Days of Birth MONDAY'S child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living, And a child that's born on the Sabbath day Days of the Month THIRTY days hath September, All the rest have thirty-one ; C Old Rhyme. Old Rhyme. The Months J ANUARY brings the snow, Makes our feet and fingers glow. February brings the rain, Thaws the frozen lake again. March brings breezes loud and shrill, Stirs the dancing daffodil. April brings the primrose sweet, May brings flocks of pretty lambs, June brings tulips, lilies, roses, Hot July brings cooling showers, August brings the sheaves of corn, Warm September brings the fruit, Fresh October brings the pheasant, Old Rhyme. Pippa's Song THE year's at the spring Morning's at seven ; The hill-side's dew-pearled; All's right with the world. Robert Browning. The First of May HE fair maid who, the First of May, THE Goes to the fields at break of day, And washes in dew from the hawthorn tree, Oxfordshire Children's May Song SPRING is coming, spring is coming, Birdies, build your nest; Weave together straw and feather, Doing each your best. Spring is coming, spring is coming, Flowers are coming too: Pansies, lilies, daffodillies, Now are coming through. Old Rhyme. Spring is coming, spring is coming, Shimmer and quiver on the river, Joy is everywhere. We wish you a happy May. Country Rhyme. Child's Song in Spring 'HE silver birch is a dainty lady, THE She wears a satin gown; The elm tree makes the old churchyard shady, She will not live in town. The English oak is a sturdy fellow, Such a gay green gown God gives the larches- The hazels hold up their arms for arches The chestnut's proud, and the lilac's pretty, But the plane tree's kind to the poor dull city I love him best of all! E. Nesbit. Baby Seed Song LITTLE brown brother, oh! little brown brother, Are you awake in the dark? Here we lie cosily, close to each other : Hark to the song of the lark "Waken!" the lark says, “waken and dress you ; Put on your green coats and gay, Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you— Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, I'll be a poppy-all white, like my mother; What! you're a sun-flower? How I shall miss you When you're grown golden and high! But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you; Little brown brother, good-bye. E. Nesbit. Two Apple-Howling Songs Sung in Orchards by the Apple-Howlers on Twelfth Day I. SURREY HERE stands a good apple tree. Stand fast at root, Bear well at top; Every little twig Bear an apple big; |