ELEMENTARY SPEECH
1ST GRADE POETRY
2
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
The Ice-Cream Man 29
Something Told the Wild Geese 54
The Acorn Man 4
Spread God’s Word 55
The Animal Store 5
If I Can Stop One Heart from
Breaking 30
Animals to Love 6
In Harmony with Nature 31
Animals, Too 7
The Land of Counterpane 32
April Rain Song 8
A Little Bird 33
Be Even Tempered 9
Little Snail 34
Bed in Summer 10
Little Talk 35
A Bed in the Leaves 11
Little Things 36
A Bird 12
Little Turtle 37
Boats 13
Mothers Always Know 38
Catch a Little Rhyme 14
Mrs. Peck-Pigeon 39
Chums 15
My Dog 40
The Cow 16
My Favorite Word 41
Crocus 17
Neighborly 42
The Dark 18
October 43
Doll’s Song 19
On Eating Porridge Made of Peas
Recipe 44
Don’t Ever Cross a Crocodile 20
Enjoy Work 21
Forgive Others 22
Funny the Way Different Cars Start 23
Furry Bear 24
Grandfather Frog 25
Grown Up 26
I Keep Three Wishes Ready 27
I Think When I Read That Sweet Story of
Old 28
Poetry 45
Quiet 46
Recipe 47
Schoolroom Clock 48
The Secrets of Our Garden 49
Set a Good Example 50
The Skylark 51
The Snowbird 52
Someone 53
Please note: These are not required poems, but examples of
acceptable material. Comparable pieces may be chosen from
other sources if approved by school coordinator.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
Spring Morning 56
Spring Prayer 57
Star Faithful 58
The Steam Shovel 59
The Swing 60
Thank God for Little Things 61
Thanks, Dear Jesus 62
Traffic 63
Tree House 64
Trees 65
Tummyache 66
Walking 67
What Does the Little Birdie Say 68
What Is It? 69
What Is Pink? 70
Who Has Seen the Wind? 71
Wind on the Hill 72
Wind Song 73
Windy Nights 74
The Woodpecker 75
The Worm 76
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Acorn Man
I met a little acorn man
Just fallen from a tree.
I picked him up; he wasn’t really
Hurt, that I could see.
He brushed his jacket off and said,
“I am not hurt at all.
For by the time the summer goes
I’m ready for the fall!”
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Animal Store
If I had a hundred dollars to spend,
Or maybe a little more,
I’d hurry as fast as my legs would go
Straight to the animal store.
I wouldn’t say, “How much for this or that?”
“What kind of dog is he?”
I’d buy as many as rolled an eye,
Or wagged a tail at me!
I’d take the hound with the drooping ears
That sits by himself alone;
Cockers and Cairns and wobbly pups
For to be my very own.
I might buy a parrot all red and green,
And the monkey I saw before.
If I had a hundred dollars to spend,
Or maybe a little more.
­—Rachel Field
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Animals to Love
Animals furry.
Animals fuzzy.
Cats that are purry,
Bees that are buzzy.
Animals slim,
Animals slippery.
Birds that are trim.
Fish that are flippery.
Animals humpy.
Animals cuddly
Camels so bumpy
Ducks that are puddly.
Some are the pets
To come when I call.
Others are just
To love and that’s all!
—Eunice D. Breilid
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Animals, Too
Animals have feelings, too;
They need love, just as people do.
Animals have only cries
And wagging tails and hopeful eyes
To say they’re hungry, hurt, or scared,
Or how they wish that someone cared.
Helping animals sick or sad
Makes you and me feel strong and glad.
—Margaret E. Singleton
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
April Rain Song
Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night.
And I love the rain.
—Langston Hughes
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Be Even Tempered
Before you lose your temper
Take a breath and count to ten,
And silently ask God to help you
Gain control again…
And have a pardon handy
For the errors others make,
Offer love and understanding,
And banish hate and ache …
Be even tempered always,
Be loving and forgiving,
And you will be rewarded
With peace and joyful living!
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Bed in Summer
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
A Bed in the Leaves
My yard is full of leaves today,
Brown and yellow and red.
I think I’ll rake them in a pile
Higher than my head.
Then I’ll pretend it is my bed.
I’ll jump in very quick,
And pile the leaves up over me
For covers soft and thick.
I’ll just lie there so nice and warm
And look up at the sky,
And watch more leaves float down for me.
To rake up by and by.
—Marian Kennedy
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
A Bird
A bird came down the walk,
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.
And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.
—Emily Dickinson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Boats
The steamboat is a slowpoke,
You simply cannot rush him.
The sailboat will not move at all
Without a wind to push him;
But the speedboat, with his sharp red nose,
Is quite a different kind;
He tosses high the spray and leaves
The other boats behind.
—Rowan Bastin Bennett
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Catch a Little Rhyme
Once upon a time
I caught a little rhyme.
I set it on the floor
but it ran right out the door.
I chased it on my bicycle
but it melted to an icicle.
I scooped it up in my hat
but it turned into a cat.
I caught it by the tail
but it stretched into a whale.
I followed it in a boat
but it changed into a goat.
When I fed it tin and paper
it became a tall skyscraper.
Then it grew into a kite
and flew far out of sight.
—Eve Merriam
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Chums
He sits and begs, he gives a paw,
He is, as you can see,
The finest dog you ever saw,
And he belongs to me.
He follows everywhere I go
And even when I swim.
I laugh because he thinks, you know,
That I belong to him.
But still no matter what we do
We never have a fuss;
And so I guess it must be true
That we belong to us.
—Arthur Guiterman
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Cow
The cow stands in the big green field,
She stands there all the day.
I wonder what she thinks about
While chewing on the hay?
Perhaps about the ice-cream cone?
Perhaps about a ball?
I wonder what she thinks about,
Or if she thinks at all!
I guess I’ll never know, because
The cow can’t talk, you see.
And if she can, she never, never,
Never talks to me!
—Albert B. Southwick
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Crocus
The crocus had slept in his little round house
So soundly the whole winter through;
There came a tap-tapping,
‘Twas Spring at the door:
“Up! Up! We are waiting for you!”
The crocus peeped out from his little brown house
And nodded his gay little head;
“Good morning, Miss Snowdrop
And how do you do
This fine, chilly morning?” he said.
—Sarah J. Day
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Dark
The dark is warm
As the touch of fur.
The dark is soft
As a kitten’s purr.
It wraps me snug
In velvet wings
With comfortable
Murmurings.
The dark says, “Sleep,
My small one, rest
Like a baby wren
In its tree-house nest.”
It watches me
With loving looks
And brings me dreams
Like storybooks.
—Ethel Jacobson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Doll’s Song
Matilda Jane, you never look
At any toy or picture book;
I show you pretty things in vain—
You must be blind, Matilda Jane.
I ask you riddles, tell you tales,
But all our conversation fails;
You never answer me again—
I fear you’re dumb, Matilda Jane!
Matilda, darling, when I call,
You never seem to hear at all;
I shout with all my might and main
But you’re so deaf, Matilda Jane!
Matilda Jane, you needn’t mind:
For though you’re deaf and dumb and blind,
There’s some one loves you, it is plain—
And that is me, Matilda Jane!
—Lewis Carroll
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Don’t Ever Cross a Crocodile
Don’t ever cross a crocodile,
However few his faults.
Don’t ever dare
A dancing bear
To teach you how to waltz.
Don’t ever poke a rattlesnake
Who’s sleeping in the sun
And say the poke
Was just a joke
And really all in fun.
Don’t ever lure a lion close
With gifts of steak and suet.
Though lion-looks
Are nice in books
Don’t ever, ever do it.
—Kaye Starbird
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Enjoy Work
A mother rocks a cradle
With a smile on her face …
An astronaut hums softly
As he charts his way in space …
A surgeon heaves a thankful sigh
Another life is saved …
A construction worker chuckles
As he drives on roads he paved …
God gives a special task to do
To each and every one
And blesses us with special joy
Each time a job’s well done!
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Forgive Others
God gave a tough assignment
For all of us to do—
To pray for all those who hurt us,
And to love our enemies, too …
So, when other people wrong you,
Instead of striking back,
Say a little prayer for them
For qualities they lack …
Ask the Lord to give them
An extra portion of
Insight and compassion—
And to bless them with His love.
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Funny the Way Different Cars Start
Funny the way
Different cars start.
Some with a chunk and jerk,
Some with a cough and a puff of smoke
Out of the back,
Some with only a little click—with
hardly any noise.
Funny the way
Different cars run.
Some rattle and bang,
Some whirrr,
Some knock and knock.
Some purr
And hummm
Smoothly on with hardly any noise.
—Dorothy Baruch
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Furry Bear
If I were a bear,
And a big bear too,
I shouldn’t much care
If it froze or snew;
I shouldn’t much mind
If it snowed or friz—
I’d be all fur-lined
With a coat like his!
For I’d have fur boots and a brown fur wrap,
And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap.
I’d have a fur muffle-ruff to cover my jaws,
And brown fur mittens on my big brown paws.
With a big brown furry-down up to my head,
I’d sleep all the winter in a big fur bed.
—A. A. Milne
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Grandfather Frog
Fat green frog sits by the pond,
Big frog, bull frog, grandfather frog.
Croak—croak—croak
Shuts his eye, opens his eye,
Rolls his eye, winks his eye
Waiting for
A little fat fly.
Croak, croak.
I go walking down by the pond,
I want to see the big green frog.
I want to stare right into his eye.
Rolling, winking, funny old eye.
But oh! he hears me coming by.
Croak—croak—
SPLASH!
—Louise Seaman Bechtal
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Grown Up
I’m growing up, my mother says—
Today she said I’d grown;
The reason why is this: Now I
Can do things all alone.
And though I’m glad that I don’t need
Someone to brush my hair
And wash my hands and face and button
Buttons everywhere.
Although I’m very glad indeed
To help myself instead,
I hope that I won’t have to try
To tuck myself in bed.
—Dorothy Aldis
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
I Keep Three Wishes Ready
I keep three wishes ready,
Lest I should chance to meet,
Any day a fairy
Coming down the street.
I’d hate to have to stammer,
Or have to think them out,
For it’s very hard to think things up
When a fairy is about.
And I’d hate to lose my wishes,
For fairies fly away,
And perhaps I’d never have a chance
On any other day.
So I keep three wishes ready,
Lest I should chance to meet,
Any day a fairy
Coming down the street.
—Annette Wynne
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
I Think When I Read That Sweet Story of Old
I think when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as lambs to His fold,
I should like to have been with them then.
I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arm had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen His kind look when
He said,
“Let the little ones come unto me.”
—Jemima Luke
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Ice-Cream Man
When summer’s in the city,
And bricks a blaze of heat,
The Ice-Cream Man with his little cart
Goes trundling down the street.
Beneath his round umbrella,
Oh, what a joyful sight,
To see him fill the cones with mounds
Of cooling brown or white:
Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry,
Or chilly things to drink
From bottles full of frosty-fizz,
Green, orange, white, or pink.
His cart might be a flower bed
Of roses and sweet peas,
The way the children cluster round
As thick as honeybees.
—Rachel Field
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
—Emily Dickinson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
In Harmony with Nature
There are wonders all around us
To see, to touch, to hear—
God’s handiwork surrounds us
And reminds us He is near ...
So every time you smell a flower,
Or see a starlit sky,
Or hear a cricket chirping,
Or feel a breeze blow by,
Or witness all the splendor
A changing season brings,
You’ve touched the hand of God above—
The Creator of all things.
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Land of Counterpane
When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay
To keep me happy all the day.
And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;
And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.
I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
A Little Bird
“What do you have for breakfast?”
I asked a little bird,
“Orange juice and cereal?”
He didn’t say a word
He merely ate a flower seed
And something from a limb
Which might, I guess, be cereal
And orange juice—for him!
—Aileen Fisher
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Little Snail
I saw a little snail
Come down the garden walk,
He wagged his head this way …
that way …
Like a clown in a circus.
He looked from side to side
As though he were from a different
country,
I have always said he carries his house
on his back …
Today in the rain
I saw that it was his umbrella.
—Hilda Conkling
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Little Talk
Don’t you think it’s probable
that beetles, bugs and bees
talk about a lot of things—
you know, such things as these:
The kind of weather where they live
in jungles tall with grass
and earthquakes in their villages
whenever people pass!
Of course, we’ll never know if bugs
talk very much at all,
because our ears are far too big
for talk that is so small.
—Aileen Fisher
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Little Things
Little drops of water,
Little grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean,
And the pleasant land.
Thus the little minutes,
Humble though they be,
Make the mighty ages,
Of eternity.
—Ebenezer Cobham Brewer
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Little Turtle
There was a little turtle.
He lived in a box.
He swam in a puddle.
He climbed on the rocks.
He snapped at a mosquito.
He snapped at a flea.
He snapped at a minnow.
And he snapped at me.
He caught the mosquito.
He caught the flea.
He caught the minnow.
But he didn’t catch me.
—Nicholas Vachel Lindsay
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Mothers Always Know
The thing that really puzzles me
Is how much Mothers know.
Mine seems to know ahead of time
When it will rain or blow.
She knows just what will fix a bump
On elbow, shin, or knee,
And scratches that I get sometimes
When falling from a tree.
But this is one time she’ll be fooled.
It’s nearly Mother’s Day
And still she doesn’t know I have
Her present hid away.
—Jocinna C. Miller
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Mrs. Peck-Pigeon
Mrs. Peck-Pigeon
Is picking for bread
Bob-bob-bob
Goes her little round head.
Tame as a pussy-cat
In the street,
Step-step-step
Go her little red feet.
With her little red feet
And her little round head,
Mrs. Peck-Pigeon
Goes picking for bread.
—Eleanor Farjeon
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
My Dog
His nose is short and scrubby;
His ears hang rather low;
And he always brings the stick back,
No matter how far you throw.
He gets spanked rather often
For things he shouldn’t do,
Like lying on beds, and barking,
And eating up shoes when they’re new.
He always wants to be going
Where he isn’t suppose to go.
He tracks up the house when it’s snowing—
Oh puppy, I love you so.
—Marchette Chute
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
My Favorite Word
There is one word—
My favorite—
The very, very best.
It isn’t No or Maybe,
It’s Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, YES!
“Yes, yes, you may,” and
“Yes, of course,” and
“Yes, please help yourself.”
And when I want a piece of cake,
“Why, yes. It’s on the shelf.”
Some candy? “Yes.”
A cookie? “Yes.”
A movie? “Yes, we’ll go.”
I love it when they say my word:
Yes, Yes, YES! (Not No.)
—Lucia and James L. Hymes, Jr.
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Neighborly
My mother sends our neighbors things
On fancy little plates.
One day she sent them custard pie
And they sent back stuffed dates.
And once she sent them angel food
And they returned ice cream;
Another time for purple plums
They gave us devil’s dream.
She always keeps enough for us
No matter what she sends.
Our goodies seem much better
When we share them with our friends.
And even if they didn’t, why,
It’s surely lots of fun,
‘Cause that way we get two desserts
Instead of only one!
—Violet A. Storey
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
October
The summer is over,
The trees are all bare,
There is mist in the garden
And frost in the air.
The meadows are empty
And gathered the sheaves—
But isn’t it lovely
Kicking up leaves!
John from the garden
Has taken the chairs;
It’s dark in the evening
And cold on the stairs.
Winter is coming
And everyone grieves—
But isn’t it lovely
Kicking up leaves!
—Rose Fyleman
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
On Eating Porridge Made of Peas Recipe
Peas porridge hot,
Peas porridge—hold!
Who eats peas porridge?
Who is so bold?
I know I never munch
Peas porridge for my lunch,
and, as for dinner,
Peas porridge is no winner.
Peas porridge ice cold,
Peas porridge tepid,
Who eats peas porridge?
Who could be so stupid?
Peas porridge nine days old—ugh!
I think I’d prefer to eat a rug.
—Louis Phillips
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Poetry
What is poetry? Who knows?
Not a rose, but the scent of the rose;
Not the sky, but the light in the sky;
Not the fly, but the gleam of the fly;
Not the sea, but the sound of the sea;
Not myself, but what makes me
See, hear, and feel something that prose
Cannot: and what it is, who knows?
—Eleanor Farjeon
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Quiet
I can be as quiet as a spider or an ant.
Quiet as a butterfly; don’t tell me that I can’t.
I can be as quiet as a little fleecy cloud,
Quiet as a snowflake; now that isn’t very loud.
I can be as quiet as a baby chick asleep,
Quieter than that! How quiet can you keep?
—Anonymous
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Recipe
I can make a sandwich.
I can really cook.
I made up this recipe
that should be in a book:
Take a jar of peanut butter,
Give it a spread,
until you have covered
a half a loaf, of bread.
Pickles and pineapple,
strawberry jam
salami and bologna
and a half a pound of ham—
Pour some catsup on it.
Mix the mustard well.
Will it taste delicious?
Only you can tell.
—Walter Maughan
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Schoolroom Clock
There’s a neat little clock
In the schoolroom it stands,
And it points to the time
With its two little hands.
And may we, like the clock,
Keep a face clean and bright,
With hands ever ready
To do what is right.
—Mother Goose
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Secrets of Our Garden
You think it’s only a garden,
With roses along the wall;
I’ll tell you the truth about it—
It isn’t a garden at all
It’s really Robin Hood’s forest,
And over by the big tree
Is the very place where fat Friar Tuck
Fought with the Miller of Dee.
And back of the barn is a cavern
Where Rob Roy really hid;
On the other side is a treasure chest
That belonged to Captain Kidd.
That isn’t the pond that you see there,
It’s an ocean deep and wide,
Where six-masted ships are waiting
To sail on the rising tide.
Of course it looks like a garden
It’s all so sunny and clear—
You’d be surprised if you really knew
The things that have happened here!
—Rupert Sargent Holland
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Set a Good Example
“Do as I say, not as I do”—
What a foolish point of view!
To make a point to those you teach,
You must practice what you preach …
Set good examples day by day,
And then sincerely you can say—
“Do as I say and as I do”
To everyone who follows you!
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Skylark
The earth was green, the sky was blue:
I saw and heard one sunny morn
A skylark hang between the two,
A singing speck above the corn:
A stage below, in gay accord,
White butterflies danced on the wing,
And still the singing skylark soared,
And silent sank, and soared to sing.
The cornfield stretched a tender green
To right and left beside my walks;
I knew he had a nest unseen
Somewhere among the million stalks.
And as I paused to hear his song,
While swift the sunny moments slid.
Perhaps his mate sat listening long,
And listened longer than I did.
—Christina Rossetti
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51
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Snowbird
When all the ground with snow is white,
The merry snowbird comes,
And hops about with great delight
To find the scattered crumbs.
How glad he seems to get to eat
A piece of cake or bread!
He wears no shoes upon his feet,
Nor hat upon his head.
But happiest is he, I know,
Because no cage with bars
Keeps him from walking on the snow
And printing it with stars.
—Frank Dempster Sherman
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52
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Someone
Someone came knocking,
At my wee, small door;
Someone came knocking,
I’m sure —sure—sure;
I listened, I opened,
I looked to left and right,
But nought there was a-stirring
In the still dark night;
Only the busy beetle
Tap-tapping in the wall;
Only from the forest
The screech owl’s call,
Only the cricket whistling
While the dewdrops fall,
So I know not who came knocking,
At all, at all, at all.
