6i6 Home Nature- Study Course. 



JACK-IN-THE- PULPIT. 



Crackle! crack! the ice is melting; 

 From the west the rain falls pelting : 

 Swish and gurgle, splash and spatter ! 

 "Halloo! good folks, what's the matter? 

 Seems to me the roof is leaking!" — 

 Jack from down below is speaking. 



You know little Jack? In the spring he is seen on the swampy edge 



Of the hemlock-wood, looking out from the shade of the fern-wreathed ledge ; 



But in winter he cuddles close under a thatch of damp leaves. — 



Now the water is trickling fast in through his garret-eaves ; 



And he opens his eyes, and up he starts, out of his cosy bed. 



And he carefully holds, while he climbs aloft, his umbrella over his head. 



High time for you to be up, Jack, when every growing thing 



Is washing and sunning itself, Jack, and getting ready for spring! 



CALLING THE VIOLET. 



Dear little Violet, don't be afraid ! 

 Lift your blue eyes from the rock's mossy shade ! 

 All the birds call for you out of the sky : 

 May is here, waiting, and here, too, am I. 



Why do you shiver so, Violet sweet? 

 Soft is the meadow-grass under my feet. 

 Wrapped in your hood of green, Violet, why 

 Peep from your earth-door so silent and shy? 



ONE BUTTERFLY. 



A purple stretch of mountains, 



And, them and me between, 

 A bed of sweet, red clover. 



Billows of meadowy green. 

 Across the wind-swept pastures 



One snow-white butterfly 

 Sails toward the grand horizon. 



Sole voyager of the sky. 



The delicate cloud-shadows 



Win from the mountain sides 

 Glimpses of shy, strange color. 



That common sunshine hides. 

 Who reads that revelation? 



We only, thou and I, 

 In all this noon-lit silence. 



My white-winged butterfly! 



— Lucy Larcom. 



