j J 
 
 p- 
 
 r^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 .^f 
 
 /: 
 
THE 
 
 [?[L®W 
 
 m 
 
 WiJl 
 
 OR 
 
 PRETTY POEMS 
 
 FOR 
 
 ED Edir^B'ILIl (SMnEdHSISiliM 
 
 M i 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 128 & 125 William St, 
 
f« JTc*:?^ sr«u.«fci*^-'iiJ«i^*- 
 
 _jrs-aiJFaacangrr^-^ja^-^a^ 
 
 -.jn-ij-^i .. ■••^'-<"-i^-.^r:t^^t:^-J«>:--^— aJ.^::-^::^:^^*^ 
 
 .^.^^.^-rijiW t« .>;.cr.^AJ>*A-jJ--J.7Z; ^ .l»hi n i • ^ ■■ '*»^ r ..> ; .^ v; y-. 
 
 ;«WBafc«w«^ 
 
 ■iiwi^w^ ^ •..^sjj;.^^^ 
 
THE 
 
 F L O WE R-V A S E. 
 
 ^^-o 
 
 THE BUTTERFLY. 
 
 The butterfly, an idle thing, 
 
 Nor honey makes, nor yet can sing^ 
 
 Like to the bee, and bird ; 
 Nor does it, like the prudent ant, 
 Lay up the grain for times of want, 
 
 A wise and cautious hoard. 
 
 My youth is but a summer's day, 
 Then like fhe bee, and ant, I'll lay 
 
 A store of learning by ; 
 And though from flower to flower I rove, 
 My stock of wisdom I'll improve. 
 
 Nor be a butterfly. 
 
■ ■— ^ t amt m H^X^ 
 
 THK FLOWER- v^ASe 
 
 ->7i.-»L-ia>, _-.jgw. 
 
 
 ..•.• — ~.jci:-v»u^f,n:» ,^.^fiKt^ 
 
 
 ''''-^:.^ 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
THE FLOWER-VASEo 5 
 
 THE SWING. 
 
 See how CTacefiillv to and fro, 
 
 Little Emma sweeps the air — 
 Her garments floating to the breeze. 
 
 And unconlined her hair ; 
 She keeps her phiymates on the run, 
 Working till their turn shall come, 
 While every footfall seems a song, 
 Sent forth to gladden them alono^-. 
 
 Here are the very looks wherein, 
 
 The sunbeams always lie, 
 And faces, such as painters love 
 
 To sketch their cherubs by. 
 On such a scene we love to gaze, 
 It calls to mind our early days ; 
 When we could swing, and jump, and 
 
 play, 
 And be as free from care as they. 
 
 A kind of halo like a beam 
 
 From Eden's reahns set free. 
 Surrounds tliem with its viewless folds, 
 
 A robe of sanctity. 
 And even we half seem to share 
 The childhood's sunshine where they are \ 
 For we can feel the Uving spring 
 Its ministering angels bring. 
 
 Mijiwrnwi 
 
 il 
 
6 
 
 THE FLOWER-VASE 
 
THE FLOWER-VASE. 
 
 MY GRANDFATHER. 
 
 Grandfather's very old ; his eye 
 
 Looks dimly on tne page, 
 His scanty locks and lengthened beard 
 
 Are silvered o*er by age ; 
 My heart has learned too well the tale 
 
 Which other lips have told, 
 His years and strength begin to fail — 
 
 Grandfather's very old. 
 
 They tell me, in my tender years, 
 
 He led me by his side, 
 And strove to calm my infant fears. 
 
 My tottering steps to guide. 
 But years, with all their scenes of change, 
 
 Above us both have rolled. 
 [ now must guide his faltering steps — 
 
 Grandfather's very old. 
 
 When sunset's rosy glow de})arts, 
 
 With voices full of mirth, 
 Our household band, with joyous hearts, 
 
 Will gather round the hearth. 
 They look upon his trembling form, 
 
 His pallid face behold, 
 And turn away with chastened tones — 
 
 Grandfather's very old. 
 
