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Poems About School

Table of Contents

  1. In School by Annette Wynne
  2. Fossils by Amos Russel Wells
  3. The Time to Get Ready by Amos Russel Wells
  4. A Pointed Discussion by Anonymous
  5. Persevere by Anonymous
  6. Little by Little by Anonymous
  7. The Parts of Speech by Anonymous
  8. Song of the School Bell by John Edward Everett
  9. School-Time by Anonymous
  10. The Little New Pupil by Annette Wynne
  11. Land of School by Annette Wynne
  12. After Vacation by Annette Wynne
  13. The Country Schoolhouse by Edwin L. Sabin
  14. Snow in Schooltime by Annette Wynne
  15. Yesterday the School Was Red by Annette Wynne

  1. In School

    by Annette Wynne

    In school, children sit in rows,
    Just the way the green corn grows,
    They should be glad they needn't stay
    In rows as corn does night and day.
    For it is fun to play and shout
    And run quite far when school is out.

  2. Fossils

    by Amos Russel Wells

    The time was Carboniferous,
    The place was by the share.
    Some molecules vociferous
    Of Fe SO4
    Induced a little conifer
    To take them in her stem,
    Letting go the blood and bone of her
    And making room for them
    Until the plant ridiculous
    Was a fossil nothing more
    All because of that iniquitous
    Shrewd Fe SO4

    'Twas the time of Homo Sapiens,
    The place,--a library
    Some dusty tomes of weight lmmense
    By subtle sorcery
    Induced a great philosopher
    To take them in his brain,
    Rejecting, you of course infer,
    Its former contents vain,
    Until the sage rapacious
    Became, one summer day,
    A leather-backed veracious,

  3. The Time to Get Ready

    by Amos Russel Wells

    "Jockey, little horse-jockey, riding to the race,
    Jaunty is your bearing, confident your face,
    Beautiful your goodly steed so powerful and fleet--
    But what, my little jockey is the matter with his feet?"

    "The shoes are loose, kind stranger. "Their click it is you hear.
    But I myself will fasten them securely, never fear,
    Since I have brought my tools along, to tighten every shoe;
    For while the horse is racing, I'll have nothing else to do!"

    "Jaunty little horse-jockey, with your silly plan,
    You are not more foolish than many a foolish man--
    Up into the saddle, off for the race of life.
    Expecting to get ready in the middle of the strife."

  4. A Pointed Discussion

    by Anonymous

    The Punctuation Points one day,
    In the type case where they lay,
    Each an earnest pleading pressed
    To be ruler of the rest.

    Said the Period, "I'm the end
    Toward which every line is penned."

    Cried the Comma, "Nay, but me
    Printers use most frequently."

    Bragged the Hyphen, "Lo! I stand
    With a word in either hand."

    Screamed the Exclamation, "Fie!
    All the writers' force am I."

    Urged the Question Mark in glee,
    "Don't men always ask for me?"

    Cried the Colon, "Printers call
    Me to introduce you all."

    Semicolon: "Mine the art
    To hold differing thoughts apart."

    But the Dash triumphantly
    Drove the others to the wall.
    "I'm the only Point," said he,
    "That the Authors use at all!"

  5. Persevere

    by Anonymous

    The fisher who draws in his net too soon,
    Won't have any fish to sell;
    The child who shuts up his book too soon,
    Won't learn any lessons well.

    If you would have your learning stay,
    Be patient,—stick with it and hold fast:
    The man who travels a mile each day,
    May get 'round the world at last.

  6. Little by Little

    by Anonymous

    “Little by little,” an acorn said,
    As it slowly sank in its mossy bed,
    “I am improving every day,
    Hidden deep in the earth away.”

    Little by little, each day it grew;
    Little by little, it sipped the dew;
    Downward it sent out a thread-like root;
    Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot.

    Day after day, and year after year,
    Little by little the leaves appear;
    And the slender branches spread far and wide,
    Till the mighty oak is the forest’s pride.

    Far down in the depths of the dark blue sea,
    An insect train work ceaselessly.
    Grain by grain, they are building well,
    Each one alone in its little cell.

    Moment by moment, and day by day,
    Never stopping to rest or to play,
    Rocks upon rocks, they are rearing high,
    Till the top looks out on the sunny sky.

    The gentle wind and the balmy air,
    Little by little, bring verdure there;
    Till the summer sunbeams gayly smile
    On the buds and the flowers of the coral isle.

    “Little by little,” said a thoughtful boy,
    “Moment by moment, I’ll well employ,
    Learning a little every day,
    And not spending all my time in play.
    And still this rule in my mind shall dwell,
    Whatever I do, I will do it well.

    “Little by little, I’ll learn to know
    The treasured wisdom of long ago;
    And one of these days, perhaps, we’ll see
    That the world will be the better for me.”
    And do you not think that this simple plan
    Made him a wise and useful man?

