the home book of verse-1-第12章
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That； Fragoletta； is the wind；
That rattles so the window…blind；
And yonder shining thing's a star；
Blue eyes … you seem ten times as far。
That； Fragoletta； is a bird
That speaks； yet never says a word；
Upon a cherry tree it sings；
Simple as all mysterious things；
Its little life to peck and pipe；
As long as cherries ripe and ripe；
And minister unto the need
Of baby…birds that feed and feed。
This； Fragoletta； is a flower；
Open and fragrant for an hour；
A flower； a transitory thing；
Each petal fleeting as a wing；
All a May morning blows and blows；
And then for everlasting goes。
IV
Blue eyes； against the whiteness pressed
Of little mother's hallowed breast；
The while your trembling lips are fed；
Look up at mother's bended head；
All benediction over you …
O blue eyes looking into blue！
Fragoletta is so small；
We wonder that she lives at all …
Tiny alabaster girl；
Hardly bigger than a pearl；
That is why we take such care；
Lest some one run away with her。
Richard Le Gallienne ＇1866…
CHOOSING A NAME
I have got a new…born sister：
I was nigh the first that kissed her。
When the nursing…woman brought her
To papa； his infant daughter；
How papa's dear eyes did glisten！
She will shortly be to christen；
And papa has made the offer；
I shall have the naming of her。
Now I wonder what would please her； …
Charlotte； Julia； or Louisa？
Ann and Mary； they're too common；
Joan's too formal for a woman；
Jane's a prettier name beside；
But we had a Jane that died。
They would say； if 'twas Rebecca；
That she was a little Quaker。
Edith's pretty； but that looks
Better in old English books；
Ellen's left off long ago；
Blanche is out of fashion now。
None that I have named as yet
Is so good as Margaret。
Emily is neat and fine；
What do you think of Caroline？
How I'm puzzled and perplexed
What to choose or think of next！
I am in a little fever
Lest the name that I should give her
Should disgrace her or defame her； …
I will leave papa to name her。
Mary Lamb ＇1764…1847＇
WEIGHING THE BABY
〃How many pounds does the baby weigh …
Baby who came but a month ago？
How many pounds from the crowning curl
To the rosy point of the restless toe？〃
Grandfather ties the 'kerchief knot；
Tenderly guides the swinging weight；
And carefully over his glasses peers
To read the record； 〃only eight。〃
Softly the echo goes around：
The father laughs at the tiny girl；
The fair young mother sings the words；
While grandmother smooths the golden curl。
And stooping above the precious thing；
Nestles a kiss within a prayer；
Murmuring softly 〃Little one；
Grandfather did not weigh you fair。〃
Nobody weighed the baby's smile；
Or the love that came with the helpless one；
Nobody weighed the threads of care；
From which a woman's life is spun。
No index tells the mighty worth
Of a little baby's quiet breath …
A soft； unceasing metronome；
Patient and faithful until death。
Nobody weighed the baby's soul；
For here on earth no weights there be
That could avail； God only knows
Its value in eternity。
Only eight pounds to hold a soul
That seeks no angel's silver wing；
But shrines it in this human guise；
Within so frail and small a thing！
Oh； mother！ laugh your merry note；
Be gay and glad； but don't forget
From baby's eyes looks out a soul
That claims a home in Eden yet。
Ethel Lynn Beers ＇1827…1879＇
ETUDE REALISTE
I
A baby's feet； like seashells pink；
Might tempt； should heaven see meet；
An angel's lips to kiss； we think；
A baby's feet。
Like rose…hued sea…flowers toward the heat
They stretch and spread and wink
Their ten soft buds that part and meet。
No flower…bells that expand and shrink
Gleam half so heavenly sweet；
As shine on life's untrodden brink
A baby's feet。
II
A baby's hands； like rosebuds furled；
Where yet no leaf expands；
Ope if you touch； though close upcurled； …
A baby's hands。
Then； even as warriors grip their brands
When battle's bolt is hurled；
They close； clenched hard like tightening bands。
No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
Match； even in loveliest lands；
The sweetest flowers in all the world； …
A baby's hands。
III
A baby's eyes； ere speech begin；
Ere lips learn words or sighs；
Bless all things bright enough to win
A baby's eyes。
Love； while the sweet thing laughs and lies；
And sleep flows out and in；
Sees perfect in them Paradise！
Their glance might cast out pain and sin；
Their speech make dumb the wise；
By mute glad godhead felt within
A baby's eyes。
Algernon Charles Swinburne ＇1837…1909＇
LITTLE FEET
Two little feet； so small that both may nestle
In one caressing hand； …
Two tender feet upon the untried border
Of life's mysterious land。
Dimpled； and soft； and pink as peach…tree blossoms；
In April's fragrant days；
How can they walk among the briery tangles；
Edging the world's rough ways？
These rose…white feet； along the doubtful future；
Must bear a mother's load；
Alas！ since Woman has the heavier burden；
And walks the harder road。
Love； for a while； will make the path before them
All dainty； smooth； and fair； …
Will cull away the brambles； letting only
The roses blossom there。
