The Caterpillar

The Caterpillar

by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Brown and furry

Caterpillar in a hurry;

Take your walk

To the shady leaf, or stalk.

May no toad spy you,

May the little birds pass by you;

Spin and die,

To live again a butterfly. 

This beautiful child has learned her caterpillar poem!

The Plains' Call...

The Plains' Call

by Arthur Chapman

I must ride out on the plains again,

With a horse 'twixt knee and knee,

Where the wolves howl and the winds growl,

And the clouds drift fast o'er me;

I must ride out on the plains once more,

On the Westland's broad and level floor.

I must ride forth on the plains at morn,

Where the cactus flowers are,

And the lark calls, and the white walls

Of the mountain loom afar;

I must ride out, when breaks the day--

Ride where the gods of outdoors play.

I must ride out on the plains at night,

And smell the dew wet sage,

When the moon glows, and the late snows

Gleam like a book's white page;

I must ride out on the plains again,

And quit this haunt of pygmy men.

Rain In Summer

Rain In Summer

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

How beautiful is the rain!

After the dust and heat,

In the broad and fiery street,

In the narrow lane,

How beautiful is the rain!

How it clatters along the roofs

Like the tramp of hoofs!

How it gushes and struggles out

From the throat of the overflowing spout!

Across the window-pane

It pours and pours;

And swift and wide,

With a muddy tide,

Like a river down the gutter roars

The rain, the welcome rain!

This is absolutely adorable!
A baby girl and her father in the rain.

When Winter Comes

Two squirrels gather nuts beneath a large oak in the forest.

When Winter Comes

by G. H. L.

When winter comes, the squirrels find

Some shelter from the winds unkind;

Some hollow tree where nuts they store,

Enough to last 'till winter's o'er;

There, safe from harm, they build their nest

And settle down to take a rest,

Their larder full of nuts and wheat,

All that they do is sleep and eat;

When winter comes, Ah me! I find

Some thoughtless ones of humankind,

Who never build a cozy nest, 

Prepare for time to take a rest;

Who when they strong north wind blows cold

Are friendless, helpless, hungry-old.

The Snow-Bird

Snowy pine or fir trees and a squirrel eating nuts.

The Snow-Bird 

by Williams Cullen Bryant

The snow-bird twittered on the beachen bough,

And 'neath the hemlock whose thick branches bent

Beneath its bright cold burden, and kept dry.

A circle, on the earth, of withered leaves,

The partridge found a shelter. Through the snow

The rabbit spring away. The lighter Track

Of fox, and the raccoon's broad paths were there,

Crossing each other. From his hollow tree

The squirrel was abroad, gathering the nuts

Just fallen, that asked the winter cold and sway 

Of winter blast, to shake them from their hold

This version was shortened and illustrated for school children. Read the original in it's entirety at the poetry foundation.

Paper cuts of sports and social occasions...

The following paper cuts depict everyday life during Jane Austen's era Ladies and gentlemen are dressed in Empire waist gowns and top hats with canes.

People play croquet, a lawn game using wickets, mallets and a wooden ball.

Gentlemen in the field for a hunt with their sporting dogs and rifles.

Ladies and gentlemen greeting one another with a curtsy and bow.

Two lovers sit on a park bench kissing while another vignette shows a mother with children approaching a column in a park setting.

Don't Belittle Little Things

Picture includes a puppy, bee, garden, flowers, cloudy day etc...

"Don't Belittle, Little Things"

A pup on a lark with a joyous bark,

In the clover was fanciful free.

He scampered amuck; stopped very abrupt,

When he chanced on a big bumblebee.

Now the bee looked up at the lazy pup,

The pup thereupon showed his teeth;

"I've got teeth too," said the bumblebee,

"Tho' I may be little and hard to see."

So he stung the pup with an angry buzz;

Now the pup's not so cocky as he used to wuz.

Old-fashioned figures in profile...

Below are old-fashioned silhouettes (paper cuts) of ladies and gentlemen from the Victorian era.

The greeting.

In mourning.

The argument.

A Wise Old Owl

Picture of an owl sitting on an oak tree limb with a moon and night sky behind him.

A Wise Old Owl

by Le Roy Newark

A wise old owl

Lived in an oak,

The more he saw

The less he spoke, 

The less he spoke

The more he heard;

Why can't we be

Like that old bird?

Polish Gwaizdy Paper Templates

       Here are some paper stars from old Poland, these designs may be used for personal crafts. Visit few other web sites for now to see how they were cut. (links for folding below)

More Gwiazdy Paper Cutting:

• Cut Paper - Gwiazdy from art for small hands
• Polish Gwiazdy from DLTK's

Song to The Violet

SONG TO THE VIOLET

by James Russell Lowell

Violet! sweet violet!

Thine eyes are full of tears;

Are they wet

Even yet

With the thought of other years;

Or with gladness are they full,

For the night so beautiful,

And longing for those far-off spheres?

Loved one of my youth thou wast,

Of my merry youth,

And I see

Tearfully,

All the fair and sunny past,

All its openness and truth,

Ever fresh and green in thee

As the moss is in the sea.

Thy little heart, that hath, with love

Grown colored like the sky above,

On which thou lookest ever,

Can it know

All the woe

Of hope for what returneth never,

All the sorrow and the longing

to these hearts of ours belonging?

Out on it! no foolish pining

For the sky

Dims thine eye,

Or for the stars so calmly shinning;

Like thee, let this soul of mine

Take hue from that wherefor I long,

Self-stayed and high, serene and strong,

Not satisfied with hoping, but divine.

Violet! dear violet!

Thy blue eyes are only wet

With joy and love of Him who sent thee,

And for the fulfilling sense

Of that glad obedience

Which made thee all that nature meant thee!

On May Morning

On May Morning

by John Milton

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger.

Comes dancing from the east, and leads with

her

The flowery May, who from her green lap

throws

The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire

Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ;

"Woods and groves are of thy dressing,

Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.

Thus we salute thee with our early song.

And welcome thee, and wish thee long.