About this poem, my mother would recite these words every time I forgot to say thank you and please. It was a very loving way of teaching me good manners and I passed it on to my three children. I was born in the year 1939.
In some hymnals, the editors noted that a hymn’s author is unknown to them, and so this artificial “person” entry is used to reflect that fact. Obviously, the hymns attributed to “Author Unknown” “Unknown” or “Anonymous” could have been written by many people over a span of many centuries. https://hymnary.org/
Rain, rain, go to Spain, Never show your face again.
Rain, rain, pour down, But not a drop on our town.
Rain on the green grass, And rain on the tree, And rain on the housetop, But not on me.
Rain, rain, go away, Come again on washing day.
Rain Rain Go Away! This is probably the perfect nursery rhyme to sing when the rain is pouring down outside. Rain Rain Go Away is a traditional nursery rhyme that was published in the 17th century or earlier. Since then, new variations of the song have appeared.
There is no time like Spring, When life’s alive in everything, Before new nestlings sing, Before cleft swallows speed their journey back Along the trackless track – God guides their wing, He spreads their table that they nothing lack, – Before the daisy grows a common flower Before the sun has power To scorch the world up in his noontide hour…
by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Christina Georgina Rossetti was an English writer of romantic, devotional and children’s poems, including “Goblin Market” and “Remember”. Wikipedia
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Faster than fairies, faster than witches, Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; And charging along like troops in a battle, All through the meadows the horses and cattle: All of the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, All by himself and gathering brambles; Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; And there is the green for stringing the daisies! Here is a cart run away in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone for ever!