Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts

Friday, August 27, 2021

A Poetry Moment -The Little People

Just a little aside... back to construction posts later! 

We finished the first week of school and I think it went well! I have had the very great privilege of hearing the McGuffey's Readers read aloud to me multiple times. I have wanted to share this poem for a while, it was in the reader we ended on before summer break.

Third Reader

Lesson LXXVIII

The Little People

1. A dreary place would be this earth, 

    Were no little people in it;

The song of life would lose its mirth, 

Were there no children to begin it;

2. No little forms, like buds to grow, 

And make the admiring heart surrender;

No little hands on breast and brow, 

To keep the thrilling love chords tender. 

3. The sterner souls would grow more stern, 

Unfeeling nature more inhuman, 

And man to utter coldness turn, 

And woman would be less than woman. 

4. Life's song, indeed, would lose its charm, 

Were there no babies to begin it;

A doleful place this world would be, 

Were there no little people in it. 

-John Greenleaf Whittier


Definitions: 1. Dreary, cheerless. 2. Surrender, give up, yield. Love chords, ties of affection. 3. Stern, severe, harsh. Utter, complete. 4. Doleful, gloomy, sad.


Saturday, February 18, 2017

Mathematics


Preparing for the Lesson 1896 painted by Hugo Loffler. 
Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons



Mathematics 

I studied my arithmetic, 
And then I went to bed, 
And on my little pillow white
Laid down my little head. 

I hoped from dreams of dear delight, 
Of sugar-candy bliss;
But oh! my sleep, the livelong night, 
Was filled with things like this. 

Add forty jars of damson jam
To fifty loaves of cake, 
Subtract a cow, and tell me how
Much butter it will make. 

Then add the butter to the jam, 
And give it to a boy, 
How long will 't take ere grievous ache
Shall dash his childish joy?

If twenty men stole thirty sheep
And sold them to the Pope, 
What would they get if he should let
Them have the price in soap?

And if he slew each guileless beast, 
And in pontific glee
Sold leg and loin for Roman coin, 
What would his earnings be?

Next, if a Tiger climbed a tree
To get a cocoanut, 
And if by hap the feline chap 
Should find the shop was shut;

And if ten crabs with clawing dabs
Should pinch his Bengal toes, 
What would remain when he should gain
The ground, do you suppose?

Divide a stick of licorice 
By twenty infant jaws, 
How long must each lose power of speech
In masticating pause?

And if these things are asked of you, 
While you're a-chewing of it, 
What sum of birch, rod, pole or perch
Will be your smarting profit?

I woke upon my little bed 
In anguish and in pain. 
I'd sooner lose my brand-new shoes
Than dream those dreams again. 

Oh! girls and boys, who crave the joys
Of slumber calm and deep, 
Away then kick your 'rithmetic
Before you go to sleep!

-by Laura E. Richards

I discovered this poem in a book entitled "Five Minute Stories" by Laura E. Richards, one of my favorite poets. 

A Solution to Painful Math Lessons
I have discovered, by long arduous experience, the best way to tackle math books with my students: we do half the lesson (sometimes the whole lesson) orally.

The lessons take so much less time now! It is also good for the memory, good for the attitude, and Whew! to get that math lesson out of the way in 15 or 20 minutes rather than half a day is such a relief to my students! And I no longer have the boring task of standing over them to make sure that they do their lesson.

So much of the math books are review: review of yesterday's lesson, review of some skill unused for a few months, or a review of last year. Of course we know the value of this-- to cement in the children's minds the things they have learned by frequent practice. But when faced with a page of simple multiplication review problems, my third grader would glaze his eyes, look out the window, play with his pencil, and slump for sheer boredom. Cutting down the amount of these review problems was a little help, but still we had the really long math lesson happening. Bribery can only do so much. I even had a time when we skipped the easy review problems altogether--only to have trouble later on when it was obvious that some of the facts were not at the ready.

Just turn all those review kinds of math problems into oral drills! You'll be surprised at how fast it will zoom by! The children also get momentum from seeing so much of their math lesson disappear, that they can do the paper and pencil part with alacrity.

Not only that, but they will be able to do more and more complicated math in their head. I am finding that my 4th grader can do nearly the entire daily lesson orally, and in record time. There are no tears and no more frustration. And, I hope, no mathematical nightmares like Mrs. Richard's!

