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ffiY FIRST POEMS 
 
(DY FI RST 00 E M S 
 
 'By 
 MARGARET HUNTINGTON 
 
 [1916] 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 the FRED S. LANG COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Copyright, 1916 
 
 "B V Margaret Huntington 
 
 •^^'?V^'' 
 
 
 / 
 
 m 19 1917 
 
 ©ClA4n3693 
 
G 
 
 HIS Book is one of a truly ^^ Limited 
 
 Edition ' ' of the little Author'' s poems. 
 
 ^ "^^^ ^ -' . 
 
 written when she was seven and ei^ht 
 years of age. We trust the reader will 
 enjoy the contents almost as much as did 
 
 Her Loving Father and Mother. 
 
Index 
 
 THE BRIGHT SUN / 
 
 THE SONG OF THE TREES // 
 
 THE MOON /// 
 
 THE WIND ly 
 
 SPRING y 
 
 THE FLOWER HOUSES VI 
 
 THE DOVES yii 
 
 THE WORLD'S BEAUTIES VIII 
 
 THE LAMBS /X 
 
 LENT X 
 
 THANKSGIVING xi 
 
 GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY XII 
 
c 
 
 ©HE ©RIGHT ©UN 
 
 HE sun awakes at early dawn 
 
 And never did I see him mourn, 
 For his bright face is always light 
 
 As 'round the world he turns in flight. 
 
 He wakes the birds, and flowers, too, 
 And little children just like you; 
 
 He gives the world a sunny light 
 
 And all the dull things, he makes bright. 
 
 And on a very rainy day 
 
 He says to the clouds in a very cross way, 
 ^Tm going to push with all my might 
 
 And give the world a bit of light." 
 
 [/] 
 
©HE @ONG OF C5HE ©REES 
 
 [fTritten for St. NICHOLAS LeAGUe] 
 
 T 
 
 HEAR the song of the trees 
 
 In the soft morning breeze. 
 The rustHng of their bright leaves 
 
 Makes music one ne'er beheves 
 Could come from Nature's voice, 
 
 So sweet is it, so clear, so choice. 
 For the lovely new leaves 
 
 Of the redwood trees 
 Clap their hands in glee 
 
 Because they are so free. 
 They swing their branches to and fro 
 
 In the soft west winds that blow, 
 And say to the world with its throng: 
 
 ^^O listen to my peaceful song!" 
 

 
 GHE CQOON 
 
 OD made the moon, so it could light 
 Through all the long, long night. 
 I think rd like to be the moon. 
 And roam about the sky 
 Till all the bright stars die. 
 
 [///] 
 
©' 
 
 ©HE ®IND 
 
 HE wind whistles softly in the night 
 
 When the stars shine in the heavens bright, 
 You hear it sing for miles away ; 
 Listen now, and you'll hear it say: 
 ^'O! let me play, let me play." 
 It sings the curly-headed baby to sleep 
 And wakes it from its slumber deep. 
 
 [/^] 
 
I 
 
 SPRING 
 
 N the winter I was lonely 
 
 On a cold and frosty day; 
 But O joy! The spring has come 
 With its flowers, bright and gay. 
 
 And I wish they would stay always, 
 With the birds that sing their lays; 
 
 Now I'll climb the shady bowers, 
 That are filled with blooming flowers. 
 
 IV-] 
 
T 
 
 ©HE fTLOWER QOUSES 
 
 AM growing pretty flowers ; 
 
 They look like steeples and towers. 
 Bees and butterflies to them fly 
 And in the buds and petals lie. 
 Then to the flowers they say ^' Good-by 
 And to their homes they happily fly. 
 
 [vn 
 
D 
 
 ©HE OOVES 
 
 HROUGH meadow and vale, 
 Down hill and dale, 
 My lovey doves flitter 
 Their wings all aglitter. 
 
 My mother says: ''Go catch them, dear, 
 And try to bring them here." 
 
 I ran so fast and so far. 
 That I had to come home in the car. 
 
 ivm 
 
T 
 
 ©HE WORLD'S ©EAUTIES 
 
 LOVE the beauties of the world, 
 The flowers and trees around it curled. 
 O! how I love to walk by the stream! 
 O! how the little ripples gleam! 
 I love to watch the birds in the sky ; 
 It seems as tho they'd never die. 
 And at night-time when the moon is out 
 I cannot help having a little doubt 
 That it is made of pure gold, 
 Even tho I have been told. 
 And O! how dark would be the night 
 If the stars gave us no light! 
 And the beauties which come in my dreams 
 Are flowers, trees, birds and gentle streams, 
 
 [ VIII ] 
 
o 
 
 ©HE nAMBS 
 
 pWN in the meadow so green and fair, 
 
 The shepherd keeps such watchful care 
 Of the lambs so fleecy white, 
 That they never leave his sight. 
 
 The little lambs seem so dear 
 That his faithful listening ear 
 
 Is always open to hear their cry. 
 For he always stands close by. 
 
 [/X] 
 
D 
 
 KENT 
 
 HIS is the holy time of Lent 
 
 When we learn of Jesus, who was sent 
 To teach the people on the earth 
 Of the Saviour's life and birth. 
 
 He told the old, He told the young 
 To listen to His holy tongue. 
 
 And He would be their guide and friend. 
 And all their faults He'd surely mend. 
 
 iX^ 
 
D 
 
 GHANKSGIVING 
 
 HANKSGIVING is a happy day, 
 When tired folks try to be gay. 
 There ought not to be a sigh, 
 When those who love us are close by. 
 
 When the pilgrims landed, safe and sound, 
 Upon the earth, the solid ground, 
 They thanked and prayed and showed their love 
 To Him who rules the Heavens above. 
 
 Pm thankful for so many things — 
 Books, games and toys, and a bird that sings. 
 Just think of the children that are sick and sad. 
 Who have not very much to make them glad! 
 
 Give away all that you can spare, 
 Even your treasures that are rare. 
 And in return, some sunny day, 
 You'll see what comes around your way. 
 
GRANDMOTHER'S ©IRTHDAY 
 
 o 
 
 N a lovely April day 
 
 Comes grandmother's birthday; 
 And I hope you will have a merry one, 
 With lots of joy, and lots of fun. 
 
 I wish I could be by your side, 
 
 But we are apart so wide. 
 That I am sending you this greeting. 
 
 And I hope it will seem like a meeting, 
 
 And now, a happy birthday to you ; 
 
 I hope your presents will not be few. 
 And the days of the new year full of joy. 
 
 Without a care to you annoy. 
 
 ixin 
 

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