
Was Mona Lisa just a maiden fair?
Is she a mirror image of me?
Is that what I’m supposed to see?
Mona’s portrait on the wall –
A combination of us all.
There’s a touch of someone there
In the beauty of her hair.
That hint of prison in her eyes
Makes her appear to be so wise.
The playful curvature of her lip
On her cheeks can dance a quip.
She’s a beauty this Mona Lisa
But so is the leaning Tower of Pisa.
What is the mystery there that lies
Behind kaleidoscopic eyes?
Don’t wait till tomorrow
To reach out and grow,
To learn something interesting
Don’t wait till tomorrow
To find ways to share,
To make a new friend,
Really show that you care.
Don’t wait till tomorrow
To follow your heart,
To savor the beauty that life can impart.
Don’t wait till tomorrow
To let yourself start…
Take time to do it today!
I bring fresh showers for the thirsty flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
He went to the windows of those who slept
And over each pane like a fairy crept.
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped,
By the light of the moon were seen
Most beautiful things: there were flowers and trees,
There were beavies of birds and swarms of bees,
There were cities with temples and towers, and these
All pictured in silver sheen.
Since books are friends,
They need much care.
When you are reading them,
Be good to them and fair!
Use book-marks, children, then:
Books are meant to read,
Not cut or colour them
No, really never indeed.
Spring is coming
Spring is coming, spring is coming,
Birdies, build your nest;
Weave together straw and feather
Doing each your best.
Spring is coming, spring is coming,
Flowers are coming too.
Pansies, lilies, daffodilies
Now are coming through.
Spring is coming, spring is coming,
All around is fair;
Shimmer and quiver on the river,
Joy is everywhere.
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air and over the wall,
Up in the air so blue? Till I can see so wide,
Oh, I do think it’s a pleasantest thing
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Ever a child can do! Over the country-side –
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down the roof so brown –
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down.
The Earth is a garden.
It’s a beautiful place
For all living creatures,
For all the human race.
Helping Mother Earth
We can peacefully roam
We all deserve a place
We can call our home.
Give us something good to eat.
Give us something sweet to take.
Give us cookies, fruit and gum,
Hurry up and give us some.
You had better do it quick.
Or we’ll surely play a trick.
In the other gardens,
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!
Pleasant summer’s over
And all summer flowers,
The red fire flazes,
The gray smoke towes.
Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!
Impression du matin
The Thames nocturne of blue and gold
Changed to a harmony in grey
A barge with ochre-coloured hay
Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold.
The yellow fog came creeping down,
The bridges, till the houses walls
Seemed changed to shadows,
Loomed like a bubble o’er the town.
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
Poems for younger children
The snow is falling,
The wind is blowing,
The ground is white
All day and all night.
Spring, spring, spring!
The trees are green,
Blue skies are seen.
Grey winter has gone away!
The world looks new and gay.
There are four little words,
That can help you a lot,
When you hurt your mother
On purpose or not.
So say the four words,
Don’t wait too long!
If you’ve hurt your mother
Say: “I’m sorry. I’m wrong.”
Sweet and fresh is everything.
Winter winds are not blowing.
In the fields all is growing.
Sweet and fresh is everything.
The New Year Tree so fine and tall
Stands in the centre of the hall.
Its needles are green,
It’s toys are bright.
Our New Year party is tonight.
Around the fir-tree let us play,
Because it is a New Year Day.
Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can
In all the ways you can
In all the places you can,
In all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.
I am running on my skis,
White and silver are the trees.
I am skating on bright ice
Winter holidays are nice.
It will be a present,
Beautiful and nice,
Something very pleasant for my mother’s eyes.
See! The scarf is ready,
Full of daughter’s love.
Oh! And in the middle
There’s a white dove.
Help your mother lay the table,
Put a knife and fork and spoon.
Help your mother lay the table
Help your mother clean the table,
Take the knife and fork and spoon.
Help your mother clean the table
Morning, night and noon.
Mrs. Grundy washes on Monday,
Irons on Tuesday,
Shops on Wednesday,
Bakes on Thursday,
Cleans on Saturday,
Cooks on Sunday…
This is the tale of Mrs. Grundy.
I think mice are rather nice.
Their tails are long, their faces small,
They haven’t got any chins at all.
Their ears are pink, their teeth are white.
They run about the house at night.
They nibble things they shouldn’t touch
And no one seems to like them much.
But I think mice are rather nice.
Honey is sweeter than sugar,
Coffee is stronger than tea,
Juice is better than water,
You can’t be smarter than me.
