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Poems Every Child Should Know by  Mary E. Burt

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Poems Every Child Should Know
by Mary E. Burt
An outstanding collection of poems that appeal to both boys and girls, compiled by a teacher who believed in the formative power of learning poetry by heart. 'Children,' she maintains, 'should build for their future and get, while they are children, what only the fresh imagination of the child can assimilate. They should store up an untold wealth of heroic sentiment; they should acquire the habit of carrying a literary quality in their conversation; they should carry a heart full of the fresh and delightful associations and memories connected with poetry hours to brighten mature years. They should develop their memories while they have memories to develop.' The poems are grouped into six sections (The Budding Moment, The Little Child, The Day's at the Morn, Lad and Lassie, On and On, 'Grow Old Along with Me') to make it easier to locate poems that match a child's maturity.  Ages 8-12
391 pages $14.95   




[114] "Jesus the Carpenter"—"same trade as me"—strikes a high note in favour of honest toil. (1848-.)

"Isn't this Joseph's son?"—ay, it is He;

Joseph the carpenter—same trade as me—

I thought as I'd find it—I knew it was here—

But my sight's getting queer.

I don't know right where as His shed must ha' stood—

But often, as I've been a-planing my wood,

I've took off my hat, just with thinking of He

At the same work as me.

He warn't that set up that He couldn't stoop down

And work in the country for folks in the town;

And I'll warrant He felt a bit pride, like I've done,

At a good job begun.

The parson he knows that I'll not make too free,

But on Sunday I feels as pleased as can be,

When I wears my clean smock, and sits in a pew,

And has taught a few.

I think of as how not the parson hissen,

As is teacher and father and shepherd o' men,

Not he knows as much of the Lord in that shed,

Where He earned His own bread.

And when I goes home to my missus, says she,

"Are ye wanting your key?"

For she knows my queer ways, and my love for the shed

(We've been forty years wed).


So I comes right away by mysen, with the book,

And I turns the old pages and has a good look

For the text as I've found, as tells me as He

Were the same trade as me.

Why don't I mark it? Ah, many say so,

But I think I'd as lief, with your leaves, let it go:

It do seem that nice when I fall on it sudden—

Unexpected, you know!


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