How Do I Love Thee?
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How Do I Love Thee? is one of her most recognized poems, published in Barrett's collection of 44 love poems titled Sonnets from the Portuguese (1850)
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
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Mary Had a Little Lamb
by Mother Goose
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
He followed, her to school one day;
That was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.
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The Fox and the cat
By Aesop
Once a Cat and a Fox were traveling together. As they went along, picking up provisions on the way—a stray mouse here, a fat chicken there—they began an argument to while away the time between bites. And, as usually happens when comrades argue, the talk began to get personal.
"You think you are extremely clever, don't you?" said the Fox. "Do you pretend to know more than I? Why, I know a whole sackful of tricks!"
"Well," retorted the Cat, "I admit I know one trick only, but that one, let me tell you, is worth a thousand of yours!"
Just then, close by, they heard a hunter's horn and the yelping of a pack of hounds. In an instant the Cat was up a tree, hiding among the leaves.
"This is my trick," he called to the Fox. "Now let me see what yours are worth."
But the Fox had so many plans for escape he could not decide which one to try first. He dodged here and there with the hounds at his heels. He doubled on his tracks, he ran at top speed, he entered a dozen burrows,—but all in vain. The hounds caught him, and soon put an end to the boaster and all his tricks.
Common sense is always worth more than cunning.
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Three little birds in a row
by Stephen Crane
Stephen Crane wrote, "I suppose I ought to be thankful to The Red Badge, but I am much fonder of my little book of poems, The Black Rider in which this poem was published in 1926
Three little birds in a row Sat musing. A man passed near that place. Then did the little birds nudge each other. They said, "He thinks he can sing." They threw back their heads to laugh. With quaint countenances They regarded him. They were very curious, Those three little birds in a row.
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Star Light, Star Bright
by Anonymous
Star Light, Star Bright is a superstitious chant to bring good luck, said after seeing a falling or shooting star, or the first star of the evening. This tradition of wishing on a star for good luck probably dates back to the ancient world.
Star light, star bright, The first star I see tonight; I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight.
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Afternoon on a hill
I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.
I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down!
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Afternoon on a Hill
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
A lovely poem included in Ms. Millay's collection, Renascence and Other Poems (1917). It is studied by young elementary students to learn about poetic form and personification. All ages enjoy its simple expression of joy in nature!
I will be the gladdest thingUnder the sun!
I will touch a hundred
flowers And not pick one. I will look at cliffs and clouds With quiet eyes, Watch the wind blow
down the grass, And the grass rise. And when lights begin to show Up from the town, I will mark which must be mine, And then start down!
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A WRITER of Fables was passing through a lonely forest when he met a Fortune. Greatly alarmed, he tried to climb a tree, but the Fortune pulled him down and bestowed itself upon him with cruel persistence.
"Why did you try to run away?" said the Fortune, when his struggles had ceased and his screams were stilled. "Why do you glare at me so inhospitably?"
"I don't know what you are," replied the Writer of Fables, deeply disturbed.
"I am wealth; I am respectability," the Fortune explained; "I am elegant houses, a yacht, and a clean shirt every day. I am leisure, I am travel, wine, a shiny hat, and an unshiny coat. I am enough to eat."
"All right," said the Writer of Fables, in a whisper; "but for goodness' sake speak lower."
"Why so?" the Fortune asked, in surprise.
"So as not to wake me," replied the Writer of Fables, a holy calm brooding upon his beautiful face.
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