  7. The Parts of Speech

    by Anonymous

    Three little words you often see
    Are articles a, an, and the.
    A noun's the name of anything,
    As house or garden, hoop or swing.
    Instead of nouns the pronouns stand—
    Her head, your face, his arm, my hand.
    Adjectives tell the kind of noun,
    As great, small, pretty, white or brown.
    Verbs tell something to be done—
    To read, count, sing, laugh or run.
    How things are done the adverbs tell,
    As slowly, quickly, ill or well.
    Conjunctions join the words together,
    As men and women, wind or weather.
    The preposition stands before
    A noun, as in or through a door.
    The interjection shows surprise,
    As oh! how pretty, ah! how wise.
    The whole are called nine parts of speech,
    Which reading, writing, speaking teach.

  8. Song of the School Bell

    by John Edward Everett

    Kind neighbors, you and I are friends.
    And toiling for the selfsame ends,
    To help the children wiser grow,
    And teach them what they ought to know.

    Day after day, the winter through,
    I guard your sons and daughters true.
    Each day at nine I say, "hello",
    To the youthful world of joy and woe.
    Each day at nine are loudly sung
    Clear greetings from my iron tongue,
    While children rush with romp and race,
    As though to meet my fond embrace.
    Then through the hours they ply the mind
    To see what knowledge they may find—
    Sometimes with smile and radiant eye,
    Sometimes with frown and inward sigh.
    'Tis now with bright, now downcast, looks
    They bend their heads above their books.

    Kind neighbors, you and I are friends.
    And toiling for the selfsame ends,—
    To help the children wiser grow,
    And teach them what they ought to know.

  9. School-Time

    by Anonymous

    School time.
    Children dear,
    Hasten here,
    When the lesson-time is near;
    Hurry fast,
    Don’t be last;
    Minutes now are flying fast.

  10. The Little New Pupil

    by Annette Wynne

    Brand new pupil came to school,
    His eyes—how quick and bright!—
    I wonder, will he learn each rule—
    And learn to read and write?

    I hope he'll always wipe his feet
    On coming up the stair,
    And keep his face and garments neat,
    And brush his teeth and hair.

    A brand new pupil came to school,
    I fear he came to play—
    I fear he'll never keep the rule—
    He's but a kitten gray.

  11. Land of School

    by Annette Wynne

    The Land of School has desks and books,
    But has no fences, hills, and brooks;
    The children live there every day
    Even when they'd rather play;
    But the teacher, quite content,
    Is the king or president.

  12. After Vacation

    by Annette Wynne

    The first day at school is the very best one,
    If all days were first days then school would be fun.

  13. The Country Schoolhouse

    by Edwin L. Sabin

    The little country schoolhouse—you
    Remember it; of course you do!
    Within the angle snugly set,
    Where two long yellow highways met,
    And saplings planted here and there
    About the yard, and boxed with care
    As if to typify, in turn,
    The youngsters caught and caged, to learn.

    Around, the rolling pastures spread,
    With woodland patches garlanded,
    From which the breezes gladly bore
    Sly invitations to the door.
    Across the sills the bees' soft hum
    Was mingled with the muttered sum,
    And from their covert in the vale
    In plaintive pleading piped the quail.

    With basket and with pail equipped,
    Clear-eyed, tan-cheeked and berry-lipped,
    Athwart the pastures, down the road,
    They trudged to learning's poor abode;
    The pink sunbonnet, broad-brimmed straw;
    The bare brown feet that knew no law
    Of fashion's last; the bundled forms
    That laughed aloud at cold and storms.

    What tales the scarred desks might relate
    Of triumphs gained with book and slate!
    What lore the clapboards loose possess
    Of feats at noontime and recess!
    And doomed how oft the panes to see,
    Back up the road, and o'er the lea,
    Haste boy and girl, new worlds to find,
    The little schoolhouse left behind.

    O little country school! In vain
    May critics hold you in disdain.
    The greatest lessons that you taught
    Were not by chalk and pencil wrought.
    As oped your door on fields and sky,
    So, likewise just as wide and high,
    You opened to the eyes of youth
    The principles of love and truth.

  14. Snow in Schooltime

    by Annette Wynne

    All Saturday the sky was clear,
    But now again that Monday's here
    It snows; and through the window glass
    We see the flying snowflakes pass.

    The teacher never seems to know
    The fun it is to have the snow;
    She thinks that we can sit and think,
    And write long words with pen and ink,

    And listen well to three times three,
    And be as quiet as can be,
    And never once peep out around
    To see how much stays on the ground.

  15. Yesterday the School Was Red

    by Annette Wynne

    Yesterday the school was red,
    But now it's dressed in white;
    The fences are the same;—all night
    The Snow King worked while we were fast asleep in bed.
    He said, "I'll make the world below
    So white and new, the children will not know
    Just where the schoolhouse is, or find the way
    To go, and they will stay outside and play."
    And yet we found the way—he could not hide
    The posts that stuck up straight beside
    The road. But never mind, when school is done
    We'll make a Snow King in the yard and have the greatest fun.

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