La vita del bambino: una raccolta di poesie . La vita. Mi ricordo, mi ricordo che ho RICOR3IBEK, mi ricordo la casa dove ero boru ;la piccola finestra dove la suu Cielo fa capolino in al mattino ;egli non fu mai un occhiolino troppo presto né portato troppo lungo un daj ;. Ma ora mi viene spesso il desiderio di notte aveva partorito il mio io^reath via ! Mi ricordo, mi ricorda le rose, rosso e bianco.Le Violette e tlie giglio-cnps - Thiise fiori fatti di hght !lillã Avhere il robiu costruito, e dove il mio lirother impostatoal maggiociondolo sul suo Ijirthday, - la struttura ad albero è ancora viva ! Ho rememficr, mi ricordo dove mi è stato utilizzato per ruotare.thouglit e l'aria deve r

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Child life: a collection of poems . LIFE. I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REME3IBEK, I remember The house where I was boru ;The little window where the suu Clime peeping in at morn ;He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a daj ;But now, I often wish the night Had borne my i^reath away ! I remember, I remember The roses, red and white.The violets, and tlie lily-cnps — Thiise flowers made of hght !The lilacs Avhere the robiu built, And where my lirother setThe laburnum on his Ijirthday, — The tree is living yet ! I rememficr, I remember Where I was used to swing.And thouglit the air must rush as fresfl To swallows on the wing ;My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now.And summer pools coidd hardly cool The fever on my Ijrow ! I remember, I rememberThe fir-trees dark and high ; I used to think their slender topsWere close against the sky. PICTURES, FANCIES, AND MEMORIES. 169 It was a childish igQorauce, But now t is little joyTo Itnow I m farther oif from heaven Than when I was a boy. — Ihoman Hood.. OUR HOMESTEAD. Our old brown homestead reared its walls. From the wayside dust aloof, Where the apple boughs could almost cast Their fruitage on its roof: 170 CHILI) LIFE. And the cherr3-tree so near it grew, That when awake I ve lain, In the lonesome nights I ve heard the limbs.As they creaked against the pane :And those orchard trees, oh, those orchard trees ! I ve seen my little brothers rockedIn their tops by the summer lareeze. The sweet-brier under the window sill, Which the early birds made glad.And the damask rose by the garden fencp Were all the flowers we had.I ve looked at many a flower since then, Far brought, and rich, and rare.To other eyes more beautiful • But not to me so fair ;For those roses bright, oh, those roses bright! I have twined them with my sisters locks, That are laid in the dust from sight ! We had a well, a deep old well. Where the spring was never dry, And the cool drops down from the mossy stones Were falling constantly

Parole chiave associate all'immagine

• bookcentury1800
• bookdecade1870
• booksubjectchildrenspoetry
• libro