Rejoice, O Earth! Rejoice and sing!
This is the promise of the Spring,
And this the world's remembering.
A Lark's Song
Sweet, sweet!
I rise to greet
The sapphire sky
The air slips by
On either side
As up I ride
On mounting wing,
And sing and sing -
Then reach my bliss,
The sun's great kiss;
And poise a space
To see his face,
Sweet, sweet,
In radiant grace,
Ah, sweet! ah, sweet!
Sweet, sweet!
Beneath my feet
My nestlings call:
And down I fall
Unerring, true,
Through heaven's blue;
And haste to fill
Each noisy bill.
My brooding breast
Stills their unrest.
Sweet, sweet,
Their quick hearts beat,
Safe in the nest:
Ah, sweet, sweet, sweet!
Ah, sweet!
Sweet, sweet
The calling sky
That bids me fly
Up--up--on high.
Sweet, sweet
The claiming earth;
It holds my nest
And draws me down
To where Love's crown
Of priceless worth
Awaits my breast.
Sweet, sweet!
Ah, this is best
And this most meet,
Sweet, sweet! ah, sweet!
'Luvly Miss'
Nobody thought of consequences. There was a lighted paraffin lamp
on the table and nothing else handy. Mrs Brown's head presented a
tempting mark, and of course Mr Brown's lengthy stay at 'The Three
Fingers' had something to do with it; but nobody thought of Miss
Brown, aged four, who was playing happily on the floor, unruffled
by the storm to which she was so well accustomed.
Mrs Brown ducked; there was a smash, a scream, and poor little Miss
Brown was in a blaze.
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