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The Rock and the Bubble by Louisa May Alcott
Oh! a bare, brown rock Stood up in the sea, The waves at its feet Dancing merrily.
A little bubble Once came sailing by, And thus to the rock Did it gayly cry,
Ho! clumsy brown stone, Quick, make way for me: I'm the fairest thing That floats on the sea.
See my rainbow-robe, See my crown of light, My glittering form, So airy and bright.
O'er the waters blue, I'm floating away, To dance by the shore With the foam and spray.
Now, make way, make way; For the waves are strong, And their rippling feet Bear me fast along.'
But the great rock stood Straight up in the sea: It looked gravely down, And said pleasantly
Little friend, you must Go some other way; For I have not stirred this many a long day.
Great billows have dashed, And angry winds blown; But my sturdy form Is not overthrown.
Nothing can stir me In the air or sea; Then, how can I move, Little friend, for thee?
Then the waves all laughed In their voices sweet; And the sea-birds looked, From their rocky seat,
At the bubble gay, Who angrily cried, While its round cheek glowed With a foolish pride
You shall move for me; And you shall not mock At the words I say, You ugly, rough rock.
Be silent, wild birds! While stare you so? Stop laughing, rude waves, And help me to go!
'For I am the queen Of the ocean here, And this cruel stone Cannot make me fear.
Dashing fiercely up, With a scornful word, Foolish Bubble broke; But Rock never stirred.
Then said the sea-birds, Sitting in their nests To the little ones Leaning on their breasts,
Be not like Bubble, Headstrong, rude, and vain, Seeking by violence Your object to gain;
'But be like the rock, Steadfast, true, and strong, Yet cheerful and kind, And firm against wrong.
Heed, little birdlings, And wiser you'll be For the lesson learned To-day by the sea.
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There was an Old Man of Apulia by Edward Lear
There was an Old Man of Apulia, Whose conduct was very peculiar; He fed twenty sons, Upon nothing but buns, That whimsical Man of Apulia.
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The Dalliance Of The Eagles by Walt Whitman
Skirting the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles, The rushing amorous contact high in space together, The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel, Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling, In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling, Till o'er the river pois'd, the twain yet one, a moment's lull, A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing, Upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting, their separate diverse flight, She hers, he his, pursuing.
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There was a Young Lady whose nose by Edward Lear
There was a Young Lady whose nose, Was so long that it reached to her toes; So she hired an Old Lady, Whose conduct was steady, To carry that wonderful nose.
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