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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   

 

 

THE BANKS O' DOON

"The Banks o' Doon," by Robert Burns (1759-96). Bonnie Doon is in the southwestern part of Scotland. Robert Burns's old home it close to it. The house has low walls, a thatched roof, and only two rooms. Alloway Kirk and the two bridges so famous in Robert Burns's verse are near by. This is an enchanted land, and the Scotch people for miles around Ayr speak of the poet with sincere affection. Burns, more than any other poet, has thrown the enchantment of poetry over his own locality.

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,

How can ye blume sae fair!

How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae fu' o' care.


[266]

Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird

That sings upon the bough;

Thou minds me o' the happy days

When my fause luve was true.


Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird

That sings beside thy mate;

For sae I sat, and sae I sang,

And wist na o' my fate.


Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,

To see the woodbine twine,

And ilka bird sang o' its love,

And sae did I o' mine.


Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose

Frae off its thorny tree;

And my fause luver staw the rose,

But left the thorn wi' me.


ROBERT BURNS.





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 Table of Contents  |  Index  | Previous: The Forsaken Merman  |  Next: The Light of Other Days
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