When our babe he goeth walking in… Around his tinkling feet the sunbe… The posies they are good to him, And bow them as they should to him… As fareth he upon his kingly way;

Nay, why discuss this summer heat, Of which vain people tell? Oh, sinner, rather were it meet To fix thy thoughts on hell! The punishment ordained for you

You ask me, friend, Why I don’t send The long since due-and-paid-for nu… Why, songless, I As drunken lie

My garden aboundeth in pleasant no… And fragrance is over it all; For sweet is the smell of my old,… In their places against the wall. Here is a folio that’s grim with a…

Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Sou… The evening shades are falling,— Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not… The voice of the Master calling? Deep lies the snow upon the earth,

The hero of Affairs of love By far too numerous to be mentione… And scarred as I’m, It seemeth time

See, what a wonderful garden is he… Planted and trimmed for my Little… Posies so gaudy and grass of such… Search ye the country and hunt ye… And never ye’ll meet with a garden…

Fair is the castle up on the hill— Hushaby, sweet my own! The night is fair, and the waves a… And the wind is singing to you and… In this lowly home beside the sea—

Marcus Varro went up and down The places where old books were so… He ransacked all the shops in town For pictures new and pictures old. He gave the folk of earth no peace…

Hush, little one, and fold your ha… The sun hath set, the moon is high… The sea is singing to the sands, And wakeful posies are beguiled By many a fairy lullaby:

Little Miss Brag has much to say To the rich little lady from over… And the rich little lady puts out… As she looks at her own white, dai… And wishes that she could wear a g…

Prate, ye who will, of so-called c… The land of stoves and sunshine is… I’ve done the grand for fourteen m… And I’ve learned a heap of learni… And the biggest bit of wisdom I’v…

Play that you are mother dear, And play that papa is your beau; Play that we sit in the corner her… Just as we used to, long ago. Playing so, we lovers two

One night a tiny dewdrop fell Into the bosom of a rose,— “Dear little one, I love thee wel… Be ever here thy sweet repose!” Seeing the rose with love bedight,

Up yonder in Buena Park There is a famous spot, In legend and in history Yclept the Waller Lot. There children play in daytime