—Walter de la Mare
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53
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Something Told the Wild Geese
Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, “Snow.”
Leaves were green and stirring
Berries, luster-glossed
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned, “Frost.”
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice.
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese,
It was time to fly—
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
—Rachel Field
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54
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Spread God’s Word
Sometimes
I want to shout
with glee—
“Hey everybody,
Look at me—
I found God!”
I found Him
in the warmth of friendship
in the joy of giving
I found Him in loving
in laughing—
in living!
I found God
And you can find Him, too—
Just open up your heart
And God will come
to YOU!
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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55
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Spring Morning
Where am I going? I don’t quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow,
Up on the hill where the pine trees blow,
Anywhere, anywhere, I don’t know.
Where am I going? The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going? The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.
If you were a cloud and sailed up there,
You’d sail on water as blue as the air,
And you’d see me here in the fields and say:
“Doesn’t the sky look green today?”
—A. A. Milne
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56
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Spring Prayer
For flowers that bloom about our feet;
For tender grass, so fresh, so sweet;
For song of bird, and hum of bee;
For all things fair we hear or see,
Father in heaven, we thank Thee!
For blue of stream and blue of sky,
For pleasant shade of branches high;
For fragrant air and cooling breeze;
For beauty of the blooming trees,
Father in heaven, we thank Thee!
—Ralph W Emerson
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57
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Star Faithful
Let us with a joyful mind,
Praise the Lord, for He is kind,
For His mercies shall endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
—John Milton
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58
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Steam Shovel
The steam digger
Is much bigger
Than the biggest beast I know.
He snorts and roars
Like the dinosaurs
That lived long years ago.
He crouches low
On his tractor paws
And scoops the dirt up
With his jaws.
Then swings his long
Stiff neck around
And spits it out
Upon the ground …
Oh, the steam digger
Is much bigger
Than the biggest beast I know.
It snorts and roar
Like the dinosaurs
That lived long years ago.
—Rowena Bennett
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59
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Swing
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside—
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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60
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Thank God for Little Things
Thank You, God, for little things
that often come our way—
The things we take for granted
but don’t mention when we pray—
The unexpected courtesy,
the thoughtful, kindly deed—
A hand reached out to help us
in the time of sudden need—
Oh make us more aware, dear God,
of little daily graces
That come to us with “Sweet Surprise”
from never-dreamed-of places.
—Helen Steiner Rice
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61
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Thanks, Dear Jesus
THANKS dear Jesus for dying for me,
THANKS for your all on Calvary’s tree,
THANKS for your payment to set me free,
THANKS for letting me ransomed be.
THANKS for the tomb that could not contain
My Lord and my Savior wherein He had lain,
THANKS for your resurrection, for ascending
on high,
THANKS for your promise to return by and by.
THANKS for your love because it never fails,
THANKS for your grace, it always prevails,
THANKS for the Holy Spirit, He keeps me
from sin;
THANKS be to Him who lives within.
—Ed Brandt
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62
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Traffic
In summertime our garden walk
Is like a summer street;
So many bugs run up and down
With tiny little feet.
The ants are shiny taxicabs,
Oh, my! They go so fast!
Here comes a caterpillar bus
Who slowly travels past.
I’m very sure that bugs must have
Some very special vision;
For I have never, never seen
A bugmobile collision!
—Jane Lear Talley
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63
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Tree House
A tree house, a tree house,
A secret you and me house,
A high up in the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house.
A street house, a neat house,
Be sure and wipe your feets
It’s not my kind of house at all—
Let’s go live in a tree house.
—Anonymous
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64
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
—Joyce Kilmer
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65
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Tummyache
Father said that maybe
it was too much candy.
Mother said more likely
it was gooseberry jam.
Father said that maybe
with the sweet things handy
I forgot my gravy
and vegetables and ham.
Mother said that prob’ly
I had been too gob’ly.
Father nodded “probably”
and so did Gram.
But I said “Certainly,
it COULDN’T have been candy.
It must have been the gravy
and vegetables
and ham.”
—Aileen Fisher
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66
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Walking
When Daddy
Walks
With Jean and me,
We have a
Lot of fun
Cause we can’t
Walk as fast
As he,
Unless we
Skip and
Run
I stretch,
And stretch
My legs so far,
I nearly slip
And fall—
But how
Does Daddy
Take such steps?
He doesn’t stretch
At all!
—Grace Ellen Glaubitz
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67
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
What Does the Little Birdie Say
What does the little birdie say,
In her nest at peep of day?
“Let me fly,” says little birdie,
“Mother, let me fly away.”
“Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till the little wings are stronger.”
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.
What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
“Let me rise and fly away.”
“Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger.”
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby, too, shall fly away.
—Alfred Tennyson
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68
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
What Is It?
Tall ears,
Twinkly nose,
Tiny tail,
And—hop, he goes!
What is he—
Can you guess?
I feed him carrots
And watercress.
His ears are long,
His tail is small—
And he doesn’t make any
Noise at all!
Tall ears,
Twinkly nose,
Tiny tail,
And—hop, he goes!
—Mcirie Louise Allen
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69
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
What Is Pink?
What is pink? A rose is pink
By the fountain’s brink.
What is red? A poppy’s red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? The sky is blue
Where the clouds float through
What is white? A swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? Pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? The grass is green
With small flowers between.
What is violet? Clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
—Christina Rossetti
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70
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Who Has Seen the Wind?
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you.
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I.
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.
—Christina Rosetti
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71
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Wind on the Hill
No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.
It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.
But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.
And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.
So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes …
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.
—A. A. Milne
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72
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Wind Song
When the wind blows
the quiet things speak.
Some whisper, some clang,
Some creak.
Grasses swish.
Treetops sigh.
Flags slap
and snap at the sky.
Wires on poles
whistle and hum.
Ash cans roll.
Windows drum.
When the wind goes—
suddenly
then,
the quiet things
are quiet again.
—Lilian Moore
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73
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
Windy Nights
Whenever the moon and stars are set,
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?
Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then
By he comes back at the gallop again.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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74
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Woodpecker
The woodpecker pecked out a little round hole
And made him a house in the telephone pole.
One day when I watched he poked out his head,
And he had on a hood and a collar of red.
When the streams of rain pour out of the sky,
And the sparkles of lightning go flashing by,
And the big, big wheels of thunder roll,
He can snuggle back in the telephone pole.
—Elizabeth Madox Roberts
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75
Student Activities 1st Grade Poetry Handbook
The Worm
When the earth is turned in spring
The worms are fat as anything.
And birds come flying all around
To eat the worms right off the ground.
They like worms just as much as I
Like bread and milk and apple pie.
And once, when I was very young,
I put a worm right on my tongue.
I didn’t like the taste a bit,
And so I didn’t swallow it.
But oh, it makes my Mother squirm
Because she thinks I ate the worm!
—Ralph Bergengren
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76
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
2ND GRADE POETRY
2
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
How to Write a Letter 30
Portrait by a Neighbor 57
After the Party 4
I Want to Know 31
Questions at Night 58
The Arrow and the Song 5
I Wish I Were a Little Star 32
Rabbits 59
At the Garden Gate 6
If I Can Stop One Heart from
Breaking 33
Rain in Summer 60
The Balloon 7
Bedtime 8
Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin
Brown 9
In the Morning 34
Jabbering in School 35
The Jolly Woodchuck 36
Blessing of God’s Love 10
A Kitten 37
Books Fall Open 11
The Kitten and the Falling Leaves 38
The Brook 12
Little Tiger Cat 39
Cat 13
The Lost Doll 40
Catalogue 14
Make Me a Picture of the Sun 41
A Child’s Prayer 15
Marching Song 42
A Child’s Thought of God 16
Missing 43
Eletelephony 17
The Monkeys and the Crocodile 44
The Elf and the Dormouse 18
The Mountain and the Squirrel 45
The Favorite 19
The Mouse 46
Galoshes 20
Mrs. Brown 47
General Store 21
My Books and I 48
The Gingerbread Man 22
My Cat, Mrs. Lick-A-Chin 49
Going to Bed 23
My Policeman 50
Good Morning 24
My Visitors 51
Good Morning 25
The North Wind Doth Blow 52
A Good Play 26
Old Glory 53
Habits of the Hippopotamus 27
Opossum 54
Halfway Down 28
Ornithology 55
Have Good Intentions 29
Our Snowman 56
Please note: These are not required poems, but examples of
acceptable material. Comparable pieces may be chosen from
other sources if approved by school coordinator.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
Rain in the Night 61
The Rain Song 62
The Rainbow 63
The Reason for the Pelican 64
Seal 65
The Shepherd Boy Sings 66
Slow but Sure 67
So Long as There Is Weather 68
The Things I Do 69
Timothy Boon 70
Tiptoe 71
To God, with Love 72
To Meet Mr. Lincoln 73
Tomorrow 74
Verbs 75
Very Lovely 76
Weather 77
Weathers 78
What in the World? 79
What Robin Told 80
Will There Really Be a Morning 81
Winter Is Coming 82
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
3
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
After the Party
Jonathan Blake
Ate too much cake,
He isn’t himself today;
He’s tucked up in bed
With a feverish head,
And he doesn’t much care to play.
Jonathan Blake
Ate too much cake,
And three kinds of ice cream too—
From latest reports
He’s quite out of sorts,
And I’m sure the reports are true.
I’m sorry to state
That he also ate
Six pickles, a pie, and a pear;
In fact I confess
It’s a reasonable guess
He ate practically everything there.
Yes, Jonathan Blake
Ate too much cake,
So he’s not at his best today;
But there’s no need for sorrow—
If you come back tomorrow,
I’m sure he’ll be out to play.
—William Wise
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
4
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Arrow and the Song
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 song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak,
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
—Henry W. Longfellow
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
5
6
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
At the Garden Gate
Who so late
at the garden gate?
Emily, Kate,
and John.
(We found him
A little ways
Up the road,”
said Emily,
Kate,
and John.)
“John,
where have you been?
It’s after six;
Supper is on,
And you’ve been gone
An hour,
John!”
Who so late
at the garden gate?
Emily, Kate,
and John.
“John,
put that thing down!
Do you want to get warts?”
(They all three have ‘em
By last reports.)
“We’ve been, we’ve been,
We’ve just been over
The field,” said,
John.
(Emily, Kate,
and John.)
Still, finding toads
Is the best of
Sports,
Say Emily,
Kate,
and John.
Who so late
at the garden gate?
Emily, Kate
and John
“John,
what have you got?”
“A whopping toad
Isn’t he big?
He’s a terrible
Load.
—David McCord
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Balloon
I went to the park
And I bought a balloon.
It sailed through the sky
Like a large orange moon.
It bumped and it fluttered
And swam with the clouds.
Small birds flew around it,
In high chirping crowds.
It bounced and it balanced
And bowed with the breeze.
It skimmed past the leaves
On the tops of the trees.
And then as the day
Started turning to night
I gave a short jump
And I held the string tight
And home we all sailed
Through the darkening sky,
The orange balloon, the small birds,
And I.
—Karla Kuskin
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
7
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Bedtime
Five minutes, five minutes more please!
Let me stay five minutes more!
Can’t I just finish the castle
I’m building here on the floor?
Can’t I just finish the story
I’m reading here in my book?
Can’t I just finish this bead-chain—
It almost is finished, look!
Can’t I just finish this game, please!
When a game’s once begun
It’s a pity never to find out
Whether you’ve lost or won.
Can’t I just stay five minutes?
Well, can’t I just stay four?
Three minutes then? two minutes?
Can’t I stay one minute more?
—Eleanor Farjeon
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
8
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin Brown
Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin Brown
Was really the dirtiest boy in town.
He’d play in the mud, and splash in the pool,
When starting out each morning for school.
His teacher said, with a sorry frown,
“You certainly are a disgrace to the town.
Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin Brown.”
Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin Brown
Was caught, when policemen were searching the town
To find a bad boy. Said they: “Here’s the scamp!
He surely looks like a wild little tramp!”
But as he stood trembling, with tears running down,
Said his clean little sister, in dainty pink gown,
“His name is Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin Brown!”
Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin Brown
Is now without spot, from his soles to his crown.
His shoes are polished—his suit is clean
A neater boy could never be seen.
And teacher says now with a smile, looking down:
“When you’ve grown, you’ll be Mayor of the town,
Bernard Bartholomew Benjamin Brown.”
—Carolyn Cawthorne
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
9
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Blessing of God’s Love
Each day I thank the Lord above
For these: The blessings of His love,
The emerald grass beneath my feet,
The scent of roses, soft and sweet.
The coolness of a summer breeze,
The sound of birds in budding trees,
The laughter of a child at play,
The golden sun at dawn of day,
The warmth of spring that fills the air,
The fruitful birth where ground was bare.
The waves that dance upon the sea,
The wonder of what life can be;
The love of friends, the joy of birth,
The miracles of Mother Earth,
The winter, summer, spring, and fall,
I thank the Lord I’ve shared them all.
—Patricia Emme
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
10
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Books Fall Open
Books fall open,
you fall in,
delighted where
you’ve never been;
hear voices not once
heard before,
reach world on world
through door on door;
find unexpected
keys to things
locked up beyond
imaginings.
What might you be,
perhaps become,
because one book
is somewhere? Some
wise delver into
wisdom, wit,
and wherewithal
has written it.
True books will venture,
dare you out,
whisper secrets,
maybe shout
across the gloom
to you in need,
who hanker for
a book to read.
—David McCord
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
11
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Brook
I know a little prattling brook
That chatters all the day;
It always is in such a rush,
With never time to stay.
And yet it seems quite friendly like,
A-babbling this and that;
I do believe ‘twould like to stay
And have a cozy chat.
Sometimes it seems so very near,
A-coaxing me to play;
But all the time it’s running far,
Just miles and miles away.
Do you suppose the time will come
When I shall ever learn
That brooks keep running on and on
And never do return?
—Florence Piper Tuttle
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
12
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Cat
My cat
Is quiet.
She moves without a sound.
Sometimes she stretches herself curving
On tiptoe.
Sometimes she crouches low
And creeping.
Sometimes she rubs herself against a chair,
And there
With a miew and a miew
And a purrr purrr purrr
She curls up
And goes to sleep.
My cat
Lives through a black hole
Under the house.
So one day I
Crawled after her.
And it was dark
And I sat
And didn’t know
Where to go
And then—
Two yellow-white
Round little lights
Came . . . Moving . . . Moving . . . toward me.
And there
With a miew and a miew
And a purrr purrr purrr
My cat
Rubbed, soft, against me.
And I knew
The lights
Were MY CAT’S EYES
In the dark.
—Dorothy Baruch
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
13
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Catalogue
Cats sleep fat and walk thin.
Cats, when they sleep, slump;
When they wake, pull in—
And where the plump’s been
There’s skin. Cats walk thin.
Cats wait in a lump,
Jump in a streak.
Cats when they jump, are sleek
As a grape slipping its skin—
They have technique.
Oh, cats don’t creak.
They sneak.
Cats sleep fat.
They spread comfort beneath them
Like a good mat
As if they picked the place
And then sat.
You walk around one
As if he were the City Hall
After that.
—Rosalie Moore
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
14
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Child’s Prayer
God make my life a little light,
Within the world to glow;
A tiny flame that burneth bright
Wherever I may go.
God make my life a little flower,
That giveth joy to all,
Content to bloom in native bower,
Although its place be small
God make my life a little song,
That comforteth the sad;
That helpeth others to be strong,
And makes the singer glad.
God make my life a little staff,
Whereon the weak may rest,
That so what health and strength I have
May serve my neighbors best.
—M. Bentam Edwards
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
15
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Child’s Thought of God
They say that God lives very high!
But if you look above the pines
You cannot see our God. And why?
And if you dig down in the mines
You never see Him in the gold,
Though from Him all that’s glory shines.
God is so good, He wears a fold
Of heaven and earth across His face—
Like secrets kept, for love untold.
But still I feel that His embrace
Slides down by thrills, through all things
Through sight and sound of every place:
As if my tender mother laid
On my shut lids her kisses’ pressure,
Half-waking me at night and said
“Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser?”
—Elizabeth Barrett Browning
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
16
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Eletelephony
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant—
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)
Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee—
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong.)
—Laura E. Richards
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Elf and the Dormouse
Under a toadstool
Crept a wee Elf
Out of the rain
To shelter himself.
Under the toadstool,
Sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse
All in a heap.
Trembled the wee Elf,
Frightened, and yet
Fearing to fly away
Lest he get wet.
To the next shelter—
Maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf
Smiled a wee smile.
Tugged till the toadstool
Toppled in two.
Holding it over him
Gaily he flew.
Soon he was safe home
Dry as could be.
Soon woke the Dormouse—
“Good gracious me!”
“Where is my toadstool?”
Loud he lamented.
And that’s how umbrellas
First were invented.
—Oliver Herford
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Favorite
Said the rubber dog with the long straight tail
To the duck with the emerald breast,
“You are very lovely to look upon,
But the baby loves me best.
For she takes my whole head in her mouth,
And I patiently let her chew,
And suck and bite with all her might,
To help her teeth come through.”
Said the emerald duck, “She would never dare
Do such a thing to me,
But she finds me floating in her bath,
And laughs and crows with glee.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said the rubber dog,
“Let us together stand
On the bureau top, and see which one
She first takes in her hand.”
So they took their stand on the bureau top,
And stood there side by side,
The dog held his tail up straight and high,
And the green duck swelled with pride.
Then the baby came on her nurse’s arm,
And their hearts went pit-a-pat,
The baby did not glance at them,
She was hugging the worsted cat!
—Mildred Whitney Stillman
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Galoshes
Susie’s galoshes
Make splishes and sploshes
And slooshes and sloshes
As Susie steps slowly
Along in the slush.
They stamp and they tramp
On the ice and concrete,
They get stuck in the muck and the mud;
But Susie likes much better to hear
The slippery slush
As it slooshes and sloshes,
And splishes and sploshes,
All around her galoshes!
—Rhoda Bacmeister
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20
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
General Store
Someday I’m going to have a store
With a tinkly bell hung over the door,
With real glass cases and counters wide
And drawers all spilly with things inside.
There’ll be a little of everything;
Bolts of calico; balls of string;
Jars of peppermint; tins of tea;
Pots and kettles and crockery;
Seeds in packets; scissors bright;
Kegs of sugar, brown and white;
Sarsaparilla for picnic lunches,
Bananas and rubber boots in bunches.
I’ll fix the window and dust each shelf,
And take the money in all myself.
It will be my store and I will say:
“What can I do for you today?”
—Rachel Field
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21
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Gingerbread Man
The gingerbread man gave a gingery shout:
“Quick! Open the oven and let me out!”
He stood up straight in his baking pan.
He jumped on the floor and away he ran.
“Catch me,” he called, “if you can, can, can.”
The gingerbread man met a cock and a pig
And a dog that was brown and twice as big
As himself. But he called to them all as he ran,
“You can’t catch a runaway gingerbread man.”
The gingerbread man met a reaper and a sower.
