Transcriber's Note:
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
JULIUS BIEN & CO. LITH.
Under
Blue
Skies.
Verses &
Pictures
By
S. J. Brigham
Worthington Co.
747 BWAY. N. Y.
UNDER BLUE SKIES.
(Frontispiece)
Under blue skies
Daffodils dance, and the Oriole flies,
Bright, golden butterflies float on the breeze
Over the clover with brown honey-bees;
Daisies and buttercups, slender and tall,
Nod to the roses that cover the wall,
Under blue skies.
Under blue skies,
Every day brings us a sweeter surprise,
Blooming of flowers and singing of birds,
Words without song, and song without words;
A world of bright children, all happy and gay,
In sunshine and shadow, at work and at play.
Copyright, 1886, by S. J. Brigham, N. Y.
Contents.
[SILENT VOICES. II. BLUE-EYED GRASS.]
[SILENT VOICES. III. CLOSING FLOWERS.]
LITTLE NEIGHBORS.
Birds a-singing in the trees,
Marigolds a-blowing;
Bees a-humming what they please,
Coming and a-going;
Hiding in the hollyhocks,
Swinging on the clover,
Climbing up the Lily-stalks,
Honey running over.
Breath of roses in the air,
Roses are in hiding;
Breezes will not tell us where,—
Winds are not confiding;
Down the walks the children wind,
Through the fence a-peeping;
Like the bees and birds they find
Treasures for the seeking.
Little neighbors, like the birds,
Sing and talk at pleasure;
Like the bees, with honeyed words,
Choose their time and measure;
Like sweet peas they cling and climb,
Here and there and yonder;
All the pleasant summer-time
They visit and they wander.
STUDY-HOUR.
O hush! you Robin, you sing and swing
In the lilac tree,
And my lessons seem long when I hear your song
So happy and free.
If only the hours had wings, I know
They would flutter away,
Like the bird on the tree, or the velvet bee,
Or the butterfly gay.
But then I know that a maid like me
Has a life to live,
And my heart and my mind has something to find
Before it can give.
O rest you, Robin, a little while
Your voice and your wing!
And then by-and-by dear Robin and I
Will both sing and swing.
THE LETTER.
"O, wait, little maiden,
With hand letter-laden!
I'll take it one minute,
And please tell me who
You have written it to,
And all that is in it."
"Ah, no!" said the maiden,
"With love it is laden,
No stranger can take it:
I will just tell you this,
It is sealed with a kiss,
And Mamma will break it."
DAFFY DIL
AND
JONNY QUIL.
Said Jonny Quil
to Daffy Dil,
His pretty country cousin:
"Now is our chance
to have a dance,
Your sisters, full a dozen,
Are here in golden
cap and frill;
What say you,
Cousin Daffy Dil?"
Said Daffy Dil
to Jonny Quil,
"To dance would give
us pleasure;
But, then, you know,
the wind must blow,
To beat our time
and measure.
Young April Wind
will be here soon,
And he will whistle
us a tune."
CAMPING SONG.
O who would live in a cottage close,
Shut in like a captive bird?
I would sooner have a tent like mine,
Within the shade of a fragrant pine,
Where the breaking waves are heard,—
Are heard,
The breaking waves are heard.
The song of winds in the sweet pine tree,
The waters that kiss the shore,
The white-winged sea-bird's mellow cry,
Mingled in one sweet melody,
Steals softly in at my door,—
My door,
Steals in at my open door.
All day I sing and read and sew,
Beneath this sheltering pine,
Kissed by cool breezes from the sea,
And people passing envy me,
And wish for a tent like mine,—
Like mine,
For a cosy tent like mine.
THE FAMILY DRIVE.
"Heigh, ho!"
Like the wind we go,
For a family drive to Jericho;
The horses dance
And prink and prance,
But who is afraid of the horses, O?
"Heigh, ho!"
O, the daisies grow
Along the wayside to Jericho;
But the horses run
And spoil our fun,
And we cannot pick us a daisy, O.
"Whoa! whoa!!"
Won't you please go slow?
We are going home from Jericho;
All danger past,
We are home at last,
Without a tip or a tumble, O.
SILENT VOICES.
I.
DAISIES.
Hosts of little daisies white
Stand among the grasses,
Greeting with a girlish grace
Every breeze that passes.
Quaint white caps and golden hair,
Tresses green and slender;
With my heart I heard them say
Something very tender—
Saying something to the grass,
Very sweet and tender.
SILENT VOICES.
II.
BLUE-EYED GRASS.
Hush—O hush! you wanton winds,
Hush you, while I listen!
In the blue eyes of the grass
Tear-drops seem to glisten.
A shy Daisy leaned that way,
When the winds were blowing;
With my heart I heard him say
Something worth the knowing—
Fondly, to the Daisy say,
Something worth the knowing.
SILENT VOICES.
III.
CLOSING FLOWERS.
When the sun, in red and gold,
Down the West was creeping;
When the bird beneath its wing
Tucked its head for sleeping,
Silently the silken doors
Of the flowers were closing;
Poppies each, with drooping head,
Slowly fell a-dozing.
With my heart, I heard them say,
"Good-night till the morrow:
Here's good-night to all the world
Till the happy morrow."
DANDELION.
Modest little Dandelion,
Standing in the grass,
Offering her plate of gold
To people as they pass.
If you slight her, soon her tresses
Will be growing gray,
And some antic, frantic wind
Will blow them all away!
SWEET GRASS.
The sweet grass grows
Where the Daisy blows,
But how sweet grass with its tender grace..
And the Daisy with its winsome face,
Came to live in the same sweet place,
Nobody knows.
The sweet grass grows
Where the Daisy blows,
And under the shade of the tender grass
The children saw some crickets pass;
But why they were all in black, alas!
Nobody knows.
The sweet grass grows
Where the Daisy blows;
The children pulled till their hands were red;
The grasshoppers shook with fear and fled;
But what Sweet Grass to the Daisy said,
Nobody knows.
THE MULLEIN PATCH.
O Mullein, whisper in my ear
And tell me how you grow,
I was the taller of the two
But one short week ago,
And now, as I on tiptoe stand,
Can scarcely reach you with my hand.
You're growing very lovely, too,
In your pale-green velvet gown;
And golden as a daffodil
Are the flowers in your crown.
So tall and stately! Is it true
That all your neighbors envy you?
The Thistle flushed as the maiden spoke,
And thrust out every thorn;
The Wormwood very bitter grew;
And tossed her head in scorn;
The Teazle and the Burdock tried
To pull the maiden's dress aside.
The Mullein kept the secret well,
And the maiden never knew
That she the only object was
Of envy. And 'tis true
That when she left and said Good-bye!
For sadness they made no reply.
"TOSSED UP IN A BLANKET."
Toss away, toss away,
Low away, high,
Up in a blanket
To visit the sky;
Lightly she'll swing
In the silver moon,
And bring to her sisters
A star pretty soon.
Toss away, toss away,
High away, low,
Rock her to sleep
In the silver bow;
Toss up a kiss to