As one who strives a hill to climb… Who never climbed before: Who finds it, in a little time, Grow every moment less sublime, And votes the thing a bore:

Matilda Jane, you never look At any toy or picture—book. I show you pretty things in vain You must be blind, Matilda Jane! I ask you riddles, tell you tales,

He thought he saw an Elephant That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. “At length I realize,” he said,

When on the sandy shore I sit, Beside the salt sea—wave, And fall into a weeping fit Because I dare not shave — A little whisper at my ear

“OH, when I was a little Ghost, A merry time had we! Each seated on his favourite post, We chumped and chawed the buttered… They gave us for our tea.”

I’ll tell thee everything I can; There’s little to relate, I saw an aged, aged man, A—sitting on a gate. ‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said.

In winter, when the fields are whi… I sing this song for your delight. In Spring, when woods are getting… I’ll try and tell you what I mean… In Summer, when the days are long…

“AND did you really walk,” said… “On such a wretched night? I always fancied Ghosts could fly… If not exactly in the sky, Yet at a fairish height.”

How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! How cheerfully he seems to grin

“SISTER, sister, go to bed! Go and rest your weary head.” Thus the prudent brother said. “Do you want a battered hide, Or scratches to your face applied?…

Blow, blow your trumpets till they… Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back - Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on sh… Fill all the air with hungry wails…

Little maidens, when you look On this little story—book, Reading with attentive eye Its enticing history, Never think that hours of play