Songs of Womanhood. Alma-Tadema Laurence
the sea?
Gold-fish, gold-fish diving deep,
Are you never sad, say?
When you feel the cold waves creep
Are you really glad, say?
Don't you sometimes long to sing
And be a lark-bird on the wing?
Lambs:
O little lambs! the month is cold,
The sky is very gray;
You shiver in the misty grass
And bleat at all the winds that pass;
Wait! when I'm big – some day —
I'll build a roof to every fold.
But now that I am small, I'll pray
At mother's knee for you;
Perhaps the angels with their wings
Will come and warm you, little things;
I'm sure that, if God knew,
He'd let the lambs be born in May.
The Robin
When father takes his spade to dig,
Then Robin comes along;
He sits upon a little twig
And sings a little song.
Or, if the trees are rather far,
He does not stay alone,
But comes up close to where we are
And bobs upon a stone.
The Mouse
Little Master Mouse,
You'd better leave this house;
Crumbs are scarce upon the floor,
And pussy sleeps behind the door.
Mousie soft and grey,
I wish you'd run away!
Cook will catch you in a trap,
And mice mayn't sit in mother's lap…
The Bat
Bat, Bat, that flies at night
When angels' breath has blown the light,
When all the bees are hived in bed
And swallow sleeps with hidden head:
Songless bird! until this hour,
Among the bells in the ivied tower
Have you hung dreaming in your house?
Are you a living wingèd mouse? —
Bat, Bat, I often doubt;
And when I see you flit about,
I wonder if the dead birds roam
In circles round their nestlings' home…
The Swallow
O Swallow! if I had your wings
I would not stay below;
I'd leave off catching flies and things
And up to Heaven I'd go.
I'd sail above the tallest tree
That waves its arms on high;
Beyond the furthest cloud we see,
And deeper than the sky.
Perhaps, when live birds find the way,
They're all sent down again,
And that is why you dive to-day
For insects in the rain.
Snowdrops
Little ladies, white and green,
With your spears about you,
Will you tell us where you've been
Since we lived without you?
You are sweet, and fresh, and clean,
With your pearly faces;
In the dark earth where you've been
There are wondrous places:
Yet you come again, serene,
When the leaves are hidden;
Bringing joy from where you've been
You return unbidden —
Little ladies, white and green,
Are you glad to cheer us?
Hunger not for where you've been,
Stay till Spring be near us!
Frost
The flowers in the garden
Are very cold at night;
When I look out of window
Their beds are hard and white.
The primrose and the scilla,
The merry crocus too —
O Jane! if we were flowers,
What should we children do?
We'd have to sleep all naked
Beneath the windy trees;
Yet we should die, I know it,
With even a chemise…
Apples
Red cheeks, red cheeks,
Will you play with me?
No boy, pale boy,
I want to climb that tree.
Red cheeks, red cheeks,
You will tumble down —
No boy, pale boy,
I'll eat the apples brown.
Red cheeks, red cheeks,
Barns are best for rain —
No boy, pale boy,
I'll soon be down again.
Lonely Children
I
The trees are dusty in the Park,
The grass is hard and brown;
I'm glad I've got a Noah's ark,
But I'm sorry I'm in town.
A lot of little girls and boys
Are not so rich as me;
But O! I'd give them all my toys
For shells beside the sea…
II
The flowers are happy in the garden,
For the bees are always there;
The clouds are happy up in Heaven
With the angels in the air;
But little boy and little mouse
Are rather lonely in the house.
Playgrounds
In summer I am very glad
We children are so small,
For we can see a thousand things
That men can't see at all.
They don't know much about the moss
And all the stones