Saturday, September 21, 2013

The Wishing Bridge

Two Little Girls Cross a River by Means of a Rustic Bridge; Swallows Fly around Them






Among the legends sung or said
Along our rocky shore,
The Wishing Bridge of Marblehead
May well be sung once more.


An hundred years ago (so ran
The old-time story) all
Good wishes said above its span
Would, soon or late, befall.


If pure and earnest, never failed
The prayers of man or maid
For him who on the deep sea sailed,
For her at home who stayed.


Once thither came two girls from school,
And wished in childish glee
And one would be a queen and rule,
And one the world would see.


Time passed; with change of hopes and fears,
And in the self-same place,
Two women, gray with middle years,
Stood, wondering, face to face.


With wakened memories, as they met,
They queried what had been
"A poor man's wife am I, and yet,"
Said one, "I am a queen.


"My realm a little homestead is,
Where, lacking crown and throne,
I rule by loving services
And patient toil alone."


The other said: "The great world lies
Beyond me as it lay;
O'er love's and duty's boundaries
My feet may never stray.


"I see but common sights of home,
Its common sounds I hear,
My widowed mother's sick-bed room
Sufficeth for my sphere.


"I read to her some pleasant page
Of travel far and wide,
And in a dreamy pilgrimage
We wander side by side.


"And when, at last, she falls asleep,
My book becomes to me
A magic glass: my watch I keep,
But all the world I see.


"A farm-wife queen your place you fill,
While fancy's privilege
Is mine to walk the earth at will,
Thanks to the Wishing Bridge."


"Nay, leave the legend for the truth,"
The other cried, "and say
God gives the wishes of our youth,
But in His own best way!"




-By John Greenleaf Whittier, 1882

Monday, September 2, 2013

Cobbler! Stick To Your Last; Or, The Adventures Of Joe Dobson

A Milkmaid and Shepherd Outside a Cottage, Circa Late 1640s





Joe Dobson was and Englishman
In days of Robin Hood,
A Country Farmer eke was he, 
In Forest of Sherwood.

Joe Dobson said unto his Dame, 
I vow that I could do
More household work in any day
Than you could do in two.

She soon replied, I do declare
Your words you shall fulfill, 
To-morrow you my place shall take,
I'll to the plow and mill.

Next morning came, they sallied forth, 
Each sure of doing well;
She with her stick, he with a pail, 
The rest I soon will tell.

Away went Joe to milk the cow, 
His business to begin;
She tossed the pail and kicked his leg, 
The blood ran down his shin.

But see him now sit down to reel
The yarn his rib had spun,
But puzzled and perplexed was he--
He swore it was no fun.

Next job to boil the pot he went--
The fire he had forgot;
He ran with chips and burnt his head, 
Oh! grievous was his lot.

Away went Joe to wash the clothes, 
But sore against his will;
The water scalded both his hands, 
Bad luck pursued him still.

He went to hang the clothes to dry--
It was a lovely day;
But oh, alas! a magpie came
And stole his wig away.

Away went Dobson in despair
At losing thus his wig;
The magpie flew with rapid flight
And left it on a twig.

Good lack! quoth he, I must dispatch
And haste the bread to make,
But stooping down to knead it well 
His back did sorely ache.

Loud crowed the cocks, the turkeys screamed,
The geese and ducks now quacked;
Enraged for food, which Joe forgot,
He was by all attacked.

An effort then poor Dobson made
The little pigs to feed;
The old sow tripped him in the mud
In spite of all his heed.

The old Dame now with speed returned
Quite stout and blithe was she,
And found poor Joe all bruised and ill--
Fatigued as he could be.

Now Mrs. Dobson, tidy soul,
Soon set all neat and right,
Prepared the meat and drew the ale--
They bravely fared that night.

Whilst they partook this dainty meal
Joe sullenly confessed
He was convinced that wives could do
The household business best.

-Unknown
A Picturesque Country Cottage, with Cottager Carrying Two Heavy Buckets


Saturday, June 16, 2012

Don't Wake the Baby

Crumbs from a Poor Man's Table, 1868







Don't Wake the Baby

Baby sleeps, so we must tread
Softly round her little bed, 
And be careful that our toys
Do not fall and make a noise. 

We must not talk, but whisper low, 
Mother wants to work, we know, 
That, when father comes to tea, 
All may neat and cheerful be.