The gingerbread man met a thresher and mower;
But no matter how fast they scampered and ran
They couldn’t catch up with the gingerbread man.
Then he came to a fox and he turned to face him.
He dared Old Reynard to follow and chase him;
But when he stepped under the fox’s nose
Something happened. What do you s’pose?
The fox gave a snap. The fox gave a yawn,
And the gingerbread man was gone, gone, GONE.
—Rowena Bennett
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22
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Going to Bed
I’m always told to hurry up—
Which I’d be glad to do,
If there were not so many things
That need attending to
But first I have to find my towel
Which fell behind the rack
And when a pillow’s thrown at me
I have to throw it back.
And then I have to get the things
I need in bed with me
Like marbles and my birthday train
And Pete the chimpanzee.
I have to see my polliwog
Is safely in its pan,
And stand a minute on my head
To be quite sure I can.
I have to bounce upon my bed
To see if it will sink
And then when I am covered up
I find I need a drink
—Marchette Chute
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Good Morning
One day I saw a downy duck,
With feathers on his back;
I said, “Good morning, downy duck,”
And he said, “Quack, quack, quack.”
One day I saw a timid mouse,
He was so shy and meek;
I said, “Good morning, timid mouse,”
And he said, “Squeak, squeak, squeak.”
One day I saw a curly dog,
I met him with a bow;
I said, “Good morning, curly dog,”
And he said, “Bow-wow-wow.”
One day I saw a scarlet bird,
He woke me from my sleep;
I said, “Good morning, scarlet bird,”
And he said, “Cheep, cheep, cheep.”
—Muriel Sipe
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Good Morning
Good morning, nurse, good morning, cook,
Good morning, all of you;
Good morning to my picture-book,
And to my window-view,
Good morning to the bird out there
That cannot sing enough,
And to the carpet which my bare
Feet press on, soft and rough.
Good morning to the breakfast smell
That rises from below,
And to the breakfast sound as well
That clatters to and fro.
Good morning, Towzer! Come, let’s run,
Jump, shout, and laugh and sing
Good morning to you, every one!
Good morning, everything!
—Eleanor Farjeon
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Good Play
We built a ship upon the stairs,
All made of the back-bedroom chairs,
And filled it full of sofa pillows
To go a-sailing on the billows.
We took a saw and several nails,
And water in the nursery pails;
And Tom said, “Let us also take
An apple and a slice of cake”;—
Which was enough for Tom and me
To go a-sailing on, till tea.
We sailed along for days
and days, And had the very best of plays;
But Tom fell out and hurt his knee,
So there was no one left but me.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Habits of the Hippopotamus
The hippopotamus is strong
And huge of head and broad of bustle;
The limbs on which he rolls along
Are big with hippopotomuscle.
He does not greatly care for sweets
Like ice cream, apple pie, or custard,
But takes to flavor what he eats
A little hippopotomustard.
The hippopotamus is true
To all his principles, and just;
He always tries his best to do
The things one hippopotomust.
He never rides in trucks or trams,
In taxicabs or omnibuses,
And so keeps out of traffic jams
And other hippopotomusses.
—Arthur Guiterman
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Halfway Down
Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn’t any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I’m not at the bottom
I’m not at the top
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.
Halfway up the stairs
Isn’t up,
And isn’t down.
It isn’t in the nursery,
It isn’tin the town.
And all sorts of funny
thoughts
Run round my head:
“It isn’t really
Anywhere!
It’s somewhere else
Instead!”
—A. A. Milne
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Have Good Intentions
We all have good intentions
As we begin a day,
We’re thankful for God’s teachings
And we want to walk His way
But in our daily struggles,
We sometimes fail to show
The virtues He has taught us
To those we love and know
So, as you start a busy day,
Be sure to schedule, too,
Some time for caring, sharing,
And a thoughtful deed to do…
And all the love that you bestow,
The kindness that you give,
Will return a hundredfold
To bless the days you live.
—Alice Joyce Davidson
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
How to Write a Letter
Maria intended a letter to write,
But could not begin as she thought to indite.
So she went to her mother with pencil and slate,
Containing “Dear Sister,” and also a date.
“With nothing to say, my dear girl, do not think
Of wasting your time over paper and ink.
But certainly this is an excellent way,
To try with your slate to find something to say.
“I will give you a rule,” said her mother, “my dear,
Just think for a moment your sister is here.
And what would you tell her? Consider, and then
Though silent your tongue, you can speak with your pen.”
—Elizabeth Turner
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
I Want to Know
I want to know why when I’m late
For school, they get into a state,
But if invited out to tea
I mustn’t ever early be.
Why, if I’m eating nice and slow,
It’s “Slow-poke, hurry up, you know!”
But if I’m eating nice and quick
It’s “Gobble-gobble, you’ll be sick!”
Why, when I’m walking in the street
My clothes must always be complete,
While at the seaside I can call
It right with nothing on at all.
Why I must always go to bed
When other people don’t instead,
And why I have to say good-night
Always before I’m ready, quite.
—John Drinkwater
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
I Wish I Were a Little Star
Last night I dreamed that I had wings
And flew up in the sky,
I couldn’t see our house at all
For I was up too high.
I must have gone a hundred miles,
I know I traveled far,
I didn’t know just where I was
Until I touched a star!
And then I said, “Little star,
Please tell me where I am.”
The little star said, “Don’t you know?
You are in a traffic jam.
All little stars pass this way
When they go to their places,
There are hundreds of tiny stars
With bright and shining faces.”
Marching, marching, marching
Glad to light the darkened sky,
I wish I were a little star
So I could live up high!
—Edna Hamilton
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking
If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain,
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
—Emily Dickinson
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
In the Morning
I met God in the morning,
When my day was at its best
And His presence came like sunrise
Like a glory in my breast.
All day long the Presence lingered.
All day long He stayed with me.
And we sailed with perfect calmness
O’re a very troubled sea.
Other ships were blown and battered
Other ships were sore distressed.
But the winds that seemed to drive them
Brought to us a peace and rest.
Then I thought of other mornings
With a keen remorse of mind,
When I, too, had loosed the moorings
With the Presence left behind.
So I think I know the secret
Learned from many a troubled way.
You must seek God in the morning
If you want Him through the day.
—Ralph Cushman
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Jabbering in School
Was that me jabbering?
I expect it was.
It’s no use complaining
Why and because;
When you’ve been jabbering
Teacher doesn’t try
To take any interest
In because and why.
I might have seen a heron
Flying in the sun,
Or been telling Jeanie
Her pinny was undone,
I might have been noticing
Something dark and dire,
Like lions in the playground,
Or the curtains on fire,
I might have had a stomachache—
Oh, there might have been
Lots of reasons why I
Was jabbering with Jean.
But it’s no use explaining
Why and because.
Was that me jabbering?
I expect it was.
—Eleanor Farjeon
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Jolly Woodchuck
The woodchuck’s very very fat
But doesn’t care a pin for that.
When nights are long and the snow is deep.
Down in his hole he lies asleep.
Under the earth is a warm little room
The drowsy woodchuck calls his home.
Rolls of fat and fur surround him,
With all his children curled around him,
Snout to snout and tail to tail.
He never awakes in the wildest gale;
When icicles snap and the north wind blows
He snores in his sleep and rubs his nose.
—Marion Edey and Dorothy Grider
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Kitten
He’s nothing much but fur
And two round eyes of blue,
He has a giant purr
And a midget mew.
He darts and pats the air,
He starts and cocks his ear,
When there is nothing there
For him to see and hear.
He runs around in rings,
But why we cannot tell;
With sideways leaps he springs
At things invisible.
Then halfway through a leap
His startled eyeballs close,
And he drops off to sleep
With one paw on his nose.
—Eleanor Farjeon
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Kitten and the Falling Leaves
See the kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall!
Withered leaves, one, two, and three,
From the lofty elder-tree.
Through the calm and frosty air
Of this morning bright and fair,
Eddying round and round they sink
Softly, slowly. One might think,
From the motions that are made,
Every little leaf conveyed
Some small fairy, hither tending,
To this lower world descending.
—But the kitten, how she starts!
Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!
First at one, and then its fellow.
Just as light, and just as yellow.
There are many now—now—one—
Now they stop and there are none,
What intentness of desire
In her upturned eye of fire!
With a tiger leap halfway,
Now she meets the coming prey.
Lets it go at last, and then
Has it in her power again.
—William Wordsworth
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Little Tiger Cat
Little Tiger Cat with the spotted face,
Do you think you’ve found a baby-jungle place?
Going through the grass, stealthily and slow,
Are you waiting to jump out and scare the folks you know?
And send them running to the house as fast as they can go?
Little Tiger Cat, it’s no use at all,
No matter what you think yourself, you’re rather tame and small,
And with all your hiding and your stern contemplation,
You cannot scare a single one of high or low station,
And so, there’s no use trying to be like your wild relation.
—Annette Wynne
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Lost Doll
I once had a sweet little doll, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world;
Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,
And her hair was so charmingly curled;
But I lost my poor little doll, dears,
As I played on the heath one day,
And I cried for her more than a week, dears,
But I never could find where she lay.
I found my poor little doll, dears,
As I played on the heath one day;
Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,
And her paint is all washed away,
And her arm trodden off by the cows, dears,
And her hair not the least bit curled;
Yet for old time’s sake, she is still, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world.
—Charles Kinglsey
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Make Me a Picture of the Sun
Make me a picture of the sun—
So I can hang it in my room
And make believe I’m getting warm
When others call it “day”!
Draw me a robin on a stem—
So I am hearing him, I’ll dream,
And when the orchards stop their tune,
Put my pretense away.
Say if it’s really warm at noon,
Whether it’s buttercups that “skim,”
Or butterflies that “bloom”?
Then skip the frost upon the lea,
And skip the russet on the tree,
Let’s pray those never come!
—Emily Dickinson
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Marching Song
Bring the comb and play upon it!
Marching, here we come!
Willie cocks his highland bonnet,
Johnnie beats the drum.
Mary Jane commands the party,
Peter leads the rear;
Feet in time, alert and hearty,
Each a Grenadier!
All in the most martial manner
Marching double–quick;
While the napkin like the banner
Waves upon the stick!
Here’s enough of fame and pillage,
Great commander Jane!
Now that we’ve been round the village,
Let’s go home again.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Missing
Has anybody seen my mouse?
I opened his box for half a minute,
Just to make sure he was really in it,
And while I was looking, he jumped outside!
I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried.
I think he’s somewhere about the house.
Has anyone seen my mouse?
Uncle John have you seen my mouse?
Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,
He came from the country, he wasn’t a town one,
So he’ll feel lonely in a London street;
Why, what could he possibly find to eat?
He must be somewhere. I’ll ask Aunt Rose:
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
Oh, somewhere about—
He’s just got out ...
Hasn’t anybody seen my mouse?
—A.A. Milne
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43
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Monkeys and the Crocodile
Five little monkeys
Swinging from a tree;
Teasing Uncle Crocodile,
Merry as can be.
Swinging high, swinging low,
Swinging left and right,
“Dear Uncle Crocodile,
Come and take a bite!”
Five little monkeys
Swinging in the air;
Heads up, tails up,
Little do they care.
Swinging up, swinging down,
Swinging far and near:
“Poor Uncle Crocodile,
Aren’t you hungry, dear?”
Four little monkeys
Sitting in the tree;
Heads down, tails down,
Dreary as can be.
Weeping loud, weeping low
Crying to each other:
“Wicked Uncle Crocodile,
To gobble up our brother!”
—Laura E. Richards
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Mountain and the Squirrel
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel
And the former called the latter “Little prig”
But replied,
“You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together
To make up a year,
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I’m not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half as spry.
I’ll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track.
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put,
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Mouse
I heard a mouse
Bitterly complaining
In a crack of moonlight
Aslant on the floor—
“Little I ask
And that little is not granted.
There are few crumbs
In this world anymore.
The breadbox is tin
And I cannot get in.
The jam’s in a jar
My teeth cannot mar.
The cheese sits by itself
On the pantry shelf—
All night I run
Searching and seeking,
All night I run
About on the floor,
Moonlight is there
And a bare place for dancing,
But no little feast
Is spread anymore.”
—Elizabeth Coatsworth
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Mrs. Brown
As soon as I’m in bed at night
And snugly settled down,
The little girl I am by day
Goes very suddenly away,
And then I’m Mrs. Brown.
I have a family of six,
And all of them have names,
The girls are Joyce and Nancy Maud,
The boys are Marmaduke and Claude
And Percival and James.
We have a house with twenty rooms
A mile away from town;
I think it’s good for girls and boys
To be allowed to make a noise
And so does Mrs. Brown.
We do the most exciting things,
Enough to make you creep;
And on and on and on we go—
I sometimes wonder if I know
When I have gone to sleep.
—Rose Fyleman
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
My Books and I
My books and I the whole day through
Find many, many things to do;
We travel anywhere we please.
On dragonflies and bumblebees.
We visit pirates in their den;
We sail the seas and back again.
With Indians, lying all around,
We spread our blankets on the ground.
At night, the fairies on the green
Ask me to be their Fairy Queen
The most exciting time of day
Is when my books and I just play.
—Florence Piper Tuttle
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
My Cat, Mrs. Lick-A-Chin
Some of the cats I know about
Spend a little time in and a lot of time out.
Or a lot of time out and a little time in.
But my cat, Mrs. Lick-a-chin,
Never knows where she wants to be.
If I let her in, she looks at me
And begins to sing that she wants to go out.
So I open the door, and she looks about
And begins to sing, “Please let me in!”
Poor silly Mrs. Lick-a-chin!
The thing about cats, as you may find,
Is that no one knows what they have in mind.
And I’ll tell you something about that:
No one knows it less than my cat.
—John Ciardi
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
My Policeman
He is always standing there
At the comer of the square;
He is very big and fine
And his silver buttons shine.
All the carts and taxis do
Everything he tells them to,
And the little errand boys
When they pass him make no noise.
Though I seem so very small
I am not afraid at all;
He and I are friends, you see,
And he always smiles at me.
Once I wasn’t very good
Rather near to where he stood,
But he never said a word
Though I’m sure he must have heard.
Nurse has a policeman too
(Hers has brown eyes, mine has blue.)
Hers is sometimes on a horse,
I like mine best of course.
—Rose Fyleman
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
My Visitors
I built a little house,
With a red front door;
Someone came knocking,
One, two, three, four!
I hurried up to open it,
And what did I see?
Two squirrels and a dormouse
Had come to visit me!
Their eyes were very wistftil,
As they peered inside my house;
I stood aside to let them in,
The squirrels and the dormouse;
They curled up on the hearth rug
To warm their little feet;
I gave them buns and banbury cakes
And apple tarts to eat.
And when I rose next morning,
Before the early dawn,
They’d gone, but on my doorstep
Were hazelnuts and corn.
—Ethel H. Chesterfield
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The North Wind Doth Blow
The north wind doth blow
And we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?
He’ll sit in a barn,
And keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing, poor thing!
The north wind doth blow
And we shall have snow,
And what will the dormouse do then, poor thing?
Roll’d up like a ball,
In his nest snug and small,
He’ll sleep till warm weather comes in, poor thing!
The north wind doth blow
And we shall have snow,
And what will the children do then, poor things?
When lessons are done,
They must skip, jump, and run
Until they have made themselves warm, poor things!
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Old Glory
I love each shining star because
It tells a wondrous story;
I love each stripe in our dear flag,
The flag we call Old Glory!
I love its field of azure blue,
Each star that twinkles there;
I love its red and snowy white
To me it all is fair.
I love to see it float on high
Above each tower and steeple;
I love to doff my hat to it
The flag of a free people.
I love Old Glory more each day,
The banner of our nation;
America, our native land
A land of God’s creation!
—Alonzo Newton Benn
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Opossum
Have you ever in your life seen a
Possum play possum?
Have you ever in your life seen a
Possum play dead?
When a Possum is trapped and can’t get away
He turns up his toes and lays down his head,
Bats both his eyes and rolls over dead.
But then when you leave him and run off to play,
The Possum that really was just playing possum
Gets up in a flash and scurries away.
—William Jay Smith
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Ornithology
What’s ornithology? Pray can you tell?
It’s hard to pronounce and it’s harder to spell—
Yet that’s what you’re learning whenever you care
To study the Birds of the Earth, Sea, and Air.
There’s a long word
To stand for a Bird!
For a Lark or a Sparrow its length is absurd!
Eagles and Ostriches need no apology
If you should label them as ornithology!
But how can it fit
The tiny Tom-Tit?
The Finch.
Wants a word that’s no more than an inch!
Yet all the Birds of the East and the West,
Whatever they be, and wherever they nest—
The Vulture—the Hen—
The Flamingo—the Wren—
The Dove—the Canary—
The queer Cassowary
The Thrush on the bough, and the Duck in the pool—
They are all ornithology when you’re in School!
—Eleanor Farjeon
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Our Snowman
Our fat snow man
Was a comical sight,
He had two hands,
But he couldn’t write.
He had a wide grin,
But he couldn’t talk.
He had a tall cane,
But he couldn’t walk.
He had four buttons,
But he had no coat.
We tied a big bow
Around his throat.
The sun looked down
On our fat snow man.
Said mother, “I fear
He’ll get a bad tan.”
By noon the poor fellow
Had tears in his eyes.
By four he was down
To Tom Thumb size.
By the time the moon shone
On the fast melting snow,
He was down to nothing
But his buttons and bow.
—Lucille Chiddix
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Portrait by a Neighbor
Before she has her floor swept
Or her dishes done,
Any day you’ll find her
A-sunning in the sun!
It’s long after midnight
Her key’s in the lock,
And you never see her chimney smoke
Till past ten o’clock!
She digs in her garden
With a shovel and a spoon,
She weeds her lazy lettuce
By the light of the moon.
She walks up the walk
Like a woman in a dream,
She forgets she borrowed butter
And pays you back cream!
Her lawn looks like a meadow,
And if she mows the place
She leaves the clover standing
And the Queen Anne’s lace!
—Edna St. Vincent Milla
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Questions at Night
Why
Is the sky?
What starts the thunder overhead?
Who makes the crashing noise?
Are the angels falling out of bed?
Are they breaking all their toys?
Why does the sun go down so soon?
Why do the night-clouds crawl
Hungrily up to the new-laid moon
And swallow it, shell and all?
If there’s a Bear among the stars
As all the people say,
Won’t he jump over those Pasture-bars
And drink up the Milky Way?
Does every star that happens to fall
Turn into a fire-fly?
Can’t it ever get back to heaven at all?
And why
Is the sky?
—Louis Untermeyer
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Rabbits
My two white rabbits
Chase each other
With humping, bumping backs,
They go hopping, hopping,
And their long ears
Go flopping, flopping.
And they
Make faces
With their noses
Up and down.
Today
I went inside their fence
To play rabbit with them.
And in one comer
Under a loose bush
I saw something shivering the leaves.
And I pushed
And I looked.
And I found—
There in a hole
In the ground—
Three baby rabbits
Hidden away.
And they
Made faces
With their noses
Up and down.
—Dorothy Baruch
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Rain in Summer
How beautiful is the rain!
After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain!
How it clatters along the roofs,
Like the tramp of hoofs!
