CHILDREN’S VERSES

Waikato Times, Volume 122, Issue 20504, 21 May 1938, Page 21 (Supplement)

CHILDREN’S VERSES

MY SQUIRREL In my garden every day A little squirrel came to play. His fur was very soft and brown. He scampers up the tree and down. But now the snow lies round about My squirrel thinks lie won’t come out, And when I climbed his tree to peep 1 found him curled up, fast asleep. BURNING LEAVES We have swept up Summer with barrow and broom, We have heaped her heart on a golden pyre; All her beauty and all the her bloom Are a trail of smoke in a thin blue spire And ashes scattered along the mire; All the pride of her rich array Is flung to the gathering winds today; And some will remember and some will say fire! ” 4 ‘ There is nothing so sad as an Autumn fire! ” THE SMILE YOU MEANT TO GIVE The joy 0 f this sad old world is small, But you may help it grow By smiling to brighten some weary life, Shaded by sorrow's woe. Then daily as you pass along, Be careful how you live; Let not your gladdening smile be lost— That smile you meant to give. Some lonely heart may pass you by That you might teach to sing. Then smile to-day, for time is short And ever on the wing. So you may brighten clouded skies For many a little while, By cheering words, with gentle tone, And Just that kindly smile. Think of the lonely hearts that wait, With not a friend to cheer— The lonely ones whose daily bread Is wet with many a tear. Oh! lend the sunshine of your life To bid the broken live. Offer the incense of your smile— That smile you meant to give. —R. Hare.

THE FIBHEB Little silver flishes Darting to and fro. I can see you shining As you come and go. In the bright cool water Merrily you play; That is very pleasant On a sunny day. But when winter passes Through this pretty glen, Little silver fishes. What do you do then? THE YELLOW FAIRY I saw her swaying on a hill Just like a golden daffodil, Blow hv a rougish breeze and she Was dancing there in ecstacy. The moon shone on her yellow gown And drew the sparkle from her crown, But as I raced up there to see, She vanished by the hawthorn tree. Yet, when I ran down hill again And thought I heard a splash of rain, ’Twas but the trip of fairy shoon For there she <Vas beneath the moon. A SCOTTISH EVENING Throughout the ’midst of darkness I hear a lowing call, In the ’midst of darkness I hear the shepherd’s callAcross the dewy highlands I hear the curfew ring— With voices filled with beauty The choir begins to sing. In thft depths of silence A mist begins to fall, In the depths of silence I hear a stray lamb’s call. And across the dewy highlands I hear the church bells ring— And once more, in wondrous beauty. The choir begins to sing. Across the dewy highlands 1 hear the echo of the*’ tune. Up In the dewy highlands On this peaceful night in June. As I gaze across the highlands. Their last notes die away— As if it were the ending Of that peaceful Scottish day. (Original.) Sent by Joyce Harris.