Saw the rainbow in the heaven,
    In the eastern sky, the rainbow,
    Whispered, “What is that, Nokomis?”
    And the good Nokomis answered: 
   “Tis the heaven of flowers you see there;
    All the wild-flowers of the forest,
    All the lilies of the prairie,
    When on earth they fade and perish,
    Blossom in that heaven above us.”

    When he heard the owls at midnight,
    Hooting, laughing in the forest,
   “What is that?” he cried, in terror;
   “What is that,” he said, “Nokomis?”
    And the good Nokomis answered: 
   “That is but the owl and owlet,
    Talking in their native language,
    Talking, scolding at each other.”

    Then the little Hiawatha
    Learned of every bird its language,
    Learned their names and all their secrets,
    How they built their nests in summer,
    Where they hid themselves in winter,
    Talked with them whene’er he met them,
    Called them “Hiawatha’s Chickens.”

    Of all beasts he learned the language,
    Learned their names and all their secrets,
    How the beavers built their lodges,
    Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
    How the reindeer ran so swiftly,
    Why the rabbit was so timid,
    Talked with them whene’er he met them,
    Called them “Hiawatha’s Brothers.”

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

 I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD.

“The Daffodil” is here out of compliment to a splendid school and a splendid teacher at Poughkeepsie.  I found the pupils learning the poem, the teacher having placed a bunch of daffodils in a vase before them. 
 It was a charming lesson. (1770-96.)

    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
      Outdid 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.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

 JOHN BARLEYCORN.

“John Barleycorn” is a favourite with boys because it pictures a successful struggle.  One editor has made a temperance poem of it, mistaking its true intent.  The poem is a strong expression of a plow-man’s love for a hardy, food-giving grain which has sprung to life through his efforts. (1759-96.)