• TABLE OF CONTENTS
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 Front Cover
 All Year Round
 Fronstispiece
 Title Page
 All Round The Year
 Back Cover






Title: All round the year
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00025801/00001
 Material Information
Title: All round the year
Physical Description: 32 p. : ill. ; 15 x 22 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Nesbit, E ( Edith ), 1858-1924
Brooke, Caris
Smith, H. Bellingham ( Illustrator )
Von Portheim & Co ( Publisher )
Publisher: von Portheim & Co.
Place of Publication: London
Publication Date: [ca. 1880]
 Subjects
Subject: Children's poetry -- 1880   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1880
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by E. Nesbit and Caris Brooke ; drawings by H. Bellingham Smith and others.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00025801
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 001865617
oclc - 28946010
notis - AJU0118
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    All Year Round
        Page 3
    Fronstispiece
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
    All Round The Year
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    Back Cover
        Page 35
        Page 36
Full Text
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4LL round the year the changing suns and rainsBeat on men's work-to wreck and to decay-But nature builds more perfectly than they,Her changing unchanged sea resists, remains.All round the year new flowers spring up to shewHow gloriously life is more strong than death;And in our hearts are seeds of love and faith,Ah, sun and showers, be kind, and let them grow.99 9 .^* ,"!*, ; >


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"sE s uRJ gaf.S ,WIFrT pass the hours, or lengthened byour hearts" -- Uncertain measurement of time,And when we dream the year has just awoke,We wake to find her in her prime.SWe sadden with the dying Autumn leaves,Yet falling seeds their promise bring;SJ Through long dark Winter days we only wait-, A resurrection in the coming Spring.


Within each hour the preciousminutes lieLike seeds awaiting Spring'sfirst breath,God's harvest-time shall showus if they bearThe flowers of life or death.Caris Brooke.


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C OL'D is the earth, the flowersbelow,Fearful of Winter's hand, lie curled;But Spring will come again you know,And glorify the world.Dark is the night, no stars or moon; All after hastens to the noon,But at its blackest night is done; The triumph of the sun!And life is short, and love is brief -Be patient! There will be-they sayNew life, divine beyond belief,Somewhere, somehow, some day!E. Nesbit.


q/faglCH VIOLSTS.THIS busy, dusty wind that blowsAlong the cruel streets,Right to the heart of violets goes,And robs them of their sweets.And as along the cruel street.The keen wind robs the flowers,So the cold kindness that we meetBlights these poor hearts of ours.But if you tend with warmth, you know,Your violets, they giveSweet scent again, as if to showHow glad they are to live.We think if some one loved us tooOur hearts would break to proveBy all that we could say or do,How glad we were to love!E. Nesbit.


D 8'eTsAfeSi. footsteps wandering past us in our sleep,A restless presence stirring with the light,The cry of waters where the snow was white, 'A violet's whisper where dead leaves lay deep;The dim wood's music makes a sudden leap,Broken notes, blending in a wild delight,And lo! the whole world changes in our sight.Promise is ended-we must turn and reapFulfilment, for the Spring with all her wealthIs with us, and compels us to her will. ,'Yet if the sun-dawn we should shun by stealth -Yearning for shadows and the darkened hours,Sweet Lord, be pitiful, remembering stillOne licth low beneath the budding flowers., /Caris Brooke.4^it < ^^"^/1


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N SVSk a hand on the cottage doorTo call me forth in the evening light,My days grow old, and I watch no moreThe cowslips gold and the may-buds white.Primroses nestle beneath the hedgeWhere we kissed and wept and said good-bye-For twenty years I have watched them bud,For twenty years I have seen them die.Yet now that the Spring once more has turnedThe sea to silver, the earth to gold,I shall watch no more from the primrose lane,Where I waited and watched in the days of old.Yet the children weave me their daisy chains,The woodland music is sweet and clear,Though the footsteps have wandered beyond recall,That I watched and waited so long to hear!Caris Brooke. "'


i T HE swans along the water glide,N Unfettered and yet side by side-So should true lovers ever be,Together ever-ever free.A chain upon the white swan's neck,What were it good for-save to break?And swans who wear and break a chainSwim never side by side again.14r


M Y best beloved,the Spring is fair,The woods are green and life is good,Come out with me and let us tread"By field and fold and sweet wet wood-SThe wind-flower blanches all the copse,SWith hyacinth the hedge is blue,And every wakened leaf is fair,.f But not so fair as you!, A The black-birds sing on hazel boughsBeneath the overarching trees,S ..... "" The cuckoo's distant song is borneAcross the meadow by the breeze,The thrush's song is sweetest farBut saddens as the hours go by.You hear ? The nightingale's in love,But not so much as I !E. Nesbit.


