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Rhymes for the Young Folk
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To join in our lay!
Where's Evey? where's Evey?
She's lost in the fog;
Go seek her, go find her,
With man and with dog.
No, here she is! here she is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Henry? where's Henry?
Poor Henry's afloat;
The sea-waves all round him,
High tossing his boat.
No, here he is! here he is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing
To join in our lay!
Where's Charley? where's Charley?
In China dwells he;
He wears a long pig-tail,
Perpetually drinks tea.
No, here he is! here he is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Johnny? where's Johnny?
In Nubia, I know;
He has climb'd a tall palm-tree, —
A lion's below.
No, here he is! here he is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Mary? where's Mary?
Young Mary's asleep;
And round her white pillow
The little dreams creep.
No, here she is! here she is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Bertha? where's Bertha?
She has wings – she can fly!
She has flown to the bright moon —
Look up there and spy!
No, here she is! here she is!
Happy and gay;
With sinking and ringing,
To join in our lay!
[AD INFINITUM.]
THE BIRD
"Birdie, Birdie, will you pet?
Summer-time is far away yet,
You'll have silken quilts and a velvet bed,
And a pillow of satin for your head!"
"I'd rather sleep in the ivy wall;
No rain comes through, tho' I hear it fall;
The sun peeps gay at dawn of day,
And I sing, and wing away, away!"
"O Birdie, Birdie, will you pet?
Diamond-stones and amber and jet
We'll string for a necklace fair and fine
To please this pretty bird of mine!"
"O thanks for diamonds, and thanks for jet,
But here is something daintier yet, —
A feather-necklace round and round,
That I wouldn't sell for a thousand pound!"
"O Birdie, Birdie, won't you pet?
We'll buy you a dish of silver fret,
A golden cup and an ivory seat,
And carpets soft beneath your feet!"
"Can running water be drunk from gold?
Can a silver dish the forest hold?
A rocking twig is the finest chair,
And the softest paths lie through the air, —
Good-bye, good-bye to my lady fair!"
WISHING
Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose,
Where's Evey? where's Evey?
She's lost in the fog;
Go seek her, go find her,
With man and with dog.
No, here she is! here she is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Henry? where's Henry?
Poor Henry's afloat;
The sea-waves all round him,
High tossing his boat.
No, here he is! here he is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing
To join in our lay!
Where's Charley? where's Charley?
In China dwells he;
He wears a long pig-tail,
Perpetually drinks tea.
No, here he is! here he is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Johnny? where's Johnny?
In Nubia, I know;
He has climb'd a tall palm-tree, —
A lion's below.
No, here he is! here he is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Mary? where's Mary?
Young Mary's asleep;
And round her white pillow
The little dreams creep.
No, here she is! here she is!
Happy and gay;
With singing and ringing,
To join in our lay!
Where's Bertha? where's Bertha?
She has wings – she can fly!
She has flown to the bright moon —
Look up there and spy!
No, here she is! here she is!
Happy and gay;
With sinking and ringing,
To join in our lay!
[AD INFINITUM.]
THE BIRD
"Birdie, Birdie, will you pet?
Summer-time is far away yet,
You'll have silken quilts and a velvet bed,
And a pillow of satin for your head!"
"I'd rather sleep in the ivy wall;
No rain comes through, tho' I hear it fall;
The sun peeps gay at dawn of day,
And I sing, and wing away, away!"
"O Birdie, Birdie, will you pet?
Diamond-stones and amber and jet
We'll string for a necklace fair and fine
To please this pretty bird of mine!"
"O thanks for diamonds, and thanks for jet,
But here is something daintier yet, —
A feather-necklace round and round,
That I wouldn't sell for a thousand pound!"
"O Birdie, Birdie, won't you pet?
We'll buy you a dish of silver fret,
A golden cup and an ivory seat,
And carpets soft beneath your feet!"
"Can running water be drunk from gold?
Can a silver dish the forest hold?
A rocking twig is the finest chair,
And the softest paths lie through the air, —
Good-bye, good-bye to my lady fair!"
WISHING
Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose,
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