If this little world to-night Suddenly should fall through space In a hissing, headlong flight, Shrivelling from off its face, As it falls into the sun, In an instant every trace Of the little crawling things— Ants, philosophers, and lice, Cattle, cockroaches, and kings, Beggars, millionaires, and mice, Men and maggots,—all as one As it falls into the sun,— Who can say but at the same Instant from some planet far A child may watch us and exclaim: “See the pretty shooting star!”
Very dark the autumn sky, Dark the clouds that hurried by; Very rough the autumn breeze Shouting rudely to the trees. Listening, frightened, pale, and cold, Through the withered leaves and mold Peered a violet all in dread— “Where, oh, where is spring?” she said. Sighed the trees, “Poor...
“oh dear! is Summer over?” I heard a rosebud moan, When first her eyes she opened, And found she was alone. “Oh, why did Summer leave me, Little me, belated? Where are the other roses? I think they might have waited.” Soon the little rosebud Saw to her surprise Other rosebuds opening...
Under a toadstool Crept a wee Elf, Out of the rain, To shelter himself. Under the toadstool, Sound asleep, Sat a big Dormouse All in a heap. Trembled the wee Elf, Frightened, and yet Fearing to fly away Lest he get wet. To the next shelter— Maybe a mile! Sudden the wee Elf Smiled...
This, children, is the famed Mon-goos. He has an ap-pe-tite ab-struse: Strange to re-late, this crea-ture takes A cu-ri-ous joy in eat-ing snakes— All kinds—though, it must be con-fessed, He likes the poi-son-ous ones the best. From him we learn how ve-ry small A thing can bring a-bout a Fall. O...
Under a toadstool Crept a wee Elf, Out of the rain, To shelter himself. Under the toadstool, Sound asleep, Sat a big Dormouse All in a heap. Trembled the wee Elf, Frightened, and yet Fearing to fly away Lest he get wet. To the next shelter— Maybe a mile! Sudden the wee Elf Smiled...
