File:Poems my children love best of all (1917) (14593841957).jpg

Identifier: poemsmychildren00john (find matches)
Title: Poems my children love best of all
Year: 1917 (1910s)
Authors: Johnson, Clifton, 1865-1940, ed
Subjects: Children's poetry. (from old catalog)
Publisher: New York, L. A. Noble
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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certainly, we have no cause for alarm;For, were they to try, they could do us no harm. 124 Little Folks Book of Verse Now look! it has got to its home; do you seeWhat a delicate web it has spun in the tree?Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you;Come learn from this spider what patience can do! And when at your work you are tempted to play,Recollect what you see in this insect today.Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,That a poor spider is wiser than you. Jane Taylor. THE FOX AND THE CROW To a dairy a crow Having ventured to go,Some food for her young ones to seek, Flew up in the trees With a fine piece of cheeseWhich she joyfully held in her beak. A fox who lived nighTo the tree saw her fly, And to share in the prize made a vow!For having just dinedHe for cheese felt inclined;So he went and sat under the bough. She was cunning, he knew, But so was he, too,And with flattery adapted his plan; For he knew if shed speak It must fall from her beak.So, bowing politely, began;
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The Clouds The Clouds 125 Tis a very fine day; (Not a word did she say)The wind, I believe, maam, is south. A fine harvest for peas. He then looked at the cheese,But the crow did not open her mouth. Sly Reynard, not tired, Her plumage admired,And said: Ah, how brilliant its hue! The voice must be fine Of a bird so divine!Now let me just hear it—pray do! Believe me, I long To hear a sweet song.Then to sing the crow foolishly tries; But no sooner did squall Than the cheese she let fall,And the fox ran away with the prize. Bernard Barton. THE CLOUDS Boats sail on the rivers, And ships sail on the seas;But clouds that sail across the sky Are prettier far than these. Christina G. Rossetti. 126 Little Folks Book of Verse A WINTER VISITOR Come here, little sparrow, and dont be afraid, I would not harm even a feather;Come here, little sparrow, and pick up some bread To feed you this very cold weather. I dont mean to hurt you, you poor little dear, And pussy cat is not behind me;So hop about

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