But when the mother's watchful eyes are shrouded
Away from sight of men；
And these dear feet are left without her guiding；
Who shall direct them then？
How will they be allured； betrayed； deluded；
Poor little untaught feet！
Into what dreary mazes will they wander；
What dangers will they meet？
Will they go stumbling blindly in the darkness
Of Sorrow's tearful shades？
Or find the upland slopes of Peace and Beauty；
Whose sunlight never fades？
Will they go toiling up Ambition's summit；
The common world above？
Or in some nameless vale； securely sheltered；
Walk side by side with Love？
Some feet there be which walk Life's track unwounded；
Which find but pleasant ways：
Some hearts there be to which this life is only
A round of happy days。
But these are few。 Far more there are who wander
Without a hope or friend； …
Who find their journey full of pains and losses；
And long to reach the end。
How shall it be with her； the tender stranger；
Fair…faced and gentle…eyed；
Before whose unstained feet the world's rude highway
Stretches so fair and wide？
Ah！ who may read the future？ For our darling
We crave all blessings sweet；
And pray that He who feeds the crying ravens
Will guide the baby's feet。
Elizabeth Akers ＇1832…1911＇
THE BABIE
Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes；
Nae stockin' on her feet；
Her supple ankles white as snaw；
Or early blossoms sweet。
Her simple dress o' sprinkled pink；
Her double； dimplit chin；
Her puckered lips； an' baumy mou'；
With na ane tooth within。
Her een sae like her mither's een；
Twa gentle； liquid things；
Her face is like an angel's face； …
We're glad she has nae wings。
She is the buddin' of our luve；
A giftie God gied us：
We maun na luve the gift owre weel；
'Twad be nae blessin' thus。
We still maun luve the Giver mair；
An' see Him in the given；
An' sae she'll lead us up to Him；
Our babie straight frae Heaven。
Jeremiah Eames Rankin ＇1828…1904＇
LITTLE HANDS
Soft little hands that stray and clutch；
Like fern fronds curl and uncurl bold；
While baby faces lie in such
Close sleep as flowers at night that fold；
What is it you would； clasp and hold；
Wandering outstretched with wilful touch？
O fingers small of shell…tipped rose；
How should you know you hold so much？
Two full hearts beating you inclose；
Hopes； fears； prayers； longings； joys and woes； …
All yours to hold； O little hands！
More； more than wisdom understands
And love； love only knows。
Laurence Binyon ＇1869…
BARTHOLOMEW
Bartholomew is very sweet；
From sandy hair to rosy feet。
Bartholomew is six months old；
And dearer far than pearls or gold。
Bartholomew has deep blue eyes；
Round pieces dropped from out the skies。
Bartholomew is hugged and kissed：
He loves a flower in either fist。
Bartholomew's my saucy son：
No mother has a sweeter one！
Norman Gale ＇1862…
THE STORM…CHILD
My child came to me with the equinox；
The wild wind blew him to my swinging door；
With flakes of tawny foam from off the shore；
And shivering spindrift whirled across the rocks。
Flung down the sky； the wheeling swallow…flocks
Cried him a greeting； and the lordly woods；
Waving lean arms of welcome one by one；
Cast down their russet cloaks and golden hoods；
And bid their dancing leaflets trip and run
Before the tender feet of this my son。
Therefore the sea's swift fire is in his veins；
And in his heart the glory of the sea；
Therefore the storm…wind shall his comrade be；
That strips the hills and sweeps the cowering plains。
October； shot with flashing rays and rains；
Inhabits all his pulses； he shall know
The stress and splendor of the roaring gales；
The creaking boughs shall croon him fairy tales；
And the sea's kisses set his blood aglow；
While in his ears the eternal bugles blow。
May Byron ＇1861…
〃ON PARENT KNEES〃
On parent knees； a naked new…born child；
Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled：
So live； that； sinking to thy life's last sleep；
Calm thou may'st smile； while all around thee weep。
William Jones ＇1746…1794＇
〃PHILIP； MY KING〃
〃Who bears upon his baby brow the round and top of sovereignty。〃
Look at me with thy large brown eyes；
Philip； my king！
Round whom the enshadowing purple lies
Of babyhood's royal dignities。
Lay on my neck thy tiny hand
With love's invisible scepter laden；
I am thine Esther to command
Till thou shalt find a queen…handmaiden；
Philip； my king。
O the day when thou goest a…wooing；
Philip； my king！
When those beautiful lips are suing；
And some gentle heart's bars undoing；
Thou dost enter； love…crowned； and there
Sittest love…glorified。 Rule kindly；
Tenderly； over thy kingdom fair；
For we that love； ah！ we love so blindly；
Philip； my king。
Up from thy sweet mouth； … up to thy brow；
Philip； my king！
The spirit that there lies sleeping now
May rise like a giant and make men bow
As to one heaven…chosen among his peers。
My Saul； than thy brethren taller and fairer；
Let me behold thee in future years！ …
Yet thy head needeth a circlet rarer；
Philip； my king。
… A wreath not of gold； but palm。 One day；
Philip； my king！
Thou too must tread； as we trod； a way
Thorny and cruel and cold and gray：
Rebels within thee； and foes without；
Will snatch at thy crown。 But mar
