A) Read the poems with intonation.
Those Evening Bells
(By Thomas Moore)
Those evening bells! Those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those joyous hours are passed away,
And many a heart that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells
And hears no more those evening bells.
And so t'will be, when I'm gone,
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk those dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells!
No Enemies
(By Mackay)
You have no, enemies, you say?
Alas! my, friend, the boast is poor;
He who has mingled in the fray
Of, duty, that the brave endure,
Must have made foes! If you have, none
Small is the work that you have done.
You've hit no traitor on the hip,
You've dashed no cup from perjured lip,
You've never turned the wrong to right,
You've been a coward in the fight.
There's a Hole in My Bucket
There's a hole in my bucket,
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
There's a hole in my bucket,
Oh, what shall I do?
Why, mend it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry,
Why, mend it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, mend it.
With what shall I mend it?
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what shall I mend it?
Oh, what shall I do?
With sticky, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry,
With sticky, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, with sticky.
But there isn't any sticky,
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
But there isn't any sticky,
Oh, what shall I do?
Well, make some, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry,
Well, make some, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, make some.
With what shall I make it?
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what shall I make it?
Oh, what shall I do?
With powder and water,
Dear Henry, dear Henry,
With powder and water,
Both mixed together.
But there isn't any water,
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
But there isn't any water,
Oh, what shall I do?
Well, fetch some, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry,
Well, fetch some, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, fetch some.
In what shall I fetch it?
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
In what shall I fetch it?
Oh, what shall I do?
How often
(by Ben King)
They stood on the bridge at midnight,
In a park not far from the town;
They stood on the bridge at midnight,
Because they didn't sit down.
The moon rose o'er the city,
Behind the dark church spire;
The moon rose o'er the city
And kept on rising higher.
How often, oh, how often!
They whispered words so soft;
How often, oh, how often,
How often, oh, how oft!
The Arrow and the Song
(by Henry Longfellow)
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where.
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of a song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroken;
And the song from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
Next Year
(by Eleanor Fargeon)
She counted her cherries and wept a salt tear.
Three-hundred-and-sixty-five days in a year!
Time is a snail and the clock goes so slow —
How can I wait a whole year for my beau?
How can I tarry so long for my dear?
Three-hundred-and-sixty-five clays in a year!
She counted her cherries and laughed long and light.
Twenty-four hours in a day and a night!
This, if my calendar does not deceive,
Is the last of December, oh, this is the Eve!
Tomorrow is Next Year, Next Year is in sigh!
Twenty-four hours in a day and a night!
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Song
(By Langston Hughes)
I sat there singing her
Songs in the dark.
She said,
I do not understand
The words.
I said,
There are
No words.
Asking Questions
(by Eve Merriam)
Grown-ups seldom listen
When they ask, "How old are you?'
All they want to do is say,
"Why, it seems like yesterday
That you were only two!"
The next one who asks me,
I'll tell, "I'm ninety-three."
***********
"What's your name?"
"Puddintame!
Ask me again and
I'll tell you the same!"
U N К N О W N
The Robbin
(by Thomas Hardy)
When up aloft I fly and fly,
I see in pools
The shining sky,
And a happy bird am I, am I
When I descend
Towards their brink,
I stand, and look,
And stoop, and drink,
And bathe my wings,
And chink and prink.
When winter frost
Makes earth as steel,
I search and search
But find No meal,
And most unhappy
Then I feel.
But when it lasts,
And snows still fall,
I get to feel
No grief at all,
For 1 turn to a cold stiff
Feathery ball!
Kittens
(By Eve Merriam)
Kittens are furry.
Kittens are puny.
They lap at milk in a shallow dish.
They lick their whiskers and dream of fish.
My Pet
(by Rosemary Carland)
Someone asked me yesterday:
"Have you got a pet?"
I sadly had to answer them:
"No, I haven't yet!"
But now I've found a butterfly,
And we are great friends, he and I.
Quiet Girl
(By Langston Hughes)
I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for2 your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.
Poem
(unknown)
I loved my friend.
He went away from me.
There's nothing more to say.
The poem ends,
Soft as it began —
I loved my friend.
Lover to Mistress
(By Thomas Hardy)
Beckon to me to come
With handkerchief or hand,
Or finger mere or thumb;
Let forecasts be but rough,
Parents more bleak than bland,
'Twill be enough,
Maid mine, Twill be enough!
Two fields, a wood, a tree,
Nothing now more malign
Lies between you and me;
But were they bysm,
Or snarling sea, one sign
Would be enough, Maid mine,
Would be enough!
Sally in Our Alley
(Henry Carey)
Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
There's ne'er2 a lady in the land,
That's half as sweet as Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
Of all the days that's in the week,
I dearly love but one day,
And that's the day that comes betwixt
A Saturday and Monday;
For then I'm drest in all my best,
To walk abroad with Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley. |