Ducks' Ditty by Kenneth Grahame

Claire adores this poem and nearly had it memorized after only 3-4 hearings.  Though Kenneth Grahame is not known for his poetry, (and therefore is not one of our assigned poets),we will be reading several of his stories. 



Yes, I realize they are actually goslings.

Ducks' Ditty

All along the backwater,
Through the rushes tall,
Ducks are a-dabbling,
Up tails all!

Ducks' tails, drakes' tails,
Yellow feet a-quiver,
Yellow bills all out of sight
Busy in the river!

Slushy green undergrowth
Where the roch swim--
Here we keep our larder,
Cool and full and dim.

Every one for what he likes!
We like to be
Heads down, tailsup,
Dabbling free!

High in the blue above
Swifts whirl and call--
We are down a-dabbling
Up tails all!



Lady Moon by Lord Houghton

Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?
     Over the sea.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?
     All that love me.
Are you not tired with rolling, and never resting to sleep?
Why look so pale and so sad, as forever wishing to weep?

Ask me not this, little child, if you love me;
     You are too bold.
I must obey the dear Father above me,
    And do as I'm told.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?
     Over the sea.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?
     All that love me.

The Little Turtle by Vachel Lindsay

There was a little turtle.
He lived in a box.
He swam in a puddle.
He climbed on the rocks.
He snapped at a mosquito.
He snapped at a flea.
He snapped at a minnow.
And he snapped at me.
He caught the mosquito.
He caught the flea.
He caught the minnow.
But he didn't catch me.

If I Knew by Maud Wyman

If I knew a box where the smiles are kept,

No matter how large the key

Or strong the bolt, I would try so hard

'Twould open, I know, for me;

Then over the land and the sea broadcast,

I'd scatter the smiles to play,

That the children's faces might hold them fast

For many and many a day.

If I knew a box that was large enough
To hold all the frowns I meet,
I would like to gather them every one,
From the nursery, school, and street;
Then folding and holding, I'd pack them in
And turning the monster key,
I'd hire a giant to drop the box
To the depths of the deep, deep sea.

A Diamond Or A Coal by Christina Rossetti

A diamond or a coal?

A diamond if you please.

Who cares about a clumsy coal

Beneath the summer trees.

A diamond or a coal?

A coal sir, if you please;

One comes to care about the coal

At times when waters freeze.

Brown And Furry by Christina Rossetti

Brown and furry

Caterpillar in a hurry,

Take your walk

To the shady leaf, or stalk,

Or what not,

Which may be the chosen spot

No toad spy you,

Hovering bird of prey pass by you;

Spin and die,

To live again a butterfly.

If A Pig Wore A Wig by Christina Rossetti

If a pig wore a wig,

What could we say?

Treat him as a gentleman,

And say, "Good day."

If his tail chanced to fail,

What could we do?

Send him to the tailoress

To get one new.

What Is Pink by Christina Rossetti



What is pink?  A rose is pink,
By the fountain's brink.

What is red?  A poppy's red,

In its barley bed.







What is blue?  The sky is blue,
Where the clouds float through.





What is white?  A swan is white,
Sailing in the light.









What is yellow?  Pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.



What is green?  The grass is green,
With small flower between.





What is violet?  Clouds are violet,
In the summer twilight.

What is orange?  Why, an orange,
Just an orange!

When the Frost Is On the Punkin/ James Whitcomb Riley

We studied two poets this term: Eugene Field and James Whicomb Riley.  We spent most of the term on Eugene Field poetry and the selection that Claire chose to memorize was very long.  Therefore, we only spent three weeks on James Whitcomb Riley.  With such limited time, we decided to only memorize the first stanza of this poem.  The coloquial pronunciation makes this poet much more difficult to recite than other poets--almost like memorizing in a foreign language.  We had fun with it, though.

We actually grew these "punkins."
What great jack-o-lanterns they made!

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,

And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,

And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes to the fence;
O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bare-headed, and goes to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The Fly Away Horse by Eugene Field

Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse--
Perhaps you have seen him before;
Perhaps, while you slept, his shadow has swept
Through the moonlight that floats on the floor.
For it's only at night, when the stars twinkle bright,
That the Fly-Away Horse, with a neigh
And a pull at his rein and a toss of his mane,
Is up on his heels and away!
The moon in the sky,
As he gallopeth by,
Cries:  "Oh! what a marvellous sight!"
And the stars in dismay
Hide their faces away
In the lap of old Grandmother Night.
It is yonder, out yonder, the Fly-Away horse
Speedeth ever and ever away

Over meadows and lanes, over mountains and plains,

Over streamlets that sing at their play;

And over the sea like a ghost sweepeth he,

While the ships they go sailing below,

And he speedeth so fast that the men at the mast

Adjudge him some portent of woe.

