Child Songs of Cheer Part 2

Tinkle, tinkle,-- Faster now, Little rain-drops, smite and sprinkle Cherry-bloom and apple-bough!

Pelt the elms, and show them how You can das.h.!.+

And splas.h.!.+ splas.h.!.+ splas.h.!.+

While the thunder rolls and mutters, And the lightnings flash and flas.h.!.+

Then eddy into curls Of a million misty swirls, And thread the air with silver, and embroider it with pearls!

And patter, patter, patter To a quicker time, and clatter On the streaming window-pane; Rain, rain, On the leaves, And the eaves, And the turning weather-vane!

Rush in torrents from the tip Of the gable-peak, and drip In the garden-bed, and fill All the cuckoo-cups, and pour More and more In the tulip-bowls, and still Overspill In a crystal tide until Every yellow daffodil Is flooded to its golden rim, and br.i.m.m.i.n.g o'er and o'er!

Then as gently as the low m.u.f.fled whir of robin wings, Or a sweep of silver strings, Even so, Take your airy April flight Through the merry April light, And melt into a mist of rainy music as you go!

FAIRIES

Grandfather says that sometimes, When stars are twinkling and A new moon s.h.i.+nes, there come times When folks see fairy-land!

So when there's next a new moon, I mean to watch all night!

Grandfather says a blue moon Is best for fairy light,

And in a peach-bloom, maybe, If I look I shall see A little fairy baby No bigger than a bee!

THE LITTLE FIR-TREES

Hey! little evergreens, St.u.r.dy and strong!

Summer and autumn time Hasten along; Harvest the sunbeams, then, Bind them in sheaves, Range them, and change them To tufts of green leaves.

Delve in the mellow mold, Far, far below, And so, Little evergreens, grow!

Grow, grow!

Grow, little evergreens, grow!

Up, up so airily To the blue sky, Lift up your leafy tips Stately and high; Clasp tight your tiny cones, Tawny and brown; By and by, buffeting Rains will pelt down; By and by, bitterly Chill winds will blow; And so, Little evergreens, grow!

Grow, grow!

Grow, little evergreens, grow!

Gather all uttermost Beauty, because,-- Hark, till I tell it now!

How Santa Claus, Out of the northern land, Over the seas, Soon shall come seeking you, Evergreen trees!

Seek you with reindeer soon, Over the snow; And so, Little evergreens, grow!

Grow, grow!

Grow, little evergreens, grow!

What if the maples flare Flaunting and red, You shall wear waxen white Tapers instead!

What if now, otherwhere, Birds are beguiled, You shall yet nestle The little Christ-child!

Ah! the strange splendor The fir-trees shall know!

And so, Little evergreens, grow!

Grow, grow!

Grow, little evergreens, grow!

THE WREN-HOUSE

Yesterday I took my saw And some bits of wood, And I made a little house Nicely as I could.

I put on a mossy-green Little pointed roof, And I cut a tiny door That is p.u.s.s.y-proof.

For I hope some little wrens To our yard will come And will choose my little house For their little home.

I shall hang it in the boughs Of the apple-tree, And I'm sure as rent for it They will sing to me!

THE BABY'S RIDE

Chee! Chee! Chickadee!

Sing-time and sun!

Aye, aye, baby-bye, Springtime has begun!

In the little willow cart, On a downy bed, Pretty parasol of silk Swinging overhead,

Let us go along the lane Where a baby sees Mighty tufts of gra.s.s, and weeds Tall as forest trees!

Bluebird on the apple-bough, Sing and sing and sing!

Sing your very sweetest now For babyhood and spring!

"Bah! Bah!" from the pasture, And "Caw! Caw!" from the crow, And bleating from the little calf That has not learned to low.

Apple-buds, apple-buds breaking apart, The baby looks upward with love-laden gaze; Oh, shower some petals down here in his cart, One honey-sweet cl.u.s.ter of pretty pink sprays!

Apple-buds, apple-buds, scornful and too Vain of your loveliness, stay where you are!

The cheeks of the baby are pinker than you, And finer and softer and sweeter by far!