IR'DL8'D with gold my littlelady's bowerStands at the portals of a world inflower,And down her ways the changingblossoms markHow the Spring grows each dayfrom dawn to dark.4,~~ `


When forth she moves, her dainty foot is set,On cowslip, hyacinth and violet,And all day long the woodland minstrelssingChanges of measure for her pleasuring.And all night long a passionate music stirsWithout her walls-the darkened belt offirs;Hushed in their waving boughs the lowwinds brood,Murmuring the sea's song for an interlude.Caris Brooke.


HE last bright relic of the noon's full gold A sudden shiver of regretful changeBurns on the swiftly flowing river's breast; Sighs through the whispering boughs that overheadNo sound but restless dipping of strong oars Sway in the wind's breath: down the red sun dips,To break the charm of nature's perfect rest. And in the twilight's arms the day lies dead.Far off the town's faint mingled clamours stir, Then rain, and after, moonshine cold and fair,And through the silence of the nearer light And scent of earth, sweet with the evening rain,The incense of the evening mist floats up- And slow soft speech beneath the rain-washed trees,The day's last lingering love-word to the night. Ah, that such things should never come again!* 'a,, ** p~ =;iJ'';~F%


Oh listening trees, where arethe words we spoke? jWhere are our sighs, wind 4i /whom those sighs caressed ?Oh! what a fate is ours, -too swift, too sad,If such an hour goes by with all the rest!E. Nesbit.


IF He/F o'clock is it, children dear?Ask of the dandelions here!S/ Blow, blow, blow, and away they go-But they do not tell us the time you know!.Say, what month is it, children dear ?We think it is August because we hearThe swing of the sickle, restless and slow,And that's a sign of the month, you know.


Where are you going, children dear?Where the lane winds deepand the stream runs clear-There are plenty of beautiful ways to go-But only one way that two only know.Where are we going, children dear ?To a beautiful country that's very near,Hand in hand is the way to goUp into fairyland you know.E. Nesbit.'ig


HOP PICi(Ly g.l'H me, how pleasant to go down"- From the forlorn and faded town- To Kentish wood and fold and lane,""'- And breathe God's blessed air again;. (W {L Where glorious yellow corn-fields blaze. And nuts hang over woodland ways.To pick the sweet keen-scented hops,(See from each pole a dream-wreath drops)To toil all day in pure clear air,Laughter and sunshine everywhere-With reddening woods and sweet wet soilAnd well-earned rest and honest toil.


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/ HSRt do we fly, under deep dark sky ?Over the moors we go,Over the pool where quiet and coolBulrush and sedges grow--And what was the loveliest thing we met ?Ah-we forget 1We remember though all the firelit glowOf a great hearth's gleam and glare,And we looked for a space at each happy faceAnd the love that was written there."And that, of all we have looked on yet-We least forget!


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O H what a day all yellow and gray,And so dark, so dreary, so foggy and thick,That if I should meetIn the streetMy sweet-I might pass her byRisk that? Not I!Take me home out of danger then i! Quick, feet, quick.


ATOT Summer's crown of scent the red rose weavesNor hawthorn blossom over bloom-strewn grass,Nor violet's whisper when the children pass,Nor lilac perfume in the soft May eves,Nor new-mown hay, crisp scent of yellow sheaves,Nor any scent that Spring-time can amassAnd Summer squander, such a magic hasAs scent of fresh wet earth and fallen leaves.For sometimes lovers in November days,When earth is grieving for the vanished sun,Have trod dead leaves in chill and wintry ways,And kissed and dreamed eternal Summer won; MLook back, look back! through memories' deepening haze, / lSSee---two who dreamed that dream, and you were one.^ /


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eTH LOVSR TO HIS LefSS.D 7 E, SS T, the Winter is here! Sweetheart, I sometimes believe," It will be sad," so you said, Love, not the sun, makes us glad;" When no green leaves overhead Even the mists were not sadShadow the paths where we tread! " If your soft hand-clasp I had.I said " It still will be dear Hearts sing, though skies mourn and grieve,If we still meet, All weather's fairO my sweet! " If you're there!See how the seasons are kind! Someday a home there shall be,See this December forget Love shall be sun of it, sweet!* 4How to be weary and wet Joy shall be full and complete-Hardly our June I regret, Sound of small voices and feet;Winter so comely I find While, like the sunshine, for me,Since you are here, You light up life-0 my dear! You-my wife!


D8FORV PcPIRkTISE(KG.surely is the hour come for farewell,Now, with the lessened light and darkened days.Who now would tread the wild hill's pathless ways?We found so fair when Spring and Summer's spellMade blind our hearts this parting to foretell.Yet why, while wan and wintry sunlight staysOn perished gold of Autumn fields, delaysYour heart to speak, while both our hearts rebel ?Together we have gathered through the yearAll that the year could give us of its best,Is it not meet our parting should be here,Now in the season drear of death and rest ?Yet since together we its joys have knownHow shall each meet the strange New Year alone.Caris Brooke.t


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