How it gushes and struggles out
From the throat of the overflowing spout!
Across the window pane
It pours and pours;
And swift and wide,
With a muddy tide,
Like a river down the gutter roars
The rain, the welcome rain!
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Rain in the Night
Raining, raining,
All night long;
Sometimes loud, sometimes soft,
Just like a song.
There’ll be rivers in the gutters,
And lakes along the street.
It will make a lazy kitten
Wash his little dirty feet.
The roses will wear diamonds
Like kings and queens at court;
But the pansies all get muddy
Because they are so short.
I’ll sail my boat tomorrow
In wonderful new places,
But first I’ll take my watering-pot
And wash the pansies’ faces.
—Amelia Josephine Burr
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Rain Song
It is not raining rain for me,
It’s raining daffodils
In every dimpled drop I see
Wild flowers on the hills.
The clouds of gray engulf the day
And overwhelm the town;
It is not raining rain to me
It’s raining roses down.
It is not raining rain to me,
But fields of clover bloom,
Where any buccaneering bee
May find a bed and room.
A health unto the happy,
A fig for him who frets!
It is not raining rain to me,
It’s raining violets.
—Robert Loveman
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Rainbow
The rainbow arches in the sky,
But in the earth it ends;
But if you ask the reason why,
They’ll tell you: “That depends.”
It never comes without the rain,
Nor goes without the sun;
But though you try with might and main,
You’ll never catch me one.
Perhaps you’ll see it once a year,
Perhaps you’ll say: “No, twice”;
But every time it does appear,
It’s very clean and nice.
If I were God, I’d like to win
At sun-and-moon croquet:
I’d drive the rainbow-wickets in
And ask someone to play.
—David McCord
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Reason for the Pelican
The reason for the pelican
Is difficult to see:
His beak is clearly larger
Than there’s any need to be.
It’s not to bail a boat with—
He doesn’t own a boat.
Yet everywhere he takes himself
He has that beak to tote.
It’s not to keep his wife in—
His wife had got one, too.
It’s not a scoop for eating soup.
It’s not an extra shoe.
It isn’t quite for anything.
And yet you realize
It’s really quite a splendid beak
In quite a splendid size.
—John Ciardi
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Seal
See how he dives
From the rocks with a zoom!
See how he darts
Through his watery room
Past crabs and eels
And green seaweed,
Past fluffs of sandy
Minnow feed!
See how he swims
With a swerve and a twist,
A flip of the flipper,
A flick of the wrist!
Quicksilver quick,
Softer than spray,
Down he plunges
And sweeps away;
Before you can think,
Before you can utter
Words like “Dill pickle”
Or “Apple butter,”
Back up he swims
Past sting-ray and shark,
Out with a zoom,
A whoop, a bark;
Before you can say
Whatever you wish,
He plops at your side
With a mouthful of fish!
—William Jay Smith
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Shepherd Boy Sings
He that is down needs fear no fall,
He that is low, no pride;
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.
I am content with what I have,
Little be it or much:
And, Lord, contentment still I crave,
Because Thou savest such.
Fullness to such a burden is
That go on pilgrimage:
Here little, and hereafter bliss,
Is best from age to age.
—John Bunyan
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Slow but Sure
A turtle and his forest friends
A–walking went one day;
He poked along serenely
In his own creepy way.
His friends were going the same way
But passed him on the run.
They failed to see the beauty
And missed a lot of fun.
As Mr. Turtle walked along
He gathered news to tell.
The others would not gather much,
And this he knew quite well.
When finally his trip was done
And he had joined the rest,
The stories Mr. Turtle told
Were very much the best.
—Lillian Beck
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
So Long as There Is Weather
Whether it’s cold
or
whether it’s hot,
I’d rather
have weather
whether or not
it’s just what I’d choose
Summer
or
Spring
or
Winter
or
Fall—
any
weather
is
better
than
no weather
at all.
I really like weather.
I never feel
whiney
when weather is
rainy.
And when it’s
sunshiny
I don’t feel
complainy.
Weather sends me.
So—
Rain?
Let it SPLASH!
Thunder?
CRRRASH!
Hail?
Clitter-clatter!
What does it
matter—
so long as there’s weather!
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Tamara Kitt
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Things I Do
I’m very good at climbing
I nearly climbed a tree
But just as I was almost up
I sort of skinned my knee.
I’m wonderful at walking
I almost walked a mile
But when I got around the block
I rested for a while.
I’m excellent at swimming
Though I’m not very old
I almost swam the ocean once
But the water was too cold.
But what I’m really best at
Is skipping down the hall.
I’m very good at skipping.
I’m wonderful at skipping.
I’m marvelous at skipping,
That is unless I fall.
—Karla Kuskin
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Timothy Boon
Timothy Boon
Bought a balloon
Blue as the sky,
Round as the moon.
“Now I will try
To make it fly
Up to the moon,
Higher than high!”
Timothy said,
Nodding his head.
Timothy Boon
Sent his balloon
Up through the skies,
Up to the moon.
But a strong breeze
Stirred in the trees
Rocked the bright moon,
Tossed the great seas,
And, with its mirth,
Shook the whole earth.
Timothy Boon,
And his balloon,
Caught by the breeze
Flew to the moon;
Up past the trees,
Over the seas,
Up to the moon—
Swift as you please!—
And, oh, I forget,
They have not come down yet!
—Ivy 0. Eastwick
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Tiptoe
Yesterday I skipped all day,
The day before I ran,
Today I’m going to tiptoe
Everywhere I can.
I’ll tiptoe down the stairway.
I’ll tiptoe through the door.
I’ll tiptoe to the living room
And give an awful roar
And my father, who is reading,
Will jump up from his chair
And mumble something silly like
“I don’t see you there.”
I’ll tiptoe to my mother
And give a little cough
And when she spins to see me
Why, I’ll softly tiptoe off.
I’ll tiptoe through the meadows,
Over hills and yellow sands
And when my toes get tired
Then I’ll tiptoe on my hands.
—Karla Kuskin
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
To God, with Love
Dear God,
This is the first time ever that
I’ve written You a letter ... but I just had
to thank You, now that everything is better.
I came to You a while back so troubled
and distressed, I didn’t know what course to
take, what action would be best ... I told You
all my troubles, and I felt Your presence near …
and as I talked the clouds broke up and seemed
to disappear.
So, thank You, God for listening, for
keeping me from harm, for wiping tears and
holding me within Your loving arms.
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
To Meet Mr. Lincoln
If I lived at the time
That Mr. Lincoln did,
And I met Mr. Lincoln
With his stovepipe lid
And his coalblack cape
And his thundercloud beard,
And worn and sad-eyed
He appeared:
“Don’t worry, Mr. Lincoln,”
I’d reach up and pat his hand,
“We’ve got a fine President
For this land;
And the Union will be saved,
And the slaves will go free;
And you will live forever
In our nation’s memory.”
—Eve Merriam
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Tomorrow
Tomorrow when the wind is high
I’ll build a kite to ride the sky,
Tomorrow, when the wind is high.
Tomorrow when the waters gleam
I’ll build a boat to sail the stream,
Tomorrow, when the waters gleam.
Tomorrow when the roads run far
Across the hill, I’ll build a car.
I’ll build a car with shining wheels
To pass the other automobiles,
Tomorrow, when the roads run far.
—Rowena B. Bennett
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Verbs
Nouns are the things I see and touch,
My Cake, my Mother, and my Ball;
I like some nouns very much,
Though some I do not like at all.
Verbs are the things I do, and make,
And feel, in one way or another.
Thanks to Verbs, I eat my Cake,
And throw my Ball, and hug my Mother.
Yet Verbs, which make me laugh and play,
Can also make me cry and fall,
And tease my Mother every day,
And spoil my Cake, and lose my Ball!
—Eleanor Farjeon
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Very Lovely
Wouldn’t it be lovely if the rain came down
Till water was quite high over all the town?
If the cabs and buses all were set afloat,
And we had to go to school in a little boat?
Wouldn’t it be lovely if it still should pour
And we all went up to live on the second floor?
If we saw the butcher sailing up the hill,
And we took the letters in at the window silI?
It’s been raining, raining, all the afternoon;
All these things might happen really very soon.
If we woke tomorrow and found they had begun,
Wouldn’t it be glorious? Wouldn’t it be fun?
—Rose Fyleman
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Weather
Dot a dotdot ...dot a dotdot
Spotting the windowpane.
Spack a spack speck ...flick a flack fleck
Freckling the windowpane.
A spatter a scatter ...a wetcat aclatter
A splatter a rumble outside.
Umbrella umbrella umbrella umbrella
Bumbershoot barrel of rain.
Slosh a galosh ...slosh a galosh
Slither and slather a glide
A puddle a jump a puddle a jump
A puddle a jump puddle splosh
A juddle a pump aluddle a dump a
Puddmuddle jump in and slide!
—Eve Merriam
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Weathers
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside the “Traveller’s Rest,”
And maids come forth sprig-muslin dressed.
And citizens dream of the South and West.
And so do I.
This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply.
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate-bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.
—Thomas Hardy
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
What in the World?
What in the world
goes whiskery friskery
meowling and prowling
napping and lapping
at silky milk?
Psst,
What is it?
What in the world
goes leaping and beeping
onto a lily pad onto a log
onto a tree stump or down to the
bog?
Splash, blurp,
Kerchurp!
What in the world
goes gnawing and pawing
scratching and latching
sniffing and squiff-ing
nibbling for tidbits of left-over
cheese?
Please?
What in the world
jumps with a hop and a bump
and a tail that can thump
has pinky pointy ears and a twitchy
nose
looking for anything crunchy that
grows?
A carroty lettucey cabbagey luncheon
To munch on?
What in the world
climbs chattering pattering swinging from trees
like a flying trapeze
with a tail that can curl
like the rope cowboys twirl?
Wahoo!
Here’s a banana for you!
What in the world
goes stalking and balking
running and sunning
thumping and dumping
lugging and hugging
swinging and singing
wriggling and giggling
sliding and hiding
throwing and knowing and
growing and growing
much too big for
last year’s clothes?
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Eve Merriam
Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
What Robin Told
How do robins build their nests?
Robin Redbreast told me—
First a wisp of yellow hay
In a pretty round they lay;
Then some shreds of down floss,
Feathers, too, and bits of moss,
Woven with a sweet, sweet song,
This way, that way, and across;
That’s what Robin told me.
Where do robins hide their nests?
Robin Redbreast told me—
Up among the leaves so deep,
Where the sunbeams rarely creep,
Long before the winds are cold,
Long before the leaves are gold,
Bright-eyed stars will peep and see
Baby robins—one, two, three;
That’s what Robin told me.
—George Cooper
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Will There Really Be a Morning
Will there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
Has it feet like water lilies?
Has it feathers like a bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?
Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!
Oh, some wise man from the skies!
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies!
—Emily Dickinson
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Student Activities 2nd Grade Poetry Handbook
Winter Is Coming
The busy little squirrels
Are hiding nuts away,
So they’ll have food to eat
Upon a winter’s day.
The robins and the bluebirds,
And other songbirds too,
Have started for the Southland.
I think they’re wise, don’t you?
The little frogs and turtles
Are in their soft mud beds.
When Old Man Winter comes along
They’ll cover up their heads.
The big brown bear has eaten
As much as he can hold.
Now he’ll curl up inside a cave
And sleep when days are cold.
The furry little rabbit
Wears a coat as white as snow.
He changes for the winter,
Just like you and me, you know.
—Velda Blumhagen
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82
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
3RD GRADE POETRY
2
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
Arithmetic 32
The Pancake Collector 60
Abraham Lincoln 4
The Gift of Friendship 33
Puppy and I 61
Afternoon with Grandmother 5
F. Scott Fitzgerald to His Daughter 34
A Sea-Song from the Shore 62
America Was Schoolmasters 6
The Good Little Girl 35
The Secret Cavern 63
The American Flag 7
Grace at Evening 36
Sermons We See 64
Animal Crackers 8
Hide and Seek 37
Spring 65
Ask Daddy, He Won’t Know 9
Hiding 38
The Story of the Baby Squirrel 66
At the Zoo 10
I Am an American 39
The Story of Flying Robert 67
Be Kind 11
If You Were 40
Tell Him So 68
Benjamin Franklin 12
An Introduction to Dogs 41
This and That 69
The Bluebird 13
It Is Raining 42
Three Little Kittens 70
The Boy We Want 14
I Meant to Do My Work Today 43
Tiger-Cat Tim 71
Busy 15
Jonathan Bing 44
Trees 72
The Boy Who Never Told a Lie 16
Kindness to Animals 45
Trees 73
A Boy’s Mother 17
The Lamb 46
Two Little Maids 74
A Boy Wonders 18
The Lamplighter 47
The Unwinged Ones 75
The Chameleon 19
The Land of Storybooks 48
Us Two 76
Circus 20
The Library 49
Very Early 77
A Circus Garland 21
Lincoln 50
Vespers 78
Columbus 22
Lincoln’s Story 51
The Wayfaring Song 79
Come Out with Me 23
I Looked in the Mirror 52
What Have We Done Today? 80
The Creation 24
The Lost Shoe 53
What Is a Teacher 81
The Crocodile 25
A Mortifying Mistake 54
The Wind 82
Daniel Boone 26
Mummy Slept Late and Daddy Fixed
Breakfast 55
Which Loved Best 83
The Duck 27
The Egg 28
Every Time I Climb a Tree 29
The Friendly Beasts 30
Foreign Lands 31
My Dog 56
My Shadow 57
My Speech 58
The Owl and the Pussycat 59
Please note: These are not required poems, but examples of
acceptable material. Comparable pieces may be chosen from
other sources if approved by school coordinator.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
Work 84
The World’s Bible 85
A Wrecker or a Builder 86
Written in March 87
Yesterday in Oxford Street 88
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
3
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Abraham Lincoln
Remember he was poor and country-bred;
His face was lined; he walked with awkward gait.
Smart people laughed at him sometimes and said,
“How can so very plain a man be great?”
Remember he was humble, used to toil.
Strong arms he had to build a shack, a fence,
Long legs to tramp the woods, to plow the soil,
A head chuck full of backwoods common sense.
Remember all he ever had he earned,
He walked in time through stately White House doors;
But all he knew of men and life he learned
In little backwoods cabins, country stores.
Remember that his eyes could light with fun;
That wisdom, courage, set his name apart;
But when the rest is duly said and done,
Remember that men loved him for his heart.
—Mildred Meigs
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
4
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Afternoon with Grandmother
I always shout when Grandma comes,
But Mother says, “Now please be still
And good and do what Grandma wants.”
And I say, “Yes, I will.”
So off we go in Grandma’s car.
“There’s a brand new movie quite near by,”
She says, “that I’d rather like to see.”
And I say, “So would I.”
The show has horses and chases and battles;
We gasp and hold hands the whole way through.
She smiles and says, “I liked that lots.”
And I say, “I did, too.”
“It’s made me hungry, though,” she says,
I’d like a malt and tarts with jam.
By any chance are you hungry, too?”
And I say, “Yes, I am.”
Later at home my Mother says,
“I hope you were careful to do as bid.
Did you and Grandma have a good time?”
And I say, “YES, WE DID!!!”
—Barbara A. Huff
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
5
6
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
America Was Schoolmasters
America was forests,
America was grain,
Wheat from dawn to sunset,
And rainbows trailing rain.
They taught the girls such manners
As stiffened them for life,
But made many a fine speller,
Good mother and good wife.
America was beavers,
Buffalo in seas,
Cornsilk and the johnnycake,
Songs of scythes and bees.
They took small wiry children,
Wild as panther-cats,
And turned them into reasoning,
Sunny Democrats.
America was brown men
With eyes full of the sun,
But America was schoolmasters,
Tall one by lonely one.
They caught a nation eager,
They caught a nation young,
They taught the nation fairness,
Thrift, and the golden tongue.
They heaved oak, carried water,
Their hands were knuckleboned.
They piled on loads of syntax,
Till the small boys groaned.
They started at the bottom
And built up strong and sweet,
They shaped our minds and morals,
With switches on the seat!
—Robert P. Tristram Coffin
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The American Flag
There’s a flag that floats above us,
Wrought in red and white and blue—
A spangled flag of stars and stripes
Protecting me and you.
Sacrifices helped to make it
As men fought the long months through,
Nights of marching—days of fighting—
For the red and white and blue.
There is beauty in that emblem,
There is courage in it, too;
There is loyalty—there’s valor—
In the red and white and blue.
In that flag which floats, unconquered
Over land and sea,
There’s equality and freedom—
There is true democracy.
There is glory in that emblem,
Wrought in red and white and blue.
It’s the stars and stripes forever
Guarding me and guarding you!
—Anonymous
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
7
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Animal Crackers
Animal crackers and cocoa to drink,
THAT is the finest of suppers, I think:
When I’m grown up and can have what I please
I think I shall always insist upon these.
What do you choose when you’re offered a treat?
When Mother says, “What would you like best to eat?”
Is it waffles and syrup or cinnamon toast?
It’s cocoa and animals that I love most!
The kitchen’s the cosiest place that I know:
The kettle is singing, the stove is aglow,
And there in the twilight, how jolly to see
The cocoa and animals waiting for me.
Daddy and Mother dine later in state
With Mary to cook for them, Susan to wait:
But they don’t have nearly as much fun as I
Who eat in the kitchen with nurse standing by;
And Daddy once said, he would like to be me
Having cocoa and animals once more for tea!
—Christopher Morley
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
8
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
9
Ask Daddy, He Won’t Know
Now that they’ve abolished chrome work
I’d like to call their attention to home work.
Here it is only three decades since my scholarship was famous,
And I’m an ignoramus.
I cannot think which goes sideways and which goes up and down, a parallel or a meridian,
Nor do I know the name of him who first translated the Bible into Indian,
I see him only as an enterprising colonial Gideon.
I have difficulty with dates,
To say nothing of the annual rainfall of the Southern Central States.
Naturally the correct answers are just back of the tip of my tongue,
But try to explain that to your young.
I am overwhelmed by their erudite banter,
I am in no condition to differentiate between Tamerland and Tam O’Shanter.
I reel, I sway, I am utterly exhausted;
Should you ask me when Chicago was founded I could only reply I didn’t even know it
was losted.
—Ogden Nash
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
At the Zoo
There are lions and roaring tigers, and enormous camels and things,
There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons, and a great big bear with wings,
There’s a sort of tiny potamus, and tiny nosserus too—
But I gave buns to the elephant when I went down to the Zoo!
There are badgers and bidgers and bodgers, and a Super-in-tendent’s House,
There are masses of goats, and a Polar, and different kinds of mouse,
And I think there’s a sort of a something which is called a wallaboo—
But I gave buns to the elephant when I went down to the Zoo!
If you try to talk to the bison, he never quite understands;
You can’t shake hands with a mongo—he doesn’t like shaking hands.
And lions and roaring tigers hate saying, “How do you do?”—
But I give buns to the elephant when I go down to the Zoo!
—A. A. Milne
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Be Kind
Just a little bit of kindness
Can go a long, long way,
Just a little bit of tenderness
Can brighten up a day.
Just a bit of praise where it’s deserved
Can bring a happy glow,
Just a hand held out can give some hope
To someone feeling low.
