Hannah Flagg Gould

“ I shall be glad of a home and a crumb,
When my frail form out of doors would be numb,
And I in the snow-storm should die.
Summer is lovely, but soon will be past.
Summer has plenty not always to last.
Summer's the time for the ant to make fast
Her stores for a future supply!"
The Rose-Bud of Autumn
Come out—pretty Rose-Bud,—my lone, timid one!
Come forth from thy green leaves, and peep at the sun!
For little he does, in these dull autumn hours,
At height'ning of beauty, or laughing with flowers. ”

“ Had drawn his heart above,
In after life preserved the bond
Of grateful, holy love.
The Humming-Bird's Anger
"Small as the humming-bird is, it has great courage and violent passions. If it find a flower that has been deprived of its honey, it will pluck it off, throw it on the ground, and sometimes tear it to pieces." BUFFON.
On light little wings as the humming-birds fly,
With plumes many-hued as the bow of the sky,
Suspended in ether, they shine to the light
As jewels of nature high-finished and bright. ”

“ While hope gives a spur to my little black feet,
He'd never pity my lot!
He'd never ask me my burden to drop,
To join in his folly—to spring, and to hop;
And thus make the ant and her labor to stop,
When time, I am certain, would not.
"When the cold frost all the herbage has nipped,
When the bare branches with ice-drops are tipped,
Where will the grasshopper then be, that skipped
So careless and lightly to-day?
Frozen to death! '
a sad picture
,' indeed,
Of reckless indulgence and what must succeed,
That all his gymnastics can't shelter or feed,
Or quicken his pulse into play! ”

“ Soon as the frost will get off from my bed,
From this cold dungeon to free me,
I will peer up, with my bright little head;
All will be joyful to see me!
Then from my heart will young petals diverge,
Like rays of the sun from their focus;
When I from the darkness of earth shall emerge,
All complete, as a beautiful CROCUS!
Gayly arrayed in gold, crimson, and green,
When to their view I have risen;
Will they not wonder how one so serene
Came from so dismal a prison? ”

“ Because we eat puddings, and pies made of pumpkins,
And have our good Thanksgiving-day."
"I think, brother Charles," returned Edward "at least,
That they might go to church, if they don't like the feast;
For to me it is much the best part,
To hear the sweet anthems of praise, that we give
To Him, on whose bounty we constantly live:—
It is feasting the ear and the heart.
"From Him, who has brought us another year round,
Who gives every blessing, wherewith we are crowned,
Their gratitude who can withhold? ”

“ Who've ever acted well,
Since first I left the chrysalis,
And fluttered from my shell?
"I've never injured fruit, or flower,
Or man, or bird, or beast;
And such a one should have the power
Of going free, at least.
"And now, if you will let me quit
My prison-house, the cup,
I'll show you how I sport and flit,
And make my wings go up!"
The lid was raised; the prisoner said,
"Behold my airy play!" ”

“ A tune to the daylight humming;
And away she went o'er the sparkling dew,
Where the grass was green, the violet blue,
And the gold of the sun was coming.
And what first tempted the roving Bee,
Was a head of the crimson clover.
"I've found a treasure betimes!" said she,
"And perhaps a greater I might not see,
If I travelled the field all over.
"My beautiful Clover, so round and red,
There is not a thing in twenty,
That lifts this morning so sweet a head
Above its leaves, and its earthy bed,
With so many horns of plenty!" ”

“ The most forgiving of earthly things,
I often cling to my deadly foe;
And, spite of the cruellest flirts and flings,
Arise by the force that has cast me low.
When beauty has trodden me under foot,
I've quietly risen, her face to seek,—
Embraced her forehead, and calmly put
Myself to rest in her dimpled cheek.
I've ridden to war on the soldier's plume;
But startled and sprung, at the wild affray,—
The sights of horror—of fire and fume;
And fled on the wings of the wind away.
I've visited courts, and been ushered in
By the proudest guest of the stately scene ”

“ Gladly would I feel assured that, in some future years,—when I shall have done with earthly flowers, and you will be engaged in the busy scenes and arduous duties of mature life,—the import of these leaves may from time to time arise to your memory, in all its dewy freshness, like the fragrance which the summer-breeze wafts after us, from the lilies and violets we have passed and left far behind us, in our morning rambles. ”