A peach is sweeter than a cake,
A sea is deeper than a lake,
A boy is noisier than a bee,
A girl is shorter than a tree.
Some of us like brown bread,
Some of us like white
Some of us eat a lot of meat
Some don’t think it’s right.
Some of us like apples,
Some drink juice at night
Some of us eat many sweets,
Some don’t think it’s right.
Your tiger is wild,
But mine is wilder,
Your heart is kind,
But mine is kinder.
Anything you can do,
I can do better:
I can say wiser,
I can draw nicer.
Anything you can buy,
I can buy cheaper,
Anything you can learn,
I can learn quicker.
January is Wet and Cold
January is wet and cold,
February is when we all feel old.
May brings birds and flowers again.
August – berries and ice-cream.
Leaves change colour
Nights are long,
December – Christmas comes along.
I wish I were a snowman,
So tall and big and white.
I’d never have to clean my teeth
Or go to bed at night.
But maybe Mr. Snowman
Is wishing he were me,
For I’ll be here when summer comes,
But where will the snowman be?
A Spike of Green
When I went out
The sun was hot,
And there I saw
A spike of green
That no one else had ever seen!
On other days the things I see
Are mostly old except for me.
But this green spike so new and small
Been seen at all.
Thinking of snow
The snow is white,
‘tis a beautiful day,
Oh, what a sight!
It’s on the ground,
It’s on the rocks,
It’s in the trees
And in my socks!
Will melt the snow,
All things must end
And so it must go.
But again it will come
To cover the ground
And fill the trees
For miles around.
I, Myself and Me
I gave a little party
This afternoon at three;
‘twas very small,
Three guests in all –
Just I, myself and me.
Myself ate up the sandwiches,
While I drank up the tea,
And it was I who ate the pie
And passed the cake to me.
In the Merry Month of May
In the merry month of May
All the violets are gay.
They all dance, and sing, and say,
Winter days are far away.
Winter days are far away,
Welcome, welcome, merry May.
In the merry month of May
All the birds are very gay.
They all dance, and sing, and say,
Winter days are far away.
Winter days are far away,
Welcome, welcome, merry May.
In the merry month of May
All the children are very gay.
They all dance, and sing, and say,
Winter days are far away.
Winter days are far away,
Welcome, welcome, merry May!
Who likes coffee
And who likes tea?
A plane is faster than a train.
A bike is slower than a train.
A duck is bigger than a frog.
A cat is weaker than a dog.
Tomorrow on Sunday
We go to the zoo.
We go to the zoo.
There is a bear there
And a zebra too,
A monkey and a tiger
Blue is the sea
Blue is the sea,
Green is the grass.
White are the clouds
As they slowly pass.
Black are the crows,
Brown are the trees,
Red are the sails
Of a ship in the breeze.
Cold December brings us skating,
For the New Year we are waiting.
January brings us the snow
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February snows again
And sometimes brings us rain.
March brings us sunny days and winds,
So we know that spring begins.
April brings the primrose sweet,
We see the daisies at our feet.
May brings flowers,
And the holidays for us.
Winter is the king of showmen -
Turning tree stumps into snowmen,
And houses into birthday cakes,
And spreading sugar over lakes.
Smooth and clean and frosty white -
The world looks good enough to bite!
I want to laugh
When life is fun.
I want to stretch out
To all the young of other lands.
I want to laugh
Are good for my teeth
Says little Ted.
A dog can’t talk,
But he can bark
When I take my dog to the park.
I throw him a stick,
And he runs a race.
Then he comes back and licks my face.
Ten little fingers,
Ten little toes,
Two little ears
And one little nose.
Two little eyes
That shine so bright
One little mouth
To kiss mummy “Good night”.
Spring is coming,
Spring is coming,
Flowers are coming too.
Snowdrops, lilies, daffodils
Now are coming too.
It’s winter, it’s winter!
Let us skate and ski!
It’s winter, it’s winter,
It’s great fun for me!
1,1,1 – I love the sun.
2, 2, 2 – I love Mummy too!
3, 3, 3 – my mummy loves me.
4, 4, 4 – I love her more and more.
I count from one, I love the sun,
I count to four, I love Mummy more!
Look! We have a snowman,
He is tall and fat.
He has a carrot in his nose,
He has a funny hat.
It is winter, it is cold.
Father Frost is very old.
But he is always full of joy,
And glad to give me a nice toy.
Summer will come.
What games will you play?
What will you do on a hot summer day?
I’ll swim in the river,
I’ll play in the sun,
I’ll go to the forest,
I’ll have much fun!
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