A forgiving word, a handshake,
A pat upon the head,
Can take away a heavy heart
And bring a smile instead.
Just a little bit of kindness
Can go a long, long way
In reflecting the benevolence
God shows us every day!
—Alice Joyce Davidson
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Benjamin Franklin
Ben Franklin munched a loaf of bread
while walking down the street
And all the Philadelphia girls tee-heed
to see him eat,
A country boy come up to town with eyes
as big as saucers
At the ladies in their furbelows, the
gempmum on their horses.
Ben Franklin wrote an almanac, a smile
upon his lip,
It told you when to plant your corn and
how to cure the pip,
But he salted it and seasoned it with proverbs
sly and sage,
And people read “Poor Richard” till Poor
Richard was the rage.
Ben Franklin made a pretty kite and flew
it in the air
To call upon a thunderstorm that happened
to be there,
And all our humming dynamos and
our electric light
Go back to what Ben Franklin found the day
he flew his kite.
—Rosemary and Stephen Vincent Ben’et
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12
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Bluebird
I know the song that the bluebird is singing,
Out in the apple tree where he is swinging.
Brave little fellow! the skies may look dreary—
Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery.
Hark! how the music leaps out from his throat!
Hark! was there ever so merry a note?
Listen awhile and you’ll hear what he’s saying,
Up in the apple tree swinging and swaying.
“Dear little blossoms down under the snow,
You must be weary of winter, I know;
Hark, while I sing you a message of cheer
Summer is coming and springtime is here!”
“Little white snowdrops, I pray you arise;
Bright yellow,crocus, come, open your eyes;
Sweet little violets, hid from the cold,
Put on your mantles of purple and gold.
Daffodils, daffodils! say, do you hear?
Summer is coming and springtime is here!”
—Emily Huntington Miller
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Boy We Want
A boy that is truthful and honest
And faithful and willing to work;
But we have not a place that we care to disgrace
With a boy that is ready to shirk.
Wanted—a boy you can tie to,
A boy that is trusty and true,
A boy that is good to old people,
And kind to the little ones too.
A boy that is nice to the home folks,
And pleasant to sister and brother,
A boy who will try when things go awry
To be helpful to father and mother.
These are the boys we depend on—
Our hope for the future, and then
Grave problems of state and the world’s work await
Such boys when they grow to be men.
—From The Book of Virtues
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Busy
I think I am a Muffin Man. I haven’t got a bell,
I haven’t got the muffin things that muffin
people sell.
Perhaps I am a Postman. No, I think I am a
Tram.
I think I am a Ticket Man who’s selling
tickets—please,
I think I am a Doctor who is visiting a Sneeze;
Perhaps I’m just a Nanny who is walking with
a pram
I’m feeling rather funny and I don’t know what I’m feeling rather funny and I don’t know what
I am
I am
BUT
BUT
Round about
And round about
And round about I go—
All round the table,
The table in the nursery—
Round about
And round about
And round about I go;
Round about
And round about
And round about I go:
All around the table,
The table in the nursery—
Round about
And round about
And round about I go:
I think I am a Traveler escaping from a Bear;
I think I am a Puppy, so I’m hanging out my
tongue;
I think I am an Elephant,
Behind another Elephant
Behind another Elephant who isn’t really
there …
SO
Round about
And round about
And round about and round about
And round about
And round about I go.
I think I am a Camel who
Is looking for a Camel who
Is looking for a Camel who is looking for its
Young ...
SO
And round about
And round about and round about
And round about
And round about I go.
—A. A. Milne
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Boy Who Never Told a Lie
Once there was a little boy,
With curly hair and pleasant eye—
A boy who always told the truth,
And never, never told a lie.
And when he trotted off to school,
The children all about would cry,
“There goes the curly-headed boy—
The boy that never tells a lie.”
And everybody loved him so,
Because he always told the truth,
That every day, as he grew up,
‘Twas said, “There goes the honest youth.”
And when the people that stood near
Would turn to ask the reason why,
The answer would be always this:
“Because he never tells a lie.”
—From The Book of Virtues
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Boy’s Mother
My mother she’s so good to me, if I was
good as I could be,
I couldn’t be as good—no sir! Can’t any
boy be good as her!
She loves me when I’m glad er sad; she
loves me when I’m good er bad;
An’, what’s a funniest thing, she says
she loves me when she punishes.
I don’t like her to punish me. That don’t
hurt, but it hurts to see
Her cryin’. Nen I cry; an’ nen we both
cry and be good again.
She loves me when she cuts an’ sews my
little cloak an’ Sund’y clothes;
An’ when my Pa comes home to tea, she
loves him most as much as me.
She laughs an’ tells him all I said, an’
grabs me up an’ pats my head;
An’ I hug her, an’ hug my Pa an’ love
him purt’nigh as much as Ma.
—James Whitcomb Riley
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Boy Wonders
Sometimes the sky seems miles away
Sometimes just o’er the hill.
Why should it always move about,
Why does it never stand quite still?
I’ve just been wond’ring.
\What makes the sun go ‘cross the sky
A-smiling down at me?
Does he sneak back when I’m asleep
And it’s so dark I cannot see?
I’ve just been wond’ring.
Why is the moon sometimes so slim
And then so big and fat?
Do you suppose he eats enough
To swell as big and round as that?
I’ve just been wond’ring.
What makes the stars keep twinkling
So happy and so bright?
Do they know something funny that
Keeps them laughing all the night?
I’ve just been wond’ring.
—Dorothy J. Shearer
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Chameleon
The chameleon changes his color;
He can look like a tree or a wall;
He is timid and shy and he hates to be seen,
So he simply sits down on the grass and grows green,
And pretends he is nothing at all.
I wish I could change my complexion
To purple or orange or red:
I wish I could look like the arm of a chair
So nobody ever would know I was there
When they wanted to put me to bed.
I wish I could be a chameleon
And look like a lily or rose;
I’d lie on the apples and peaches and pears,
But not on Aunt Margaret’s yellowy chairs—
I should have to be careful of those.
The chameleon’s life is confusing;
He is used to adventure and pain;
But if he ever sat on Aunt Maggie’s cretonne
And found what a curious color he’d gone,
I don’t think he’d do it again.
—A. P. Herbert
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Circus
The band blares,
The naphtha flares,
The sawdust smells,
Showmen ring bells,
And oh! right into the circus ring
Comes such a lovely, lovely thing,
A milk-white pony with flying tress,
And a beautiful lady,
A beautiful lady,
A beautiful lady in a pink dress!
The red-and-white clown
For joy tumbles down.
Like a pink rose
Round she goes
On her tiptoes
With the pony under—
And then, oh, wonder!
The pony his milk-white tresses droops,
And the beautiful lady,
The beautiful lady,
Flies like a bird through the paper hoops!
The red-and-white clown for joy falls dead,
Then he waggles his feet and stands on his head,
And the little boys on the two penny seats
Scream with laughter and suck their sweets.
—Eleanor Farjeon
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20
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Circus Garland
Parade
This is the day the circus comes
With blare of brass, with beating drums,
And clashing cymbals, and with roar
Of wild beasts never heard before
Within town limits. Spick and span
Will shine each gilded cage and van;
Cockades at every horse’s head
Will nod, and riders dressed in red
Or blue trot by. There will be floats
In shapes like dragons, thrones and boats,
And clowns on stilts; freaks big and small
Till leisurely and last of all
Camels and elephants will pass
Beneath our elms, along our grass.
The Performing Seal
Who is so proud
As not to feel
A secret awe
Before a seal
That keeps such sleek
And wet repose
While twirling candles
On his nose?
Gunga
With wrinkled hide and great frayed ears
Gunga, the elephant, appears.
Colored like city smoke he goes
As gingerly on blunted toes
As if he held the earth in trust
And feared to hurt the very dust.
—Rachel Field
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Columbus
In fourteen-hundred-ninety-two
Columbus sailed away
To try to reach rich India
By a much shorter way.
Columbus said, “The world is round.”
But others said, “It’s flat—
If you sail far you might fall off.”
Columbus laughed at that.
And yet he found out that his trip
Took longer than he planned,
For it was many, many weeks
Before they sighted land.
And then they weren’t in India
For when they stepped ashore
They found no silks or spices—
But they really found much more.
Yes, there Columbus stood upon
An unknown continent
Columbus found America
And quite by accident.
—Laraine Eloise Jacobson
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Come Out with Me
There’s sun on the river and sun on the hill ...
You can hear the sea if you stand quite still!
There’s eight new puppies at Roundabout Farm
And I saw an old sailor with only one arm!
But every one says, “Run along!”
(Run along, run along!)
All of them say, “Run along! I’m busy as can be.”
Every one says, “Run along,
There’s a little darling!”
If I’m a little darling, why don’t they run with me?
There’s wind on the river and wind on the hill ...
There’s dark dead water-wheel, under the mill!
I saw a fly which had just been drowned—
And I know where a rabbit goes into the ground!
But every one says, “Run along!”
(Run along, run along!)
All of them say, “Yes, dear,” and never notice me.
Every one says, “Run along,
There’s a little darling!”
If I’m a little darling, why won’t they come and see?
—A. A. Milne
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23
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Creation
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures, great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings;
The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them, high or lowly,
And order’d their estate.
The purple-headed mountain,
The river running by,
The sunset and the morning
That brightens up the sky;
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun
The ripe fruits in the garden—
He made them everyone.
The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water
We gather every day;
He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty
Who has made all things well!
—Cecil Frances Alexander
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Crocodile
A Crocodile once dropped a line
To a Fox to invite him to dine;
But the Fox wrote to say
He was dining, that day,
With a Birdfriend, and begged to decline.
She sent off at once to a Goat.
“Pray don’t disappoint me,” she wrote;
But he answered too late,
He’d forgotten the date,
Having thoughtlessly eaten her note.
The Crocodile thought him ill-bred,
And invited two Rabbits instead;
But the Rabbits replied,
They were hopelessly tied
By a previous engagement, and fled.
Then she wrote in despair to some Eels,
And begged them to “drop in” to meals;
But the Eels left their cards
With their coldest regards,
And took to what went for their heels.
Cried the Crocodile then, in disgust,
“My motives they seem to mistrust.
Their suspicions are base!
Since they don’t know their place,
I suppose if I must starve, I must!”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Oliver Herford
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Daniel Boone
Daniel Boone at twenty-one
Came with his tomahawk, knife, and gun
Home from the French and Indian War
To North Carolina and the Yadkin shore
He married his maid with a golden band,
Builded his house and cleared his land;
But the deep woods claimed their son again
And he turned his face from the homes of men.
Over the Blue Ridge, dark and lone,
The Mountains of Iron, the Hills of Stone,
Braving the Shawnee’s jealous wrath,
He made his way on the Warrior’s Path.
Alone he trod the shadowed trails;
But he was lord of a thousand vales.
As he roved Kentucky, far and near,
Hunting the buffalo, elk, and deer.
What joy to see, what joy to win
So fair a land for his kith and kin,
Of streams unstained and woods unhewn!
“Elbow room!” laughed Daniel Boone.
—Arthur Guiterman
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Duck
If I were in a fairy tale,
And it were my good luck
To have a wish, I’d choose to be
A lovely snow-white duck.
When she puts off into the pond
And leaves me on the brink,
She wags her stumpy tail at me,
And gives me a saucy wink,
Which says as plain as words can say,
I’m safe as safe can be,
Stay there, or you will drown yourself
The pond was made for me.
She goes a-sailing to and fro,
Just like a fishing boat,
And steers and paddles all herself,
And never wets her coat.
Then in the water, upside down,
I’ve often seen her stand
More neatly than the little boys
Who do it on the land.
And best of all, her children are
The ducklings bright as gold,
Who swim about the pond with her
And do as they are told.
—E. L. M. King
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Egg
Oh! how shall I get it, how shall I get it—
A nice little new-laid egg?
My grandmamma told me to run to the barn-yard,
And see if just one I could beg.
“Mooly-cow, Mooly-cow, down in the meadow,
Have you any eggs, I pray?”
The Mooly-cow stares as if I were crazy,
And solemnly stalks away.
“Oh, Doggie, Doggie, perhaps you may have it,
That nice little egg for me.”
But Doggie just wags his tail and capers,
And never an egg has he.
“Now, Dobbin, Dobbin, I’m sure you must have one,
Hid down in your manger there,”
But Dobbin lays back his ears and whinnies,
With “Come and look, if you dare!”
“Piggywig, Piggywig, grunting and squealing,
Are you crying ‘Fresh eggs for sale’?
No! Piggy, you’re very cold and unfeeling,
With that impudent quirk in your tail.”
“You wise old Gobbler, you look so knowing,
I’m sure you can find me an egg.
You stupid old thing! just say ‘Gobble-gobble.’
And balance yourself on one leg.”
Oh! how shall I get it, how shall I get it—
That little white egg so small?
I’ve asked every animal here in the barnyard,
And they won’t give me any at all.
But after I’d hunted until I was tired
I found—not one egg, but ten!
And you never could guess where they all were hidden—
Right under our old speckled hen! —Laura E. Richards
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Every Time I Climb a Tree
Every time I climb a tree
Every time I climb a tree
Every time I climb a tree
I scrape a leg
Or skin a knee
And every time I climb a tree
I find some ants
Or dodge a bee
And get the ants
All over me.
And every time I climb a tree
Where have you been?
They say to me
But don’t they know that I am free
Every time I climb a tree?
I like it best to spot a nest
That has an egg
Or maybe three.
And then I skin
The other leg
But every time I climb a tree
I see a lot of things to see
Swallows, rooftops and TV
And all the fields and farms there be
Every time I climb a tree.
Though climbing may be good for ants
It isn’t awfully good for pants
But still it’s pretty good for me
Every time I climb a tree.
—David McCord
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Friendly Beasts
Jesus our brother, kind and good,
Was humbly born in a stable rude;
The friendly beasts around Him stood,
Jesus our brother, kind and good.
“I,” said the donkey, shaggy and brown,
“I carried His Mother up hill and down;
I carried her safely to Bethlehem town,
I,” said the donkey, shaggy and brown.
“I,” said the cow, all white and red,
“I gave Him my manger for His bed;
I gave Him my hay to pillow His head.
I,” said the cow, all white and red.
“I,” said the sheep with the curly horn,
”I gave Him my wool for a blanket warm.
He wore my coat on Christmas morn.
I,”said the sheep with the curly horn.
“I,” said the dove from the rafters high,
”I cooed Him to sleep so He would not cry,
I cooed Him to sleep, my mate and I.
I,” said the dove from the rafters high.
And every beast, by some good spell,
In the stable dark was glad to tell,
Of the gift he gave Immanuel.
The gift he gave Immanuel.
—An old carol from France
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Foreign Lands
Up into the cherry tree
Who should climb but little me?
I held the trunk with both my hands
And looked abroad on foreign lands.
I saw the next door garden lie,
Adorned with flowers, before my eye,
And many pleasant places more
That I had never seen before.
I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sky’s blue looking-glass;
The dusty roads go up and down
With people trampling in to town.
If I could find a higher tree
Farther and farther I could see,
To where the grown-up river slips
Into the sea among the ships,
To where the roads on either hand
Lead onward into fairyland,
Where all the children dine at five,
And all the playthings come alive.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Arithmetic
Arithmetic is where numbers fly
like pigeons in and out of your head.
Arithmetic tells you how many you lose or win
if you know how many you had
before you lost or won.
Arithmetic is seven eleven all good children
go to heaven—or five six bundle of sticks.
Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your
head to your hand to your pencil to
your paper
till you get the right answer ...
If you have two animal crackers, one good and one bad,
and you eat one and a striped zebra
with streaks all over him eats the other,
how many animal crackers will you have
if somebody offers you five six seven
and you say
No no no and you say Nay nay nay
And you say Nix nix nix?
If you ask your mother for one fried egg
for breakfast and she gives you
two fried eggs and you
eat both of them, who is better
in arithmetic
you or your mother?
—Carl Sandburg
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Gift of Friendship
Friendship is a priceless gift that cannot
be bought or sold
But its value is far greater than a
mountain made of gold.
For gold is cold and lifeless, it can neither
see nor hear,
And in the time of trouble, it is powerless
to cheer.
It has no ears to listen, no heart to
understand.
It cannot bring you comfort, or reach out
a helping hand.
So when you ask God for a gift, be
thankful if He sends
Not diamonds, pearls or riches, but the
love of real true friends.
—Helen Steiner Rice
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
F. Scott Fitzgerald to His Daughter
Worry about courage
Worry about cleanliness
Worry about efficiency
Worry about horsemanship
Things not to worry about:
Don’t worry about popular opinion
Don’t worry about dolls
Don’t worry about the past
Don’t worry about the future
Don’t worry about growing up
Don’t worry about anybody getting ahead of you
Don’t worry about triumph
Don’t worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault
Don’t worry about mosquitoes
Don’t worry about flies
Don’t worry about insects in general
Don’t worry about parents
Don’t worry about boys
Don’t worry about disappointments
Don’t worry about pleasures
Don’t worry about satisfactions
Things to think about:
What am I really aiming at?
How good am I in comparison to my
contemporaries in regard to:
(a) Scholarship
(b) Do I really understand about
people and am I able to get along
with them?
(c) Am I trying to make my body a
useful instrument or am I neglecting it?
—From The Book of Virtues
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Good Little Girl
It’s funny how often they say to me, “Jane?”
”Have you been a good girl?”
“Have you been a good girl?”
And when they have said it, they say it again,
“Have you been a good girl?”
“Have you been a good girl?”
I go to a party, I go out to tea,
I go to an aunt for a week at the sea,
I come back from school or from
playing a game;
Wherever I come from, it’s always the same:
“Well?
Have you been a good girl, Jane?”
It’s always the end of the loveliest day:
“Have you been a good girl?”
“Have you been a good girl?”
I went to the Zoo, and they waited to say:
“Have you been a good girl?”
“Have you been a good girl?”
Well, what did they think that I went there to do?
And why should I want to be bad at the Zoo?
And should I be likely to say if I had?
So that’s why it’s funny of Mummy and Dad,
This asking and asking, in case I was bad,
“Well?
Have you been a good girl, Jane?”
—A. A. Milne
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Grace at Evening
For all the beauties of the day,
The innocence of childhood’s play,
For health and strength and laughter sweet,
Dear Lord, our thanks we now repeat.
For this our daily gift of food
We offer now our gratitude,
For all the blessings we have known
Our debt of gratefulness we own.
Here at the table now we pray,
Keep us together down the way;
May this, our family circle, be
Held fast by love and unity.
Grant, when the shades of night shall fall,
Sweet be the dreams of one and all;
And when another day shall break
Unto Thy service may we wake.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Hide and Seek
I looked in the house.
I looked in the yard.
I looked near the swing.
I looked very hard.
I called your name
And peeked near the stair,
And searched the garage
I looked everywhere!
So, come out! Come out! Wherever you are—
I know you can’t be very far.
Come out! Come out! Let’s start all over.
It’s no fun finding such a rover.
Aha! I see you! You can’t fool me.
There you are behind the tree.
Oh, no! Don’t say the game is ended.
I think Hide and Seek is splendid!
