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

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Of any pleasant thing.

I scolded and I socked,

But it minded not a whit,

Its little mouth was locked,

And I could not open it.

Tho' with pit, and with pat,

And with this, and with that,

I sang about it so cheerly,

With "Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,

And ho but I love thee dearly!"

But when the day was done,

And the room was at rest,

And I sat all alone

With my birdie in my breast,

And the light had fled,

And not a sound was heard,

Then my little bird

Lifted up its head,

And the little mouth

Loosed its sullen pride,

And it opened, it opened,

With a yearning strong and wide.

Swifter than I speak

I brought it food once more,

But the poor little beak

Was locked as before.

I sat down again,

And not a creature stirred;

I laid the little bird

Again where it had laid;

And again when nothing stirred,

And not a word I said,

Then my little bird

Lifted up its head,

And the little beak

Loosed its stubborn pride,

And it opened, it opened,

With a yearning strong and wide.

It lay in my breast,