Songs Ysame

by Annie Fellows Johnston

Overview

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Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781977622563
Publisher:	CreateSpace Publishing
Publication date:	09/25/2017
Pages:	66
Product dimensions:	5.00(w) x 7.99(h) x 0.14(d)

Read an Excerpt

BOB WHITE. JUST now, beyond the turmoil and the din Of crowded streets that city walls shut in, I heard the whistle of a quail begin : " Bob White ! Bob White ! " So faintly and far away falling It seemed that a dream voice was calling " Bob White! Bob White !" How the old sights and sounds come thronging And thrill me with a sudden longing! Through quiet country lanes the sunset shines. Fence corners where the wild rose climbs and twines, And blooms in tangled black-berry vines, " Bob White ! Bob White ! " I envy yon home-going swallow, Oh, but swiftly to rise and follow Follow its flight, Follow it back with happy flying, Where green-clad hills are calmly lying. Wheat fields whose golden silences are stirred By whirring insect wings, and naught is heard But plaintive callings of that one sweet word, " Bob White ! Bob White ! " And a smell of the clover growing In the meadow lands ripe for mowing, All red and white. Over the shady creek comes sailing, Past willows in the water trailing. Tired heart, 'tis but in dreams I turn my feet, Again to wander in the ripening wheat And hear the whistle of the quail repeat " Bob White ! Bob White ! " But oh ! there is joy in the knowing That somewhere green pastures are growing, Though out of sight. And the light on those church spires dying, On the old home meadow is lying. GRANDFATHER. T T OW broad and deep was the fireplace old, And the great hearth-stone how wide ! There was always room for the old man's chair By the cosy chimney side, And all the children that cared to crowd At his knee in the evening-tide. Room for all of the homeless ones Who had nowhere else to go ; They might bask at ease in the grateful warmth And sun in thecheerful glow, For Grandfather's he...