8 THE FLOWER-VASE. 
 
 And when each tuneful voice we raise, 
 
 In songs of *^ long ago/* ' 
 His voice which mingles in our lays, 
 
 Is tremulous and low. 
 It used to seem a clarion's tone, 
 
 So musical and bold, 
 But weaker, fainter has it grown — 
 
 Grandfather's very old. 
 
 The same fond smile he used to wear, 
 
 Still wreaths his pale lips now ; 
 But time, with lines of age and care, 
 
 Has traced his placid brow. 
 But yet amid the lapse of years. 
 
 His heart has not grown cold, 
 Though voice and footsteps plainly tell 
 
 Grandfather's very old. 
 
 Dear grandfather ! thou didst strive to 
 share 
 
 My joys cLr^d calm my fears. 
 Thy grandchild now, with grateful care, 
 
 In thy declining years 
 Shall smooth thy path, and brighter scenes 
 
 By faith and hope unfold ; 
 And love thee with a holier love, 
 
 Since thou art now grown old. 
 
THE FLOWER-VASE. 
 
 POOR DONKEY'S EPITAPH. 
 
 Down in this ditch poor Donkey Hes, 
 Who jogged with many a load ; 
 
 And till the day death closed his eycs^ 
 Browsed up and dbwn this road. 
 
 No shelter had he for his head, 
 Whatever winds miQ:ht blow ; 
 
 A neicrhborincj common was his bed, 
 Though dressed in sheets of snow. 
 
 En this green ditch he often strayed 
 
 To nip the dainty grass ; 
 And friendly invitations brayed, 
 
 To some m.ore hunsfry ass. 
 
 Each market day he jogged along. 
 Beneath his master's goad, 
 
 j>» 
 
10 THE FLOWEH-VASE. ^^ 
 
 And snored out many a Donkey's song 
 To friends upon the road. 
 
 A turf of grass, a thistle green, 
 
 Or cabbage-leaf so sweet. 
 Were all the dainties he was seen 
 
 For twenty years to eat. 
 
 And as for sport — the sober soul 
 
 Was such a steady Jack, 
 He only now and then would roll. 
 
 His rider from his back. 
 
 But all his sport and dainties too. 
 
 And labors now are o'er, 
 Last night so bleak a tempest blew, 
 
 He could withstand no more. 
 
 He felt his feeble limbs benumbed. 
 His blood was freezing slow, 
 
 And presently he tumbled plump, 
 Stone dead upon the snow. 
 
 I^oor Donkey ! travellers passing by 
 Thy cold remains shall see: 
 
 And 'twould be well, if all who die 
 Had worked as hard as thee. 
 
THE PLOWER-VASE. 11 
 
 THE VILLAGE GREEN. 
 
 On the cheerful village green, 
 
 Scattered around with houses neat, 
 
 All the boys and girls are seen, 
 Playmg there with busy feet. 
 
 Now they frolic, hand in hand ; 
 
 Making many a merry chain ; 
 Then they form a warlike band, 
 
 Marching o'er the level plain. 
 
 Then ascends the worsted ball ; 
 
 High it rises in the air ; 
 ()r against the cottage wall. 
 
 Up and down it bounces there. 
 
 Or the hoop, with even pace. 
 Runs before the merry crowd ; 
 
 J )y is seen in every face, 
 
 Joy is heard in clamors loud. 
 
 F^3r among the rich and gay. 
 
 Fine, and grand, and decked in laces. 
 None appear more glad than they, 
 
 With happier iiearts, or happier faces. 
 
 Then contented with my state, 
 Let me envy not the great ; 
 
 Since true pleasure may be seen 
 On a cheerful village green. 
 
12 
 
 THE FLOWER-VASE 
 
 .—.J 
 
THE FLOWER^TASE, I 
 
 THE MOTHER'S PETB. 
 
 Hovr happily the little child 
 
 Enjoys the summer air ; 
 How cheerily, with accents mild ? 
 
 She greets her sister there. 
 