“ O, what, and whence am I, 'mid damps and dust,
And darkness, into sudden being thrust?
What was I yesterday? and what will be,
Perchance, to-morrow, seen or heard of me?
Poor—lone—unfriended—ignorant—forlorn,
To bear the new, full glory of the morn,—
Beneath the garden wall I stand aside,
With all before me beauty, show, and pride.
Ah! why did Nature shoot me thus to light,
A thing unfit for use—unfit for sight;
Less like her work than like a piece of Art,
Whirled out and trimmed—exact in every part? ”

“ Nor yet thy heart to discontent;
Though spurned, and poor and lone.
No coveting nor envy burns
In thy bright golden eye,
That calm and innocently turns
On all below the sky.
Thy cautious tongue and sober lip
No words of folly pass,
Nor, are they found to taste and sip
The madness of the glass.
Thy frugal meal is often drawn
From earth, and wood, and stone;
And when thy means by these are gone,
Thou seem'st to live on none. ”

“ And my wings are nearly furled.
I have caused a scene so dreary,
I am glad to quit the world.
While with bitterness I'm thinking
On the evil I have done,
To my caverns deep I'm sinking
From the coming of the sun.
Oh! the heart of man will sicken
In that pure and holy light,
When he feels the hopes I've stricken
With an everlasting blight! ”

“ His shining wings were trimmed with gold,
And many a brilliant dye
Was laid upon their velvet fold,
To charm the gazing eye!
Then, near as prudence would allow,
To Charles's ear he drew
And said, "You may not know me, now
My form and name are new!
"But I'm the worm that once you raised
Your ready foot to kill!
For sparing me, I long have praised,
And love and praise you still.
"The lowest reptile at your feet,
When power is not abused,
May prove the fruit of mercy sweet,
By being kindly used!" ”

“ No dainty dish, nor clover!
We both were old,
And keen the cold;
While poorly housed we found us;
And by the blast
That, whistling, passed,
The snows were sifted round us.
While, many a day.
Few locks of hay
Were most thy crib presented,
A patient Cow,
And kind wast thou,
And with thy mite contented.
But though the storms
Have chilled our forms,
And we've been pinched together,
The dark, blue day
Is passed away;
We've reached the warm spring weather!
The bounteous earth
Is shooting forth
Her grass and flowers so gayly;
Thou now canst feed
Along the mead,
While food is growing daily. ”

“ Will shine where I fasten stove, furnace or grate.
The Summer leaves now whirling fast from the trees,
By Autumn's chill blast are tossed yellow and sere;
And soon, with the breath of his nostrils to freeze
Each thing he can puff at, will Winter be here! ”

“ Their Thanksgiving-stores had already secure,
Their fuel, and clothes for the cold!"
"I'm glad," said their father, "to hear such a wish;
But wishes alone, can fill nobody's dish,
Or clothe them, or build them a fire.
And now I will give you the money, my sons,
Which I promised, you know, for your drum and your guns,
To spend in the way you desire." ”

“ He on his pathway never lags nor dallies;
But is ever up, and on the run.
"Though ever whirling, never growing dizzy;
Motion gives him buoyancy and power.
All who have known him own that he is busy,
Doing much in half a fleeting hour.
"Oh! there is nothing—when our work's before us,—
Like despatch; for, while our time is brief,
Some sweeping blast may suddenly come o'er us,
Lose our place, and turn another leaf!
"Whirlwind, Whirlwind, though you're but a flurry,
And so odd the business you pursue;—
Though you come on, and are off, in such a hurry,
I have caught a hint ”

“ Said William to George, "It is New-Year's day!
And now for the pond and the merriest play!
So, on with your cap; and away, away,
We'll off for a frolic and slide,
Be quick—be quick, if you would not be chid
For doing what father and mother forbid;
And under your coat let the skates be hid;
Then over the ice we'll glide."
They're up, and they're off; on their run-away feet
They fasten the skates, when, away they fleet,
Far over the pond, and beyond retreat,
Unconscious of danger near.
But lo! the ice is beginning to bend—
It cracks—it cracks—and their feet descend! ”

