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The Days of the MonthThirty days hath September,April, June, and November;February has twenty-eight alone.All the rest have thirty-one,Excepting leap-year—that’s the timeWhen February’s days are twenty-nine.Twinkle, Twinkle, Little StarTwinkle, twinkle, little star!How I wonder what you are,Up above the world so high,Like a diamond in the sky.When the glorious sun is set,When the grass with dew is wet,Then you show your little light,Twinkle, twinkle all the night.In the dark-blue sky you keep,And often through my curtains peep,For you never shut your eye,Till the sun is in the sky.As your bright and tiny sparkGuides the traveller in the dark,Though I know not what you are,Twinkle, twinkle, little star!Little White LilyLittle White LilySat by a stone,Drooping and waitingTill the sun shone.Little White LilySunshine has fed;Little White LilyIs lifting her head. Little White LilySaid: “It is goodLittle White Lily’sClothing and food.”Little White LilyDressed like a bride!Shining with whiteness,And crownèd beside!Little White LilyDrooping with pain,Waiting and waitingFor the wet rain.Little White LilyHoldeth her cup;Rain is fast fallingAnd filling it up.Little White LilySaid: “Good again,When I am thirstyTo have the nice rain.Now I am stronger,Now I am cool;Heat cannot burn me,My veins are so full.”Little White LilySmells very sweet;On her head sunshine,Rain at her feet. Thanks to the sunshine,Thanks to the rain,Little White LilyIs happy again.by GEORGE MACDONALD.How the Leaves Came Down“I’ll tell you how the leaves came down,” The great Tree to his children said:“You’re getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, Yes, very sleepy, little Red. It is quite time to go to bed.”“Ah!” begged each silly, pouting leaf, “Let us a little longer stay; Dear Father Tree, behold our grief! ’Tis such a very pleasant day, We do not want to go away.” So, for just one more merry day To the great Tree the leaflets clung, Frolicked and danced, and had their way, Upon the autumn breezes swung, Whispering all their sports among—“Perhaps the great Tree will forget, And let us stay until the spring, If we all beg, and coax, and fret.” But the great Tree did no such thing; He smiled to hear their whispering.“Come, children, all to bed,” he cried; And ere the leaves could urge their prayer, He shook his head, and far and wide, Fluttering and rustling everywhere, Down sped the leaflets through the air. I saw them; on the ground they lay, Golden and red, a huddled swarm,Waiting till one from far away, White bedclothes heaped upon her arm, Should come to wrap them safe and warm.The great bare Tree looked down and smiled. “Good-night, dear little leaves,” he said.And from below each sleepy child Replied, “Good-night,” and murmured, “It is so nice to go to bed!”By SUSAN COOLIDGE Five Little Chickens A traditional English rhymeSaid the first little chicken,With a strange little squirm,"I wish I could findA fat little worm."Said the second little chicken,With an odd little shrug,"I wish I could findA fat little bug."Said the third little chicken,With a sharp little squeal,"I wish I could findSome nice yellow meal.""Said the fourth little chicken,With a sigh of grief,"I wish I could findA little green leaf."Said the fifth little chicken,With a faint little moan,"I wish I could findA wee gravel stone.""Now see here," said the mother,From the green garden patch,"If you want any breakfast,Just come here and SCRATCH!"Four Seasons (Anonymous)Spring is showery, flowery, bowery.Summer: hoppy, choppy, poppy.Autumn: wheezy, sneezy, freezy.Winter: slippy, drippy, nippy.Weather (anonymous)Whether the weather be fineOr whether the weather be not,Whether the weather be coldOr whether the weather be hot,We'll weather the weatherWhatever the weather,Whether we like it or not. What Is Pink? by Christina RossettiWhat is pink? a rose is pinkBy the fountain's brink.What is red? a poppy's redIn its barley bed.What is blue? the sky is blueWhere the clouds float thro'.What is white? a swan is whiteSailing in the light.What is yellow? pears are yellow,Rich and ripe and mellow.What is green? the grass is green,With small flowers between.What is violet? clouds are violetIn the summer twilight.What is orange? why, an orange,Just an orange! If you stood with your feet in the earth Up to your ankles in grass And your arms had leaves running over them And every once in awhile one of your leafy fingers Was nudged by a bird flying past, If the skin that covers you from top to tip Wasn't skin at all, but bark And you never moved your feet from their place In the earth But stood rooted in one spot come Rain Wind Snow Sleet Thaw Spring Summer Winter Fall Blight Bug Day Dark Then you would be me: A tree. by Karla Kuskin from Any Me I Want to Be; Harper & Row, 1972 : ................
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