Poetry is the chosen language of childhood and youth. The baby repeats words again and again for the mere joy of their sound: the melody of nursery rhymes gives a delight which is quite independent of the meaning of the words. Not until youth approaches maturity is there an equal pleasure in the rounded periods of elegant prose. It is in childhood therefore that the young mind should be stored with poems whose rhythm will be a present delight and whose beautiful thoughts will not lose their charm in later years.
The swift and fearless swallows fly.
We heard the speckle-breasted lark
As it sang somewhere out of sight, 20 And tried to find it, but the sky
Was filled with clouds of dazzling light.
We saw young rabbits near the woods
And heard the pheasant's wings go "whir";
And then we saw a squirrel leap 5 From an old oak tree to a fir.
We came back by the village fields,
A pleasant walk it was across 'em,
For all behind the houses lay
The orchards red and white with blossom. 10
Were I to tell you all we saw,
I'm sure that it would take me hours;
For the whole landscape was alive
With bees, and birds, and buds, and flowers.
"Over Hill, Over Dale"
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire.
I do wander everywhere, 5 Swifter than the moone's sphere.
And I serve the F
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