Gordon, Katharine Parker, Mother · Boston : Samuel G. Simpkins · leaf 24
n fair,Nor thought of harm or dread, Till a deep sound convulsed the air —The little birds are dead ! THE DEAD SNOW BIRDS. 21 Their happy chirping now is still, Their pretty heads droop low ;Their little wings are folded close, Their feet are cold as snow. Poor little birds ! just now you sung, And… … SONG. The bee is buzzing round and round,Making its low and humming sound,Kissing the honey from the flowers,Made bright and gay by summer showers ;Resting on beds of mignionette,Or hidins with the violet. But if the power were given to meTo be a busy, humming bee,I d spread my wings and float…
Children's poetry
Internet Archive · New York Public Library · Public Domain Mark 1.0. Free to use for anything.