"What ho there!" they cry,

As he flourishes by

With a whisk of his beautiful tail;

And the fish in the sea

Are as scared as can be,

From the nautilus up to the whale!

November by Alice Cary

The leaves are fading and falling,
  The winds are rough and wild,
The birds have ceased their calling,
  But let me tell you, my child,
Though day by day, as it closes,
  Doth darker and colder grow,
The root of the bright red roses
  Will keep alive in the snow.
And when the winter is over,
  The boughs will get new leaves,
The quail will come back to the clover,
  And the swallow back to the eaves.
The robin will wear on his bosom
  A vest that is bright and new,
And the loveliest wayside blossoms
  Will shine with the sun and dew.
The leaves today are whirling,

  The brooks are all dry and dumb,
But let me tell you, my darling,
  The spring will be sure to come.
There must be rough, cold weather,
  And winds and rains so wild;
Not all good things together
  Come to us here, my child.
So, when some dear joy loses
  Its beauteous summer glow
Think how the roots of the roses
  Are kept alive in the snow.

The Brown Thrush by Lucy Larcom

"There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree;
He's singing to me!  He's singing to me!"
And what does he say, little girl, little boy?
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!
      Don't you hear?  Don't you see?
      Hush!  Look!  In my tree,
I'm as happy as happy can be!"
And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see,
And five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree?
Don't meddle!  Don't touch! little girl, little boy,
Or the world will lose some of its joy!
      Now I'm glad!  Now I'm free!
      And I always shall be,
If you never bring sorrow to me."
So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree,

To you and to me, to you and to me;
And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy,
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!
      But long it won't be,
      Don't you know?  Don't you see?
Unless we are as good as can be."

The Horseman by Walter De La Mare

Charm's birthday party

We weren't overly impressed with any of Walter's poems.  Most were alright to read, but none presented itself as a great candidate for memorization.  Claire picked this one because of the subject matter.

The Horseman

I heard a horseman
Ride over the hill;
The moon shone clear,
The night was still;
His helm was silver,
And pale was he;
And the horse he rode
Was of ivory.

A Secret

We have a secret, just we three,

The robin and I and the sweet cherry tree;

The bird told the tree, and the tree told me,

And nobody knows it but just us three.

But of course the robin knows it best,

Because she built the ---- I shan't tell the rest,

And laid the four little --- somethings in it---

I'm afraid I shall tell it every minute.

My Shadow by Robert Louis Stevenson

Claire Bear Shadow

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--
Not at all like proper children which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like and india-rubber ball,
And sometimes gets so little that ther's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast alseep in bed.

Daffodowndilly by A. A. Milne

Drawing by Makenna Talbott

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,

She wore her greenest gown;

She turned to the south wind

And curtsied up and down.

She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

Andwhispered to her neighbor:

"Winter is dead."

Halfway Down by A. A. Milne

Halfway down the stairs is a stair where I sit
There isn't any other stair quite like It.
I'm not at the bottom, I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair where I always stop.
Halfway up the stairs isn't up isn't down
It isn't in the nursery, it isn't in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts run round my head:
"It isn't really anywhere!  It's somewhere else instead!"

Baby Seed Song by Edith Nesbit

Dandelion Seeds

Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother,
Are you awake in the dark?
Here we lie cosily, close to each other:
Hark to the song of the lark
"Awaken!" the lark says, "waken and dress you;
Put on your green coats and gay,
Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you
Waken! 'tis morning  'tis May!"
Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother,
What kind of flower will you be?
I'll be a pooppy all white like my mother;
Do be a poppy like me.
What!  You're a sunflower!
How I shall miss you
When you're grown golden and high!
But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you;
Little brown brother, good-bye.

Time To Rise by Robert Louis Stevenson

Helena and Bitey

A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon the window sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
"Ain't you 'shamed you sleepy head?"

Tumbling author anonymous

Cartwheeling

In jumping and tumbling
We spend our whole day,
Till night by arriving
Has finished our play.
What then?  ONe and all,
There's no more to be said,
As we tumbled all day,
So we tumble to bed.