“ Where those who crawl, and those that have wings,
Are ranked in the classes of beggars, and kings,
No matter how much the worth
May be on the side of those who creep,
Where the vain, the light, and the bold will sweep,
Others from notice, and proudly keep
Uppermost on the earth!
"Many a one that has loathed the sight
Of the piteous worm, will take delight
In welcoming me, as I look so bright
In my new and beautiful dress. ”

“ Find, one pair of wings that are free in the air
Are worth two or three in the cage!
"But when our old master awakes, and shall find
The work you have just been about,
We hope, by the freedom we love, he'll be kind,
And spare you for letting us out. ”

“ Its gorgeous plumes and wings.
But do not shun me thus, and hop
Affrighted from my way!
Dismiss thy terrors—turn and stop;
And hear what I may say.
Meek, harmless thing, afraid of man?
This truly should not be.
Then calmly pause, and let me scan
My Maker's work in thee.
For both of us to Him belong;
We're fellow-creatures here;
And power should not be armed with wrong,
Nor weakness filled with fear. ”

“ Up mounted a man and a woman!
"The lady held on by the driver; and so,
Away about town at full trot would they go;
Or perhaps to a great country marriage,—
To Thanksgiving-supper—to husking, or ball;
Or quilting; for thus did they take nearly all
Their rides, on an animal carriage!
"I know not what
huskings
and
quiltings
maybe;
But Grandma' will tell; and perhaps let us see
Some things she has long laid away:—
That stiff damask gown, with its sharp-pointed waist,
The hoop, the craped, cushion, and buckles of paste,
Which they wore in her grandparent's day. ”

“ Up-borne by their beautiful pinions, that seem
Like glittering vapor, or parts of a dream.
The humming-bird feeds upon honey; and so,
Of course, 'tis a sweet little creature, you know.
But sweet little creatures have sometimes, they say,
A great deal that's bitter, or sour, to betray!
And often the humming-bird's delicate breast
Is found of a very high temper possessed.
Such essence of anger within it is pent,
'Twould burst did no safety-valve give it a vent.
Displeased, it will seem a bright vial of wrath,
Uncorked by its heat, the offender to scath ”

“ He quite forgot that he had for wings
But a pair of monstrous, plumeless things;
That, more than half like a fish's fin,
With a warp of bone, and a woof of skin,
Were only fit in the dark to fly,
In view of a bat's or an owlet's eye.
He sallied forth from his hidden hole,
And passed the door of his neighbor, Mole,
Who shrugged, and said, "Of the two so blind
The wisest, surely, stays behind!"
But he could not cope with the glare of day:
He lost his sight, and he missed his way;—
He wheeled on his flapping wings, till, "bump!" ”

“ But their delicate heads by the frost had been nipped;
Their stalks by the blast were all twisted and stripped;
And nothing but ruin was there.
"Oh! how the rude autumn has spoiled the green hills!"
Exclaimed little Charles, "and has choked the bright rills
With leaves that are faded and dead!
The few on the trees are fast losing their hold.
And leaving the branches so naked and cold.
That the beautiful birds have all fled."
"I know," replied Edward, "the country has lost
A great many charms by the touch of the frost,
Which used to appear to the eye ”

“ If plumy or plumeless—without, or with wings,
Beware, lest ye break, in some hazardous hour,
Your vials of wrath, hot, or bitter, or sour!
And would ye but know how at times ye do seem
Transformed to bright furies, or frights in a dream,
Go, stand at the glass—to the painter go sit,
When anger is just at the height of its fit!
The Butterfly's Dream
A tulip, just opened, had offered to hold
A butterfly gaudy and gay ”

“ As Israel's second king!
'Twas not the courage, skill, or might
Which David had, alone,
That helped him Israel's foe to fight
And conquer, with a stone.
But, when the shepherd stripling went
The giant thus to kill,
God used him as an instrument
His purpose to fulfil!
Escape of the Doves
Come back, pretty Doves! O, come back from the tree.
You bright little fugitive things!
We could not have thought you so ready and free
In using your beautiful wings. ”

“ But think, since we're out, we shall do very well
Where nature designed us to live.
"Whene'er you may think of the swift little wings
On which from your reach we have flown,
No doubt, you'll beware, and not meddle with things,
In future, that are not your own." ”