g, As somebody flits in and out like a bird;Strange accidents chancing wherever the dancing,Small footsteps are heard. Come, Ethel, my baby, your grave eyes uplifting, Stand here at my knee. Do you know the wee sprite,Who into some ever-new mischief is drifting,From morning till night ? A smile… … A BUSY -DEAR. A bright little maiden, over the way,Is up from her pillow at break of day. Hands and face she washes,and combs her hair: Twin pretty brown braidsshe ties up with care. When breakfast is done,she washes the dishes, Then hurries away to knowmammas wishes.
Children's poetry · Picture books for children
Internet Archive · Library of Congress · Public Domain Mark 1.0. Free to use for anything.
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