-McGuffey's Second Eclectic Reader

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Do Not Quit


The Entangled Kite

The Entangled Kite Giclee Print Foster, Myles...Buy  at AllPosters.com


"When things go wrong as they sometimes will;

When the road you're trudging seems all uphill;


When the funds are low, and the debts are high


And you want to smile, but have to sigh;


When care is pressing you down a bit-


Rest if you must, but do not quit.




Success is failure turned inside out;


The silver tint of the clouds of doubt;


And you can never tell how close you are


It may be near when it seems so far;


So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit-


It's when things go wrong that you must not quit."
~ Unknown



http://www.inspirationalspark.com/perseverance-quotes.html

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

America

O beautiful, for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain,

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.


O beautiful, for pilgrim feet

Whose stern, impassioned stress

A thoroughfare for freedom beat

Across the wilderness!

America! America! God mend thine ev'ry flaw;

Confirm thy soul in self control, thy liberty in law!


O beautiful, for heroes proved

In liberating strife,

Who more than self their country loved

And mercy more than life!

America! America! May God thy gold refine,

Till all success be nobleness, and ev'ry gain divine!


O beautiful, for patriot dream

That sees beyond the years,

Thine alabaster cities gleam

Undimmed by human tears!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea!

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Who Loved Best?

Picking Apples
Picking Apples Giclee Print
Morgan, Frederick
Buy at AllPosters.com
"I love you, mother," said little John;
Then forgetting work, his cap went on,
And he was off to the garden swing,
Leaving his mother the wood to bring.

"I love you, mother," said rosy Nell;
"I love you better than tongue can tell;"
Then she teased and she pouted full half the day,
Till her mother rejoiced when she went to play.

"I love you mother," said little Fan;
"Today I'll help you all I can;
How glad I am that school doesn't keep!"
So she rocked the baby till it fell asleep.

Then, stepping softly, she took the broom,
And swept the floor, and dusted the room;
Busy and happy all day was she,
Helpful and cheerful as child could be.

"I love you, mother," again they said-
Three little children going to bed;
How do you think that mother guessed
Which of them really loved her best?

-Joy Allison

A Little Fellow Follows Me

Good Housekeeping, May 1927
Good Housekeeping, May 1927 Giclee Print
Buy at AllPosters.com

A Little Fellow Follows Me

A careful man I ought to be,
A little fellow follows me.
I dare not go astray,
For fear he'll go the self-same way.

I cannot once escape his eyes,
Whatever he see me do, he tries.
Like me, he says, he's going to be,
The little chap who follows me.

He thinks that I am good and fine,
Believes in every word of mine.
The base in me he must not see,
That little fellow who follows me.

I must remember as I go,
Thru summers' sun and winters' snow.
I am building for the years to be,
In the little chap who follows me.

by Claude Wisdom White, Sr

Baby Skies

In Her Loving Arms II
In Her Loving Arms II Art Print
Byers, Melinda
Buy at AllPosters.com


Would you know the baby skies?
Baby's skies are mother's eyes.
Mother's eyes and smile together
Make the baby's pleasant weather.

Mother, keep your eyes from tears,
Keep your heart from foolish fears,
Keep your lips from dull complaining
Lest the baby thinks 'tis raining.

-Mary C. Bartlett
1900

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Hemming


A pocket handkerchief to hem. 

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! 

How many stitches it will take 

Before it's done, I fear. 

Yet set a stitch and then a stitch. 

And stitch and stitch away. 

Till stitch by stitch the hem is done. 

And after work is play. 

— Christina G. Rossetti 

Monday, April 6, 2009

Our Little Echo

Mother and Child, c.1885




Mother and Child, c.1885
Art Print

Jones, Francis...
Buy at AllPosters.com



OUR LITTLE ECHO
We have an echo in our house,

An echo three years old,

With dimpled cheeks and wistful eyes,

And hair of sunny gold.

This little echo, soft and sweet,

Repeats what others say,

And trots about on tireless feet.

Up stairs and down, all day.

It makes us very careful not

To use a naughty word.

Lest in the echo's lisping tones.

It should again be heard.

Which would be such a dreadful thing.

As any one can see,

Who has an echo in his house,

A little over three.

~Margaret E. Songster

Motherly Love
Motherly Love Giclee Print
Munier, Emile
Buy at AllPosters.com