5 10 Me, their master, waited for. I was rich in flowers and trees, Through the day and through the night – Talked with me from fall to fall; Mine, on bending orchard trees, Still, as my horizon grew, Oh for festal dainties spread, Like my bowl of milk and bread 5 10 115 20 Pewter spoon and bowl of wood. Cheerily, then, my little man, Shall the cool wind kiss the heat; All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride. THE BAREFOOT BOY Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's, for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil: Happy if their track be found Quick and treacherous sands of sin; Ere it passes, barefoot boy. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER: 123 Bless-ings on thee, lit-tle man, Bare-foot boy with cheek of tan! With thy turn'd up pant-a - loons, And thy mer - ry whis-tled tunes; "With thy red lip, red- der still, Kiss'd by straw-ber-ries on the hill; With the sun-shine on thy face,Thro' thy torn brim's jaunty grace: 5 10 A HAPPY BOY I Bevis had wandered far into the woods, looking at this thing and talking to that, and utterly forgetful of time and distance. When, at length, he began to think of returning to the place where he had left his father loading hay, he found that he did not know which way to go. 5 Just as he was thinking he would ask a bee to show him the way (for there was not a single bird in the woods), he came to a place where the oaks were thinner, and the space between them was 10 covered with bramble bushes. Here there were ripe blackberries, and soon his lips were stained with their juice. Passing on from bramble thicket to bramble thicket, by and by he shouted and danced and clapped his hands with joy, for there 15 were some nuts on a hazel bough, and they were ripe, he was sure, for the side toward the sun was rosy. Out came his pocket knife, and with seven tre |