 H' )w sweet to see the mother fair. 
 
 Sustain that cherub form, 
 Mingling, with a parent's care^ 
 
 Words of affection warm. 
 
 Right merrily, these little ones 
 Will sport this sunny morn ; 
 
 Bat mother's eyes where Clara runS; 
 Still anxiously is borne. 
 
 Should Clara fall, v/ould mother fly^ 
 
 To raise her to her feet ; 
 And mother^s voice, should Clara cry, 
 
 Words of comfort would repeat. 
 
 So, o'er my path through this vain world, 
 May guardian hosts keep ward ; 
 
 And when life's fleeting flag is fiurled, 
 My flight to heaven guard. 
 
14 
 
 THE FLOWER-VASE. 
 
 ajM 
 
 
 \ 
 
I THE FLOWER-VASE. 15 
 
 1 
 
 1 THE COTTAGE GIRL. 
 
 With resolute and dauntless air 
 
 See the fearless heroine dare, 
 
 Upon a log to cross the stream, 
 
 To reach her honle ere twilight's gleanii. 
 
 Next upon the village green, 
 The pretty cottage girl is seen ; 
 I Then besides her cottage neat, 
 
 Knitting on the garden seat. 
 
 Now within her humble door, 
 Sweeping clean the kitchen floor, 
 Where, upon the wall so white, 
 Hang her coppers polished bright. 
 
 Mary never idle sits, 
 She either sews, or spins, or knits, 
 Hard she labors all the week, "^ 
 
 With sparkling eye and rosy cheek. 
 
 And on Sunday, Mary goes, 
 Neatly dressed in decent clothes, 
 Says her prayers (a constant rule) 
 And hastens to the Sunday school. 
 
 O how good should we be found, 
 Who lived on liberty's happy ground ! 
 Where rich and poor and wretched may 
 All learn to walk in wisdom's way. 
 
16 THK FLOWER-VASE. 
 
 THE YELLOW LEAJ'. 
 
 I SAW a leaf come tilting dowiij 
 From a bare, withered bough ; 
 
 The leaf was dead, the branch v/as brown 
 No fruit v/as left it now. 
 
 This leaf, they tell me,, once was green 
 Washed by the showers soft : 
 
 High on the topmost bough ^twas seen^ 
 And flourished up aloft. 
 
 I saw an old man totter slow, 
 Wrinkled, and weak, and gray ; 
 
 He'd hardly strength enough to go 
 Ever so short a v/ay. 
 
 His ear was deaf his eye was dim* 
 He leaned on crutches high ; 
 
 But v/hile I stayed to pity him, 
 I sav/ him gasp and die. 
 
 This poor old man was once as gay 
 
 As rosy health could be ; 
 Ifes, and the youngest head must lay. 
 
 Ere long as low as he^ 
 
 ■MiaiilMiitMHliaial^HiMi 
 
r 
 
 
! 1 
 
 m 
 m 
 
 KIGGINS & KELLOGG, 
 
 Publishers, Booksellers, and 
 
 Stationers, 
 
 123 «fe ia.5 AVJlliam St., 
 Also MANDFACTUEEES of every description of 
 
 ACCOUNT BOOKS 
 
 J 
 
 Memorandums & Pass Books, 
 
 a large Stock of which is constantly kept on hand. 
 
 Their Assortment of 
 
 SCHOOL, 
 AND MISCELLANEOUS BOOKS, 
 
 and of Foreisrn and Domestic 
 
 ill 
 
 ll 
 
 i 
 
 IK 
 
 .^ T A^ T I O jV E H Y , 
 
 is nery complele^ to the inspection of wliieh they 
 
 would inmte Country Merchants before 
 
 purcha sin g els ewhere. 
 
 ALSO PUBLISH, 
 
 iHii 
 
 J 
 
 EEDFIELD'S TOY BOOKS 
 
 Four Series of Twelve Books each, 
 
 BeatLtifully Illustrated^ 
 PRICE, ONE, TWO, FOUR, AND SIX CENTS,