#RhymedStanza
I planted a hand And there came up a palm, I planted a heart And there came up balm. Then I planted a wish,
You must not call me Maggie, you… For I’m Lady of the Manor now st… And if there comes a babe, as ther… 'Twill be little lord or lady at m… Oh, but what ails you, my sailor c…
Why did baby die, Making Father sigh, Mother cry? Flowers, that bloom to die, Make no reply
In the bleak mid—winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Baby cry — Oh fie! — At the physic in the cup: Gulp it twice And gulp it thrice,
Bread and milk for breakfast, And woollen frocks to wear, And a crumb for robin redbreast On the cold days of the year.
In the meadow —what in the meadow? Bluebells, buttercups, meadowsweet… And fairy rings for the children’s… In the meadow. In the garden —what in the garden?
Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.
Three little children On the wide wide earth, Motherless children— Cared for from their birth By tender angels.
Under the ivy bush One sits sighing, And under the willow tree One sits crying: — Under the ivy bush
Our little baby fell asleep, And may not wake again For days and days, and weeks and w… But then he’ll wake again, And come with his own pretty look,
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me
O wind, where have you been, That you blow so sweet? Among the violets Which blossom at your feet. The honeysuckle waits
It’s a weary life, it is, she said… Doubly blank in a woman’s lot: I wish and I wish I were a man: Or, better then any being, were no… Were nothing at all in all the wor…
Summer is gone with all its roses, Its sun and perfumes and sweet flo… Its warm air and refreshing shower… And even Autumn closes. Yea, Autumn’s chilly self is goin…