—Mimi Brodsky
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Hiding
I’m hiding, I’m hiding;
And no one knows where,
For all they can see is my
Toes and my hair.
And I just heard my father
Say to my mother—
“But, darling, he must be
Somewhere or other;
Have you looked in the ink well?”
And Mother said, “Where?”
“In the INK well,” said Father. But
I was not there.
Then “Wait!” cried my mother
“I think that I see
Him under the carpet.” But
It was not me.
“Inside the mirror’s
A pretty good place,”
Said Father and looked but saw
Only his face.
“We’ve hunted,” sighed Mother,
“As hard as we could
And I AM so afraid that we’ve
Lost him for good.”
Then I laughed out aloud
And I wiggled my toes
And Father said— “Look, Dear
I wonder if those
Toes could be Benny’s.
There are ten of them. See?”
And they were so surprised to find
Out it was me!
—Dorothy Aldis
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
I Am an American
“I was born an American; I live an American; I shall
die an American and I intend to perform the duties
incumbent upon me in that character to the end of
my career. I mean to do this with absolute disregard
of personal consequences.”
“What are the personal consequences? What is the
individual man, with all the good or evil that may
betide him in comparison with the good or evil
which may befall a great country and in the midst
of great transactions which may concern that
country’s fate?”
“Let the consequences be what they will, I am
careless. No man can suffer too much and no man
can fall too soon, if he suffers, or if he fall, in the
defense of the liberties and the Constitution of his
country.”
—Daniel Webster
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
If You Were
If you were busy being kind,
Before you knew it, you would find
You’d soon forget to think ‘twas true
That someone was unkind to you.
If you were busy being glad,
And cheering people who are sad,
Although your heart might ache a bit,
You’d soon forget to notice it.
If you were busy being good,
And doing just the best you could,
You’d not have time to blame some man
Who’s doing just the best he can.
If you were busy being right,
You’d find yourself too busy quite
To criticize your neighbor long
Because he’s busy being wrong.
—From The Book of Virtues
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
An Introduction to Dogs
The dog is man’s best friend.
He has a tail on one end.
Up in front he has teeth.
And four legs underneath.
Dogs like to bark.
They like it best after dark.
They not only frighten prowlers away
But also hold the sandman at bay.
A dog that is indoors
To be let out implores.
You let him out and what then?
He wants back in again.
Dogs display reluctance and wrath
If you try to give them a bath.
They bury bones in hideaways
And half the time they trot sideways.
They cheer up people who are frowning
And rescue people who are drowning,
They also track in mud on beds,
And chew people’s clothes to shreds.
Dogs in the country have fun.
They run and run and run.
But in the city this species
Is dragged around on leashes.
Dogs are upright as a steeple
And much more loyal than people.
—Ogden Nash
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
It Is Raining
It is raining.
Where would you like to be in the rain?
Where would you like to be?
I’d like to be on the city street
Where the rain comes down in a driving sheet,
Where it wets the houses—roofs and wall—
The wagons and horses and autos and all.
That’s where I’d like to be in the rain,
That’s where I’d like to be.
It is raining.
Where would you like to be in the rain?
Where would you like to be?
I’d like to be on a ship at sea,
Where everything’s wet as wet as can be
And the waves are rolling high,
Where sailors are pulling the rope and singing,
And wind’s in the rigging and salt spray’s singing
And round us sea gulls cry.
On a dipping skimming ship at sea—
That’s where I’d like to be in the rain!
That’s where I’d like to be!
—Lucy Sprague Mitchell
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42
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
I Meant to Do My Work Today
I meant to do my work today,
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand—
So what could I do but laugh and go?
—Richard Le Gallienne
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Jonathan Bing
Poor old Jonathan Bing
Went out in his carriage to visit the King,
But everyone pointed and said, “Look at that!
Jonathan Bing has forgotten his hat!”
(He’d forgotten his hat!)
Poor old Jonathan Bing
Went home and put on a new hat for the King,
But up by the palace a soldier said, “Hi!
You can’t see the King: you’ve forgotten your tie!”
(He’s forgotten his tie!)
Poor old Jonathan Bing
He put on a beautiful tie for the King,
But when he arrived an Archbishop said, “Ho!
You can’t come to court in pajamas, you know!”
Poor old Jonathan Bing
Went home and addressed a short note to the King:
If you please will excuse me
I won’t come to tea;
For home’s the best place for
All people like me!
—Beatrice Curtis Brown
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Kindness to Animals
Little children, never give
Pain to things that feel and live;
Let the gentle robin come
For the crumbs you save at home;
As his meat you throw along
He’ll repay you with a song.
Never hurt the timid hare
Peeping from her green grass lair,
Let her come and sport and play
On the lawn at close of day.
The little lark goes soaring high
To the bright windows of the sky,
Singing as if ‘twere always spring,
And fluttering on an untired wing—
Oh! let him sing his happy song,
Nor do these gentle creatures wrong.
—From The Book of Virtues
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Lamb
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee:
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
—William Blake
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Lamplighter
My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky;
It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by;
For every night at teatime and before you take
your seat
With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up
the street.
Now Tom would be the driver and Maria go to sea,
And my Papa’s a banker and as rich as he can be;
But I, when I am stronger and can choose what
I’m to do,
O Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light the
lamps with you.
For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,
And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;
And oh! before you hurry by with ladder and
with light,
O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him tonight!
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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47
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Land of Storybooks
At evening, when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.
Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.
There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter’s camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.
These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.
I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowl about.
So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear Land of Story-Books.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Library
It looks like any building
When you pass it on the street,
Made of stone and glass and marble,
Made of iron and concrete.
But once inside you can ride
A camel or a train,
Visit Rome, Siam, or Nome,
Feel a hurricane,
Meet a king, learn to sing,
How to bake a pie,
Go to sea, plant a tree,
Find how airplanes fly,
Train a horse, and of course
Have all the dogs you’d like,
See the moon, a sandy dune,
Or catch a whopping pike.
Everything that books can bring
You’ll find inside those walls.
A world is there for you to share
When adventure calls.
You cannot tell its magic
By the way the building looks,
But there’s wonderment within it,
The wonderment of books.
—Barbara A. Huff
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Lincoln
There was a boy of other days,
A quiet, awkward, earnest lad,
Who trudged long weary miles to get
A book on which his heart was set—
And then no candle had!
He was too poor to buy a lamp
But very wise in woodmen’s ways.
He gathered seasoned bough and stem,
And crisping leaf, and kindled them
Into a ruddy blaze.
Then as he lay full length and read,
The firelight flickered on his face
And etched his shadow on the gloom
And made a picture on the room
In that most humble place.
The hard years came, the hard years went,
But gentle, brave and strong of will,
He met them all. And when today
We see his pictured face, we say
“There’s light upon it still.”
—Nancy Byrd Turner
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Lincoln’s Story
When Lincoln was a little boy,
He was very, very poor,
His home, a rude hut of logs,
With no window, or a door.
Beside the open fireplace
In winter evenings cold,
He worked out his arithmetic
On a shovel, with charcoal.
He studied all the time he could
His books were old and few,
He read them all so many times
He knew them through and through.
Kind to the aged and the poor,
A cheerful word for all,
He learned to be both wise and good;
Loved by the children small.
When people learned that he was wise,
Honest and kind and true—
They made our Lincoln President—
As it was right to do.
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
I Looked in the Mirror
I looked in the mirror
And what did I see—
A funny little monkey
Looking back at me.
I looked in the closet
And I had to laugh—
When I saw a long-necked
Spotty giraffe.
I looked in the kitchen
And what do you think—
I saw a swan swimming
In the kitchen sink.
Wherever I looked
I found something queer—
A purple balloon
Or a blue reindeer,
I looked in the icebox
And what do you know—
Sitting on the cheese
Was a coal-black crow.
A cat in the cupboard
A mouse in the tea—
But I never did find
What I went out to see.
I looked in the bedroom
And under the bed—
I saw a little beetle
Stark stone dead.
No, I never did find
What I set out to see—
I looked everywhere
But I never found—me.
I looked in the bathroom
And sitting in the tub—
Was a big polar bear
And her little bear cub.
—Beatrice Schenk DeRegniers
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Lost Shoe
Poor little Lucy
By some mischance,
Lost her shoe
As she did dance:
‘Twas not on the stairs,
Not in the hall;
Not where they sat
At supper at all.
She looked in the garden,
But there it was not;
Henhouse, or kennel,
Or high dovecote.
Dairy and meadow,
And wild woods through
Showed not a trace
Of Lucy’s shoe.
Bird nor bunny
Nor glimmering moon
Breathed a whisper
Of where ‘twas gone.
It was cried and cried,
Oyez and Oyez!
In French, Dutch, Latin,
And Portuguese.
Ships the dark seas
Went plunging through,
But none brought news
Of Lucy’s shoe;
And still she patter
In silk and leather,
O’er snow, sand, shingle,
In every weather;
Spain, and Africa,
Hindustan,
Java, China, and lamped Japan;
Plain and desert,
She hops-hops through,
Pernambuco to gold Peru;
Mountain and forest,
And river too,
All the world over
For her lost shoe.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Walter de la Mare
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Mortifying Mistake
I studied my tables over and over,
and backward and forward too;
But I couldn’t remember six times nine,
and I didn’t know what to do,
Till my sister told me to play with my
doll, and not to bother my head.
“If you call her ‘Fifty-four’ for a
while, you’ll learn it by hear,” she said
So I took my favorite, Mary Ann
(though I thought ‘twas a dreadful shame
To give such a perfectly lovely child
such a perfectly horrid name),
And I called her my dear little “Fifty-four”
a hundred time, till I knew
The answer of six times nine as well
as the answer to two times two.
Next day Elizabeth Wiggleworth,
who always acts so proud,
Said, “Six times nine is fifty-two,”
and I nearly laughed aloud!
But I wished I hadn’t when teacher said,
“Now, Dorothy, tell if you can.”
For I thought of my doll, and ‘sakes alive!—
I answered “Mary Ann!”
—Anna Maria Pratt
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Mummy Slept Late and Daddy Fixed Breakfast
Daddy fixed breakfast.
He made us each a waffle.
It looked like gravel pudding.
It tasted something awful.
“Ha, ha,” he said, “I’ll try again.
This time I’ll get it right.”
But what I got was in between
Bituminous and anthracite.
“A little too well done? Oh well,
I’ll have to start all over.”
That time what landed on my plate
Looked like a manhole cover.
I tried to cut it with a fork
The fork gave off a spark.
I tried a knife and twisted it
Into a question mark.
I tried it with a hack-saw.
I tried it with a torch.
It didn’t even make a dent.
It didn’t even scorch.
The next time Dad gets breakfast
When Mummy’s sleeping late,
I think I’ll skip the waffles.
I’d sooner eat the plate!
—John Ciardi
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
My Dog
His nose is short and scrubby;
His ears hang rather low;
And he always brings the stick back,
No matter how far you throw.
He gets spanked rather often
For things he shouldn’t do
Like lying-on-beds, and barking,
And eating up shoes when they’re new.
He always wants to be going
Where he isn’t supposed to go.
He tracks up the house when it’s snowing
Oh, puppy, I love you so.
He sits and begs, he gives a paw,
He is, as you can see,
The finest dog you ever saw,
And he belongs to me.
He follows everywhere I go
And even when I swim.
I laugh because he thinks, you know,
That I belong to him.
But still no matter what we do
We never have a fuss;
And so I guess it must be true
That we belong to us.
—Marchette Chute
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
My Shadow
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For sometimes he shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
My Speech
Folks think I’m such a tiny tot
That I can’t make a speech,
For someone said to Mamma
I am too young to teach.
And then another voice replied
“I’m sorry you are sad,
But misery loves company
And I am just as bad.
But I can tell a story
I’m sure you never heard;
And if you’ll only listen,
I’ll tell you every word.
I’ve worked all day from morn till eve,
Right side by side with you;
I’ve suffered woes, until, until—
My sole’s worn through and through.
One morning very early
I heard a whisper low,
It came from near my bedside,
This little voice, you know.
Then let us creep together, close,
Our waning life to spend;
For this is just a solemn fact,
We are too bad to mend.”
“Oh dear, I’m very wretched,
Is any one more tried?
For just behold my trouble,
I’m broken in my side.
Just then I opened my eyes
To hear such awful news,
And by my bed I only saw
My little worn-out shoes.
I’m torn and bruised and scratched
And grown so very thin,
It is indeed a really sad
Condition I am in.”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Mrs. E. H. Goodfellow
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Owl and the Pussycat
The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are, You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
Let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away for a year and a day,
To the land where the bong-tree grows;
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose, His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon, The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
—Edward Lear
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Pancake Collector
Come visit my pancake collection,
it’s unique in the civilized world.
I have pancakes for every description,
pancakes flaky and fluffy and curled.
I have pancakes of various sizes,
pancakes regular, heavy and light,
underdone pancakes and overdone pancakes,
and pancakes done perfectly right.
I have pancakes locked up in the closets,
I have pancakes on hangers and hooks.
They’re in bags and in boxes and bureaus,
and pressed in the pages of books.
There are pretty ones sewn to the cushions
and tastefully pinned to the drapes.
The ceilings are coated with pancakes,
and the carpets are covered with crepes.
I have pancakes in most of my pockets,
and concealed in the linings of suits.
There are tiny ones stuffed in my mittens
and larger ones packed in my boots.
I see that you’ve got to be going,
Won’t you let yourselves out by the door?
It is time that I pour out the batter
and bake up a few hundred more.
—Jack Prelutsky
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Puppy and I
I met a man as I went walking;
We got talking,
Man and I.
“Where are you going to, Man?” I said.
(I said to the Man as he went by)
“Down to the village to get some bread.
Will you come with me?” “No, not I.”
I met a horse as I went walking;
We got talking,
Horse and I.
“Where are you going to, Horse, today?”
(I said to the Horse as he went by)
“Down to the village to get some hay.
Will you come with me?” “No, not I.”
I met a Woman as I went walking;
We got talking,
Woman and I.
“Where are you going to, Woman, so
early?”
(I said to the Woman as she went by)
“Down to the village to get some barley.
Will you come with me?” “No, not I.”
I met some Rabbits as I went walking;
We got talking,
Rabbits and I.
“Where are you going in your brown fur
coats?”
(I said to the Rabbits as they went by)
“Down to the village to get some oats.
Will you come with us?” “No, not I.”
I met a Puppy as I went walking;
We got talking,
Puppy and I.
“Where are you going this fine day?”
(I said to the Puppy as he went by)
“Up in the hills to roll and play.”
“I’ll come with you, Puppy,” said I.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—A. A. Milne
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Sea-Song from the Shore
Hail! Ho!
Sail! Ho!
Ahoy! Ahoy! Ahoy!
Who calls to me,
So far at sea?
Only a little boy!
Sail! Ho!
Hail! Ho!
The sailor he sails the sea,
I wish he would capture
A little sea-horse
And send him home to me.
I wish, as he sails
Through the tropical gales,
He would catch me a sea-bird, too,
With its silver wings
And the song it sings,
And its breast of down and dew!
I wish he would catch me
A little Mermaid,
Some island where he lands,
And her dripping curls,
And her crown of pearls,
And the looking-glass in her hands!
Hail! Ho!
Sail! Ho!
Sail far o’er the fabulous main!
And if I were a sailor,
I’d sail with you,
Though I never sail back again!
—James Whitcomb Riley
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Secret Cavern
Underneath the boardwalk, way, way back
There’s a splendid cavern, big and black.
If you want to get there, you must crawl
Underneath the posts and steps and all.
When I’ve finished paddling, there I go—
None of all the other children know!
There I keep my treasures in a box
Shells and colored glass, and queer-shaped rocks,
In a secret hiding-place I’ve made,
Hollowed out with clamshells and a spade,
Marked with yellow pebbles in a row—
None of all the other children know!
It’s a place that makes a splendid lair,
Room for chests and weapons and one chair.
In the farthest corner, by the stones,
I shall have a flag with skulls and bones
And a lamp that casts a lurid glow—
None of all the other children know!
Some time, by and by, when I am grown
I shall go and live there all alone;
I shall dig and paddle till it’s dark,
Then go out and man my private bark;
I shall fill my cave with captive foe—
None of all the other children know!
—Margaret Viddemer
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Sermons We See
I’d rather see a sermon than hear one any day,
I’d rather one should walk with me than merely show the way.
The eye’s a better pupil and more willing than the ear;
Fine counsel is confusing, but example’s always clear;
And the best of all the preachers are the men who live their creeds,
For to see the good in action is what everybody needs.
I can soon learn how to do it if you’ll let me see it done.
I can watch your hands in action, but your tongue too fast may run.
And the lectures you deliver may be very wise and true;
But I’d rather get my lesson by observing what you do.
For I may misunderstand you and the high advice you give,
But there’s no misunderstanding how you act and how you live.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Spring
I’m shouting
I’m singing
I’m swinging through trees
I’m winging skyhigh
With the buzzing black bees.
I’m the sun
I’m the moon
I’m the dew on the rose.
I’m a rabbit
Whose habit
Is twitching his nose.
I’m lively
I’m lovely
I’m kicking my heels.
I’m crying “Come dance”
To the freshwater eels.
I’m racing through meadows
Without any coat
I’m a gamboling lamb
I’m a light leaping goat
I’m a bud
I’m a bloom
I’m a dove on the wing.
I’m running on rooftops
And welcoming spring!
—Karla Kuskin
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Story of the Baby Squirrel
He ran right out of the woods to me,
Little and furry and panting with fright;
I offered a finger just to see—
And both of his paws held on to it tight.
Was it dogs that had scared him? A crashing limb?
I waited a while but there wasn’t a sign
Of his mother coming to rescue him,
So then I decided he was mine.
I lifted him up and he wasn’t afraid
To ride along in the crook of my arm.
“A very fine place,” he thought, “just made
For keeping me comfortable, safe, and warm.”
At home he seemed happy to guzzle his milk
Out of an eye dropper six times a day.
We gave him a pillow of damask silk
On which he very royally lay.
He frisked on the carpets, he whisked up the stairs,
(Where he played with some soap ‘til it made him sneeze).
He loved it exploring the tables and chairs,
And he climbed up the curtains exactly like trees.
We watched his fuzzy gray stomach swell.
He grew until he could leave a dent
In the pillow on which he’d slept so well—
And then ... Oh, then one morning he went.
Perhaps a squirrel around the place
Adopted him: oh, we’re certain it’s true
For once a little looking down face
Seemed to be saying: “How do you do?”
—Dorothy A. Idis
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Story of Flying Robert
When the rain comes tumbling down
In the country or the town,
All good little girls and boys
Stay at home and mind their toys.
Robert thought, “No, when it pours,
It is better out of doors.”
Rain it did, and in a minute
Bob was in it
Here you see him, silly fellow,
Underneath his red umbrella.
What a wind! Oh! how it whistles
Through the trees and flowers and thistles!
It had caught his red umbrella;
Now look at him, silly fellow,
Up he flies
To the skies.
No one heard his screams and cries,
Through the clouds the rude wind bore him,
And his hat flew on before him.
Soon they got to such a height,
They were nearly out of sight!
