Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages онлайн

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In our youth time were seen

On the Echoing Green."

Till the little ones, weary,

No more can be merry;

The sun does descend,

And our sports have an end.

Round the laps of their mothers

Many sisters and brothers,

Like birds in their nest,

Are ready for rest,

And sport no more seen

On the darkening Green.

William Blake

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If I had but two little wings

And were a little feathery bird,

To you I'd fly, my dear!

But thoughts like these are idle things,

And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly:

I'm always with you in my sleep!

The world is all one's own.

But then one wakes, and where am I?

All, all alone.

Sleep stays not, though a monarch bids:

So I love to wake ere break of day:

For though my sleep be gone,

Yet while 'tis dark, one shuts one's lids,

And still dreams on.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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I remember, I remember,

The house where I was born,

The little window where the sun

Came peeping in at morn;

He never came a wink too soon,

Nor brought too long a day;