And the hat went up so high,
That it really touched the sky.
No one ever yet could tell
Where they stopped or where they fell:
Only, this one thing is plain,
Bob was never seen again!
—From the German of Heinrich Hoffman
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Tell Him So
If you have a word of cheer that may
light the pathway drear,
Of a brother pilgrim here, let him know.
Show him you appreciate what he does and do not wait
Till the heavy hand of fate lays him low.
If your heart contains a thought that will
brighter make his lot,
Then, in mercy, hide it not; tell him so.
Wait not till your friend is dead ‘ere your
compliments are said;
For the spirit that has fled, if it know,
does not need to speed it on
Our poor praise; where it has gone,
love’s eternal, golden dawn is aglow.
But unto our brother here that poor praise
is very dear;
If you’ve any word of cheer, tell him so.
—F. A. Egerton
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
This and That
Mary Mcguire’s our cook, you know;
And Bridget McCann, our neighbor,
Does whatever she finds to do,
And lives by honest labor;
And every morning when she comes
To help about the dairy,
“A foine day this!” says Bridget McCann,
“It is that!” answers Mary.
It may be June, or it may be March
With sleet and wild winds blowing,
Whether it’s warm and bright, and fair,
Or whether it’s cold and snowing,
Bridget McCann comes bouncing in
Her cheeks as red as a cherry,
And “A foine day this!” she always says
“It is that!” answers Mary.
—Florence Boyce Davis
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Three Little Kittens
Three little kittens lost their mittens,
And they began to cry,
O mother dear,
We sadly fear
That we have lost our mittens.
Lost your mittens!
You naughty kittens!
Then you shall have no pie.
Mew, mew, mew.
No, you shall have no pie.
Mew, mew, mew.
Three little kittens found their mittens,
Found your mittens,
You little kittens,
Then you may have some pie.
Purr, purr, purr.
Oh, let us have the pie.
Purr, purr, purr.
Soiled your mitten!
You naughty kittens!
Then they began to sigh.
Mew, mew, mew.
The three little kittens washed their mittens
And hung them out to dry.
O mother dear,
Look here, look here!
See! We have washed our mittens.
Washed your mittens!
Oh, you’re good kittens.
But I smell a rat close by.
Hush! Hush! Mew, mew.
We smell a rat near by.
Mew, mew, mew.
The three little kittens put on their mittens,
And soon ate up their pie.
O mother dear
We greatly fear
That we have soiled our mittens.
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—Eliza Cook
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Tiger-Cat Tim
Timothy Tim was a very small cat
Who looked like a tiger the size of a rat.
There were little black stripes running all over him,
With just enough white on his feet for a trim
On Tiger-Cat Tim.
Timothy Tim had a little pink tongue
That was spoon, comb, and washcloth all made into one.
He lapped up his milk, washed and combed all his fur,
And then he sat down in the sunshine to purr.
Full little Tim!
Timothy Tim had a queer little way
Of always pretending at things in his play.
He caught pretend mice in the grass and sand,
And fought pretend cats when he played with your hand,
Fierce little Tim!
He drank all his milk, and he grew and grew.
He ate all his meat and his vegetables too.
He grew very big and he grew very fat,
And now he’s a lazy old, sleepy old cat,
Timothy Tim!
—Edith H. Newlin
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Trees
Trees are the kindest things I know,
They do no harm, they simply grow.
And spread a shade for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their boughs.
They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Halloween
And in the spring new buds of green.
They are the first when day’s begun
To touch the beams of morning sun.
They are the last to hold the light
When evening changes into night.
And when a moon floats on the sky
They hum a drowsy lullaby.
Of sleepy children long ago.
Trees are the kindest things I know.
—Harry Behn
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Trees
To me trees are the loveliest things,
Their friendly arms always outspread;
Sometimes in them I see bright wings,
A nest, and then a young bird’s head.
I love the trees when morning dew
Like prisms hang, or diamonds rare;
I love them in the noontide too;
They shield me from the sun’s warm glare.
I love them in the autumn when
They deck themselves in gay attire;
They flaunt their colors proudly then,
And blaze as with a living fire.
I love them when the breezes blow
The dancing, trembling, painted leaves;
I love them when the fleecy snow
Among their branches magic weaves.
When in the mellow moonlight glow,
As sentinels I see them stand,
I hear their voices soft and low;
They tell me tales of fairyland.
—Grace Oakes Burton
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Two Little Maids
Little Miss Nothing-to-do
Is fretful and cross and so blue,
And the light in her eyes
Is all dim when she cries
And her friends, they are few, Oh, so few!
Her dolls, they are nothing but sawdust and clothes,
Whenever she wants to go skating it snows,
And everything’s criss-cross, the world is askew!
I wouldn’t be Little Miss Nothing-to-do
Would you?
Little Miss Busy-all-day
Is cheerful and happy and gay
And she isn’t a shirk
For she smiles at her work
And she romps when it comes time for play.
Her dolls, they are princesses, blue-eyed and fair,
She makes them a throne from a rickety chair,
And everything happens the jolliest way,
I’d rather be Little Miss Busy-all-day, Hurray,
I’d rather be Little Miss Busy-all-day, I say.
—James W. Foley
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Unwinged Ones
I don’t travel on planes.
I travel on trains.
Once in a while, on trains,
I see people who travel on planes.
Every once in a while I’m surrounded
By people whose planes have been grounded.
I’m enthralled by their air-minded snobbery,
Their exclusive hobnobbery.
They feel that they have to explain
How they happen to be on a train,
For even in Drawing Room A
They seem to feel déclassé
So they sit with portentous faces
Clutching their attaché cases.
They grumble and fume about how
They’d have been in Miami by now.
By the time that they’re passing through Rahway
They should be in Havana or Norway,
And they strongly imply that perhaps,
Since they’re late, the world will collapse.
Sometimes on the train I’m
By people whose planes have been grounded.
That’s the only trouble with trains;
When it fogs, when it smogs, when it rains,
You get people from planes.
—Ogden Nash
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Us Two
Wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,
There’s always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do.
“Where are you going today?” says Pooh:
“Well, that’s very odd ‘cos I was too.
Let’s go together,” says Pooh, says he.
“Let’s go together,” says Pooh.
“What’s twice eleven?” I said to Pooh.
(“Twice what?” said Pooh to Me.)
“I think it ought to be twenty-two.”
“Just what I think myself,” said Pooh,
“It wasn’t an easy sum to do,
But that’s what it is,” said Pooh, said he.
“That’s what it is,” said Pooh.
“Let’s look for dragons,” I said to Pooh.
“Yes, let’s,” said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few
”Yes, those are dragons all right,” said
Pooh.
“As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That’s what they are,” said Pooh, said he.
“That’s what they are,” said Pooh.
“Let’s frighten the dragons,” I said to Pooh.
“That’s right,” said Pooh to Me.
“I’m not afraid,” I said to Pooh.
And I held his paw and I shouted “Shoo!
Silly old dragons!” and off they flew.
“I wasn’t afraid,” said Pooh, said he.
“I’m never afraid with you.”
So wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,
There’s always Pooh and Me.
“What would I do?” I said to Pooh,
“If it wasn’t for you,” and Pooh said: “True,
It isn’t much fun for One, but Two
Can stick together,” says Pooh, says he.
“That’s how it is,” says Pooh.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—A. A. Milne
Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Very Early
When I wake in the early mist
The sun has hardly shown
And everything is still asleep
And I’m awake alone.
The stars are faint and flickering.
The sun is new and shy.
And all the world sleeps quietly,
Except the sun and I.
And then beginning noises start,
The whirrs and huffs and hums,
The birds peep out to find a worm,
The mice squeak out for crumbs,
The calf moos out to find the cow,
And taste the morning air
And everything is wide awake
And running everywhere.
The dew has dried,
The fields are warm,
The day is loud and bright,
And I’m the one who woke the sun
And kissed the stars good night.
—Karla Kuskin
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Vespers
Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head,
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.
God bless Mummy. I know that’s right.
Wasn’t it fun in the bath tonight?
The cold’s so cold and the hot’s so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy—I quite forgot.
If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny’s dressing gown on the door.
It’s a beautiful blue, but it hasn’t a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.
Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I’m here at all.
Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said “Bless Daddy,” so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember it. God bless Me.
Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.
—A. A. Milne
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Wayfaring Song
O who will walk a mile with me
Along life’s merry way?
A comrade blithe and full of glee,
Who dares to laugh out loud and free
And let his frolic fancy play,
Like a happy child, through the flowers gay
That fill the field and fringe the way
Where he walks a mile with me.
And who will walk a mile with me
Along life’s weary way?
A friend whose heart has eyes to see
The stars shine out o’er the darkening lea,
And the quiet rest at the end o’ the day
A friend who knows, and dares to say,
The brave, sweet words that cheer the way
Where he walks a mile with me.
With such a comrade, such a friend,
I fain would walk till journey’s end,
Through summer sunshine, winter rain,
And then?—Farewell, we shall meet again!
—Henry Van Dyke
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
What Have We Done Today?
We shall do much in the years to come
But what have we done today?
We shall give our gold in a princely sum,
But what did we give today?
We shall lift the heart and dry the tear,
We shall plant a hope in the place of fear,
We shall speak the words of love and cheer,
But what did we speak today?
We shall be so kind in the after while,
But have we been today?
We shall bring to each lonely life a smile
But what have we brought today?
We shall give to truth a grander birth,
And to steadfast faith a deeper worth,
We shall feed the hungering souls of earth.
But whom have we fed today?
We shall reap such joys in the by-and-by,
But what have we sown today?
We shall build us mansions in the sky,
But what have we built today?
‘Tis sweet in the idle dreams to bask;
But here and now, do we our task?
Yet, this is the thing our souls must ask,
What have we done today?
—Nixon Waterman
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
What Is a Teacher
What is a teacher? She’s so much that’s fine,
A precious companion, a mother part-time;
She patches up bruises and wipes away tears,
With a kind understanding, she banishes fears.
A teacher is blessed with a patience so rare,
A voice soft and gentle, a heart sweet and fair,
She lends of her knowledge that each child might see
The reason for learning, and accept graciously.
What is a teacher ... a heartwarming smile,
A very good listener, so much that’s worthwhile.
A playmate at recess, what pleasant delight,
A stern referee if someone starts a fight.
A teacher is laughter, she’s pleasant and gay
Yet she disciplines firmly, should a child disobey;
An adult or a playmate, she has too much to lend.
What is a teacher? A child’s dearest friend.
—Garnett Ann Schultz
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The Wind
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—
O wind, a-blowing all day long
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Which Loved Best
“I love you, mother,” said little John;
Then, forgetting work, his cap went on,
And he was off to the garden swing,
Leaving his mother the wood to bring.
“I love you, mother,” said rosy Nell;
“I love you better than tongue can tell;”
Then she teased and pouted full half the day,
Till her mother rejoiced when she went to play.
“I love you, mother,” said little Fran;
“Today I’ll help you all I can;
How glad I am that school doesn’t keep!”
So she rocked the baby till it fell asleep.
Then, stepping softly, she took the broom,
And swept the floor, and dusted the room;
Busy and happy all day was she,
Helpful and cheerful as child could be.
“I love you, mother,” again they said—
Three little children going to bed;
How do you think that mother guessed
Which of them really loved her best?
—Joy Allison
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Work
Let me but do my work from day to day,
In field or forest, the desk or loom,
In roaring market-place or tranquil room;
Let me but find it in my heart to say,
When vagrant wishes beckon me astray,
“This is my work; my blessing, not my doom;
Of all who live, I am the one by whom
This work can best be done in the right way.”
Then shall I see it not too great, nor small.
To suit my spirit and to prove my powers;
Then shall I cheerful greet the laboring hours,
And cheerful turn, when the long shadows fall
At eventide, to play and love and rest,
Because I know for me my work is best.
—Henry Van Dyke
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
The World’s Bible
Christ has no hands but our hands
To do His work today;
He has no feet but our feet
To lead men in His way;
He has no tongue but our tongue
To tell men how He died;
He has no help but our help
To bring them to His side.
We are the only Bible
The careless world will read;
We are the sinner’s gospel,
We are the scoffer’s creed;
We are the Lord’s last message,
Given in deed and word;
What if the type is crooked?
What if the print is blurred?
What if our hands are busy
With other work than His?
What if our feet are walking
Where sin’s allurement is?
What if our tongues are speaking
Of things His lips would spurn.
How can we hope to help Him
And hasten His return?
—Annie Johnson Flint
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
A Wrecker or a Builder
I watched them tearing a building down,
A gang of men in a busy town.
With a ho-heave-ho and a lusty yell
They swung a beam and the side wall fell.
I said to the foreman,
“Are these men skilled,
And the ones you’d hire
If you had to build?”
He gave a laugh and said, “No, indeed,
Just common labor is all I need.
I can easily wreck in a day or two
What builders have taken a year to do.”
And I thought to myself,
As I went my way,
“Which of these roles
Am I trying to play?
Am I shaping my life
To a well-made plan
Patiently doing the
Best that I can?
Am I doing my work
With the utmost care,
Measuring life
By the rule and square?
Oram I a wrecker
Who wrecks the town
Content with the labor
Of tearing down?”
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Written in March
The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter.
The green field sleeps in the sun:
The oldest and the youngest
Are at work with the strongest,
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding as one!
Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated.
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The ploughboy is whooping-anon-anon;
There’s joy in the mountains;
There’s life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!
—William Wordsworth
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Student Activities 3rd Grade Poetry Handbook
Yesterday in Oxford Street
Yesterday in Oxford Street, oh, what d’you think, my dears?
I had the most exciting time I’ve had for years and years;
The buildings looked so straight and tall, the sky was blue between
And riding on a motor-bus, I saw the fairy queen!
Sitting there upon the rail and bobbing up and down,
The sun was shining on her wings and on her golden crown;
And looking at the shops she was, the pretty silks and lace—
She seemed to think that Oxford Street was quite a lovely place.
And once she turned and looked at me, and waved her little hand;
But I could only stare and stare—oh, would she understand?
I simply couldn’t speak at all, I simply couldn’t stir,
And all the rest of Oxford Street was just a shining blur.
Then suddenly she shook her wings—a bird had fluttered by—
And down into the street she looked and up into the sky;
And perching on the railing on a tiny fairy toe,
She flashed away so quickly that I hardly saw her go.
I never saw her any more, altho’ I looked all day:
Perhaps she only came to peep, and never meant to stay;
But, oh, my dears, just think of it, just think what luck for me,
That she should come to Oxford Street, and I be there to see!
—Rose Fyleman
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ELEMENTARY SPEECH
4TH GRADE POETRY
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
One, Two, Three 21
A Boy and His Stomach 4
The Prayer of Cyrus Brown 22
Binker 5
Relatives 23
Brighten the Corner Where You Are 6
The Secret of Happiness 24
The Circus Parade 7
A Smile 25
Daddy’s Reward 8
Sneezles 26
Daffodils 9
Somebody’s Mother 27
The Flag Goes By 10
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening 28
Harriet Tubman 11
The Sugar-Plum Tree 29
If I Were a Pilgrim Child 12
Trees 30
The King’s Breakfast 13
The Umbrella Brigade 31
Little Boy Blue 14
Us Two 32
Mary 15
The Violet 33
Mr. Nobody 16
When Grandpa Was a Boy (Recitation for a Boy) 34
My Heart’s in the Highlands 17
The Wind 35
My Shadow 18
A Windy Day 36
My Wise Old Grandpapa 19
Winter Fun 37
One Winter Night in August 20
Your Neighbor 38
Please note: These are not required poems, but examples of
acceptable material. Comparable pieces may be chosen from
other sources if approved by school coordinator.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
A Boy and His Stomach
What’s the matter with you-ain’t I always been your friend?
Ain’t I been a pardner to you? All my pennies don’t I spend
In gettin’ nice things for you? Don’t I give you lots of cake?
Say, stummick, what’s the matter, that you had to go an’ ache?
Why, I loaded you with good things; yesterday I gave you more
Potatoes, squash, an’ turkey than you’d ever had before.
I gave you nuts an’ candy, pumpkin pie an’ chocolate cake,
An’ las’ night when I got to bed you had to go an’ ache.
Say, what’s the matter with you-ain’t you satisfied at all?
I gave you all you wanted, you was hard jes’ like a ball,
An’ you couldn’t hold another bit of puddin’, yet las’ night
You ached mos’ awful, stummick; that ain’t treatin’ me jes’ right.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Binker
Binker—what I call him—is a secret of my own,
And Binker is the reason why I never feel alone.
Playing in the nursery, sitting on the stair,
Whatever I am busy at, Binker will be there.
Oh, Daddy is clever, he’s a clever sort of man,
And Mummy is the best since the world began
And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan
But they can’t See Binker.
Binker’s always talking, ‘cos I’m teaching him to speak;
He sometimes likes to do it in a funny sort of squeak,
And he sometimes like to do it in a hoodling sort of roar …
And I have to do it for him ‘cos his throat is rather sore.
Oh, Daddy is clever, he’s a clever sort of man,
And Mummy knows all that anybody can,
And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan
But they don’t Know Binker.
Binker’s brave as lions when we’re running in the park;
Binker’s brave as tigers when we’re lying in the dark;
Binker’s brave as elephants. He never, never cries …
Except (like other people) when the soap gets in his eyes.
Oh, Daddy is Daddy, he’s a Daddy sort of man,
And Mummy is as Mummy as anybody can,
And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan …
But they’re not Like Binker.
Binker isn’t greedy, but he does like things to eat,
So I have to say to people when they’re giving me a sweet,
Oh, Binker wants a chocolate, so could you give me two?
And then I eat it for him, ‘cos his teeth are rather new.
Well, I’m very fond of Daddy, but he hasn’t time to play,
And I’m very fond of Mummy, but she sometimes goes away,
And I’m often cross with Nanny when she wants to brush my hair …
But Binker’s always Binker, and is certain to be there.
—A. A. Milne
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Brighten the Corner Where You Are
We cannot all be
famous or listed in Who’s Who
But every person great or small
has important work to do,
For seldom do we realize
the importance of small deeds,
Or to what degree of greatness
unnoticed kindness leads—
For it’s not the big celebrity
in a world of fame and praise,
But it’s doing unpretentiously
in undistinguished ways,
The work that God assigned for us,
Unimportant as it seems,
That makes our task outstanding
and brings reality to dreams—
So do not sit and idly wish
for wider newer dimensions,
Where you can put in practice
your many good intentions—
But at the spot God placed you
begin at once to do
Little things to brighten up
the lives surrounding you,
For if everybody brightened up
the spot on which they’re standing.
By being more considerate
and a little less demanding,
This dark cold world could very soon
eclipse the Evening Star
If everybody brightened up
the corner where they are.
—Helen Steiner Rice
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Circus Parade
One day we took our lunches,
And all went driving down
To see the big procession
Parading through the town.
The people lined the pavements;
Along the curb they sat:
Some woman with a parasol
Knocked off Eliza’s hat.
The boys climbed up the lampposts,
And up the awnings too;
They shouted and they whistled
To everyone they knew.
The people were so noisy,
All talking in the street,
I thought I heard the music,
And heard the big drums beat.
Some boy cried out, “It’s coming.”
I pushed with all the rest.
It only was a wagon—
“Salvation oil’s the best.”
Tommy began to whimper—It
was so hot that day;
Till all, upon a sudden,
Began to look one way,
And down the street came something—All
big and gray and slow—
The elephants and camels
At last it was THE SHOW.
The banners waved and glittered:
Then came the riders gay;
The elephants all swung their trunks,
The band began to play.
And on a golden chariot,
Far, far up, all alone,
There sat a lovely lady
Upon a gilded throne.
Then came the spotted ponies;
They trotted brisk and small,
And one a clown was leading
The littlest of all.
Next was a cage of lions,
And dressed in spangles bright,
There sat a man among them:
Indeed it was a sight!
Another band; and wagons
Still rumbling, rumbling passed,
And then a crowd of little boys,
And then—that was the last.
That night when all were sleeping,
And everything was still,
I heard a circus wagon
Come jolting up the hill.
Another and another
Went rumbling through the night,
And then two elephants passed by,
Close covered out of sight.
When all had passed the tollgate
I jumped back into bed,
But all that night the sound of wheels
Kept rumbling through my head.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Katharine Pyle
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Daddy’s Reward
I was trying to read the paper,
Reclined on my easy chair,
But my mischievous little five-year-old
Was driving me to despair.
He pulled my ears, and tickled my feet,
And peeked at me with a smile
“Daddy, will you get down on the floor
And play with me for awhile?”
Reluctantly I agreed to play,
And put aside my paper;
Then assumed the form of sway-backed nag,
Who gaily began to caper.
He rode me around the coffee table
A hundred times I think;
Then into his room to get his guns,
To the kitchen for a drink.
Finally I collapsed on the floor
In front of the TV set,
Hoping that we could rest for awhile—But
he wasn’t through with me yet.
He tugged my belt, and he pulled my hair,
And laughed at my every groan.
Then bounced on me like a trampoline
And rattled my every bone.
I truly think that my life was spared
When his mommy spoke up and said,
“Put away your toys and kiss your daddy.
It’s time now to go to bed.”
But quickly soothed were my weary bones,
And my heart was filled with joy;
He said, “Goodnight. I love you, Daddy;
You are my favorite toy!”
—George Harris
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
8
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Daffodils
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
Out-did 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
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
9
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Flag Goes By
Hats off!
Along the street there comes
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums,
A dash of color beneath the sky:
Hats off!
The flag is passing by!
Blue and crimson and white it shines,
Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines.
Hats off!
The colors before us fly;
But more than the flag is passing by.
Sea fights and land fights, grim and great,
Fought to make and to save the State;
Weary marches and sinking ships
Cheers of victory on dying lips;
Days of plenty and years of peace;
March of a strong land’s swift increase;
Equal justice, right and law,
Stately honor and reverend awe:
Sign of a nation, great and strong
To ward her people from foreign wrong:
Pride and glory and honor-all
Live in the colors to stand or fall.
Hats off!
Along the street there comes
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums;
And loyal hearts are beating high:
Hats off!
The flag is passing by!
—Henry H. Bennett
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
10
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Harriet Tubman
Harriet Tubman didn’t take no stuff
Wasn’t scared of nothing neither.
Didn’t come in this world to be no slave
And wasn’t going to stay one either.
“Farewell!” she sang to her friends one night
She was mighty sad to leave ‘em.
But she ran away that dark, hot night
Ran looking for her freedom.
She ran to the woods and she ran through the woods.
With the slave catchers right behind her.
And she kept on going until she got to the woods
Where those mean men couldn’t find her.
Nineteen times she went back South
To get three hundred others.
She ran for her freedom nineteen times
To save black sisters and brothers.
Harriet Tubman didn’t take no stuff
Wasn’t scared of nothing neither.
Didn’t come in this world to be no slave
And didn’t stay one either.
And didn’t stay one either.
—Eloise Greenfield
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
11
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
If I Were a Pilgrim Child
If I were a Pilgrim child,
Dressed in white or gray,
I should catch my turkey wild
For Thanksgiving Day.
I should pick my cranberries
Fresh from out a bog,
And make a table of a stump
And sit upon a log.
An Indian would be my guest
And wear a crimson feather,
And we should clasp our hands and say
Thanksgiving grace together.
But I was born in modern times
And shall not have this joy.
My cranberries will be delivered
By the grocery boy.
My turkey will be served upon
A shining silver platter.
It will not taste as wild game tastes
Though it will be much fatter;
And, oh, of all the guests that come
Not one of them will wear
Moccasins upon his feet
Or feathers in his hair!
—Rowena Bennett
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
12
13
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The King’s Breakfast
The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
“Could we have some butter
for
The Royal slice of bread?”
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid,
The Dairymaid
Said, “Certainly,
I’ll go and tell
The cow
Now
Before she goes to bed.”
The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told
The Alderney:
“Don’t forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread.”
The Alderney
Said sleepily:
“You’d better tell
His Magesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead.”
The Dairymaid
Said, “Fancy!”
And went to
Her Majesty.
She curtsied to the Queen,
and
She turned a little red:
“Excuse me,
Your majesty
For taking of
The liberty,
But Mamalade is tasty, if
It’s very
Thickly
Spread.”
The Queen said
“Oh!” And went to His
Majesty:
“Talking of the butter for
The Royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?”
The King said,
”Bother!”
And then he said,
“Oh, deary me!”
The King sobbed, “Oh, deary
me!”
And went back to bed.
”Nobody,”
He whimpered,
“Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!”
The Queen said,
“There, there!”
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said ”There, There!”
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
“There, there!”
I didn’t really
Mean it;
Here’s milk for his porringer
And butter for his bread.”
The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
“Butter, eh?”
And bounced out of bed.
“Nobody,” he said,
As he slid down
The banisters,
“Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man—
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter
for my bread!”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—A. A. Milne
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Little Boy Blue
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and staunch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.
“Now, don’t you go till I come,” he said
“And don’t you make any noise!”
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamed of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true.
Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.
—Eugene Field
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
14
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Mary
When Jesus was a boy did he
Swing on the gates of Galilee,
Bring home foundling pups and kittens,
Scuff his sandals, lose his mittens,
Weight his pockets with a treasure
Adult eyes can never measure,
Scratch his hands and stub his toes
On rocky hills where cactus grows,
Set stones and quills and bits of thread
On the windowsill beside his bed
So that on waking he could see
All yesterday’s bright prophecy?
Did he play tag with the boys next door,
Tease for sweets in the grocery store,
Whittle and smooth a spinning top
In his father’s carpenter shop,
Run like wind to sail his kite,
Smile and sigh in his sleep at night,
Laugh with you in long-lost springs
About a thousand small, endearing things?
Is he the one that said that you
Should always dye your dresses blue?
With eyes bright as cinnamon silk,
Red lips ringed with a mist of milk
Did he ... lifting his earthen cup
Say: “Just wait until I grow up”?
—Mary O’Neill
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
15
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Mr. Nobody
I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody’s house!
There’s no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody.
‘Tis he who always tears our books,
Who leaves the door ajar,
He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
And scatters pins afar;
That squeaking door will always squeak,
For, prithee, don’t you see,
We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody.
The finger marks upon the door
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed,
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill; the boots
That lying round you see
Are not our boots—they all belong
To Mr. Nobody.
—Author Unknown
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
16
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
My Heart’s in the Highlands
My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, Farewell to the North,
The birthplace of valour, the country of worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands forever I love.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
—Robert Burns
Straths is a Scottish word meaning "low grasslands along a river valley."
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
17
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
My Shadow
I have a little shadow that goes in and out
with me,
And what can be the use of him is more
than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels
up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I
jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way
he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is
always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an
India-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that
there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children
ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every
sort of way.
He stays so close behind me, he’s a
coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that
shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun
was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on
every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant
sleepyhead,
Had stayed at home behind me and was
fast asleep in bed.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
18
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
My Wise Old Grandpapa
When I was but a little chap
My Grandpapa said to me,
“You’ll need to know your manners, son,
When you go out to tea.
“Remove the shells from hard-boiled eggs,
Make sure your hat’s on straight,
Pour lots of honey on your peas
To keep them on the plate.
“Blow daintily upon your tea
To cool it to your taste,
And always pick bones thoroughly,
With due regard for waste.
“Be heedful of your partners’ needs,
Attend their every wish;
When passing jelly, cream or jam,
Make sure they’re in the dish.
“When eating figs or coconuts,
To show you are refined,
Gently gnaw the centers out
And throw away the rind.
“If you should accidentally gulp
Some coffee while it’s hot,
Just raise the lid politely and
Replace it in the pot.”
—Wilbur G. Howcroft
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
One Winter Night in August
One winter night in August
While the larks sang in their eggs,
A barefoot boy with shoes on
Stood kneeling on his legs.
Just then a pack of dogfish
Who roam the desert snows
Arrived by unicycle
And shook the policeman’s toes.
At ninety miles an hour
He slowly strolled to town
And parked atop a tower
That had just fallen down.
They cried, “Congratulations,
Old dear! Surprise, surprise!
You raced the worst, so you came in first
And you didn’t win any prize!”
He asked a kind old policeman
Who bit small boys in half,
“Officer, have you seen my pet
Invisible giraffe?”
Then turning to the boyfoot bear,
They yelled, “He’s overheard
What we didn’t say to the officer!
(We never said one word!)
“Why, sure, I haven’t seen him.”
The cop smiled with a sneer.
“He was just here tomorrow
And he rushed right back next year.”
“Too bad, boy, we must turn you
Into a loathsome toad!
Now shut your ears and listen,
We’re going to explode!”
“Now, boy, come be arrested
For stealing frozen steam!”
And whipping out his pistol,
He carved some hot ice cream.
But then, with an awful holler
That didn’t make a peep,
Our ancient boy (age seven)
Woke up and went to sleep.
—X. J. Kennedy
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
21
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
One, Two, Three
It was an old, old, old lady
And a boy that was half-past three;
And the way that they played together
Was beautiful to see.
“You are in the china closet,”
He would cry and laugh with glee
It wasn’t the china closet,
But he still had Two, and Three.
She couldn’t go running and jumping,
And the boy, no more could he,
For he was a thin little fellow,
With a thin little twisted knee.
“You are up in papa’s big bedroom,
In the chest with the queer old key,”
And she said; “You are warm and warmer
But you’re not quite right,” said she.
They sat in the yellow sunlight
Out under the maple trees,
And the game that they played I’ll tell you
Just as it was told to me.
“It can’t be the little cupboard
Where mama’s things used to be;
So it must be the clothes press, Grandma.”
And he found her with his Three.
It was hide-and-go-seek they were playing,
Though you’d never had known it to be
With an old, old, old lady,
And a boy with a twisted knee.
Then she covered her face with her fingers,
That were wrinkled and white and wee
And she guessed where the boy was hiding,
With a One and a Two and a Three.
The boy would bend his face down
On his one little sound right knee,
And he’d guess where she was hiding,
In guesses One, Two, Three.
And they never had stirred from their places,
Out under the maple tree
This old, old, old, old lady
And the boy with the lame little knee
This dear, dear, dear old lady
And the boy who was half-past three.
—Harry C. Bunner
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Prayer of Cyrus Brown
“The proper way for a man to pray,”
Said Deacon Lemuel Keyes,
“And the only proper attitude
Is down upon his knees.”
“Nay, I should say the way to pray,”
Said Reverend Doctor Wise
“Is standing straight with outstretched arms
And rapt and upturned eyes.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” said Elder Snow,
“Such posture is too proud.
A man should pray with eyes fast closed
And head contritely bowed.”
“It seems to me his hands should be
Austerely clasped in front.
With both thumbs pointing toward the ground,”
Said Reverend Doctor Blunt.
“Las’ year I fell in Hodgkin’s well
Head first,” said Cyrus Brown, “With both my heels a-stickin’ up,
My head a-p’inting down,”
“An’ I make a prayer right then an’ there—
Best prayer I ever said,
The prayingest prayer I ever prayed,
A-standing on my head.”
—Sam Walter Foss
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
22
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Relatives
Relatives are people who
Bring little presents in to you.
They’re more like friends who come to call,
Except you’ve got to learn them all
An’ know their names, so you won’t miss
When mother asks you: “Now, who’s this?”
I’ve got two grandmas, an’ I know
Them both becoz they love me so.
I know my grandpas, when they come
They bring me chocolate bars and gum.
You see how well I’m getting on
I also know my Uncle John.
Although I’m only half-past three,
My daddy says, it’s good for me
To know so much. I never miss
The right name when they say: “Who’s this?”
It would be awful not to know
Your Aunt Irene and Auntie Flo.
It isn’t often I forget.
I don’t know all my cousins yet
Or what a cousin is at all,
But daddy says when you are small
It proves that you are very smart
If you know half your folks by heart.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
23
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Secret of Happiness
Everybody, everywhere, seeks happiness
—it’s true
But finding it and keeping it
seems difficult to do,
Difficult because we think
that happiness is found
Only in the places where
wealth and fame abound,
And so we go on searching
in “palaces of pleasure”
Seeking recognition
and monetary treasure,
Unaware that happiness
is just a state of mind
Within the reach of everyone
who takes time to be kind—
For in making others happy,
we will be happy, too,
For the happiness you give away
returns to shine on you.
—Helen Steiner Rice
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
24
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
A Smile
A smile costs nothing but gives much—
It takes but a moment, but the memory of
it usually lasts forever.
None are so rich that can get along
without it—
And none are so poor but that can be
made rich by it.
It enriches those who receive
Without making poor those who give—
It creates sunshine in the home,
Fosters good will in business
And is the best antidote for trouble—
And yet it cannot be begged, borrowed or
stolen, for it is of no value
Unless it is freely given away.
Some people are too busy to give you a smile—
Give them one of yours—
For the good Lord knows, that no one
needs a smile so badly
As he or she who has no more smiles left to give.
—Author Unknown
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
25
26
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Sneezles
Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
They examined his chest
For a rash,
And the rest
Of his body for swelling and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.
All sorts and conditions
Of famous physicians
Came hurrying round
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat,
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, “If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle
May easily grow.
But humor or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go.
They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said, “If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
The PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue.”
Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning,
The sneezles had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
“Now, how to amuse them today?”
—A. A. Milne
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
27
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Somebody’s Mother
The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the winter’s day.
He paused beside her and whispered low,
“I’ll help you cross, if you wish to go.”
The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman’s feet were aged and slow.
Her aged hand on his strong arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
She stood at the crossing and waited long
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of “school let out,”
“She’s somebody’s mother, boys, you know,
For all she’s aged and poor and slow,
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
“And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother you understand,
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.
“If ever she’s poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away.”
Nor offered a helping hand to her—
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
And “somebody’s mother” bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses’s feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
Was “God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody’s son, and pride and joy!”
At last came the merry troop,
The happiest laddie of all the group;
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Mary Dow Brine
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
—Robert Frost
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
28
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Sugar-Plum Tree
Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
‘Tis a marvel of great renown!
It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
(As those who have tasted it say)
That good little children have only to eat
Of that fruit to be happy next day.
When you’ve got to the tree, you would have a hard time
To capture the fruit which I sing;
The tree is so tall that no person could climb
To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
And a gingerbread dog prowls below—
And this is the way you contrive to get at
Those sugar-plums tempting you so:
You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
And he barks with such terrible zest
That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,
As her swelling proportions attest.
And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around
From this leafy limb unto that,
And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground—
Hurrah for that chocolate cat!
There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
With stripings of scarlet or gold,
And you carry away of the treasure that rains
As much as your apron can hold!
So come, little child, cuddle closer to me
In your dainty white nightcap and gown,
And I’ll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.
—Eugene Field
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
29
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Trees
To me trees are the loveliest things,
Their friendly arms always outspread;
Sometimes in them I see bright wings,
A nest, and then a young bird’s head.
I love the trees when morning dew
Like prisms hang, or diamonds rare;
I love them in the noontide too;
They shield me from the sun’s warm glare.
I love them in the autumn when
They deck themselves in gay attire;
They flaunt their colors proudly then,
And blaze as with a living fire.
I love them when the breezes blow
The dancing, trembling, painted leaves;
I love them when the fleecy snow
Among their branches magic weaves.
When in the mellow moonlight glow,
As sentinels I see them stand,
I hear their voices soft and low;
They tell me tales of fairyland.
—Grace Oakes Burton
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
30
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Umbrella Brigade
“Pitter patter!” falls the rain
On the schoolroom window pane.
Such a splashing! such a dashing!
Will it e’er be dry again?
Down the gutter rolls a flood,
And the crossing’s deep in mud;
And the puddles! oh, the puddles
Are a sight to stir one’s blood!
But let it rain
Tree-toads and frogs
Muskets and pitchforks
Kittens and dogs!
Dash away! splash away!
Who is afraid?
Here we go,
The umbrella brigade!
Pull the boots up the knee!
Tie the hoods on merrily!
Such a hustling! such a jostling!
Out of breath with fun are we,
Clatter, clatter down the street,
Greeting everyone we meet,
With our laughing and our chaffing
Which the laughing drops repeat.
Pitter patter! pitter patter!
Pitter patter! pitter patter!
—Laura Richards
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Us Two
Wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,
There’s always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do.
“Where are you going today?” says Pooh:
“Well, that’s very odd ‘cos I was too.
Let’s go together,” says Pooh, says he.
“Let’s go together,” says Pooh.
“What’s twice eleven?” I said to Pooh.
(“Twice what?” said Pooh to Me.)
“I think it ought to be twenty-two.”
“Just what I think myself,” said Pooh,
“It wasn’t an easy sum to do,
But that’s what it is,” said Pooh, said he.
“That’s what it is,” said Pooh.
“Let’s look for dragons,” I said to Pooh.
“Yes, let’s,” said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few—
“Yes, those are dragons all right,” said
Pooh.
“As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That’s what they are,” said Pooh, said he.
“That’s what they are,” said Pooh.
“Let’s frighten the dragons,” I said to Pooh.
“That’s right,” said Pooh to Me.
“I’m not afraid,” I said to Pooh.
And I held his paw and I shouted “Shoo!
Silly old dragons!—and off they flew. ”
I wasn’t afraid,” said Pooh, said he
“I’m never afraid with you.”
So wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,
There’s always Pooh and Me.
“What would I do?” I said to Pooh,
“If it wasn’t for you,” and Pooh said: “True,
It isn’t much fun for One, but Two
Can stick together,” says Pooh, says he.
“That’s how it is,” says Pooh.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—A. A. Milne
Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Violet
Down in a green and shady bed,
A modest violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view.
And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its color bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.
Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tint arrayed;
And there diffused a sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade.
Then let me to the valley go
This pretty flower to see;
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
—Jane Taylor
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
When Grandpa Was a Boy (Recitation for a Boy)
So many things were different
When Grandpa was a boy.
He never saw a movie
And he seldom had a toy.
He never soared aloft in planes;
No radio had he;
An auto was unusual,
A downright novelty.
He walked three miles to school each day,
And wrote upon a slate.
And lots of things I daily eat,
Young Grandpa never ate.
Yet he is always telling me
About the “good old days,”
And how he’d not exchange his youth
For all our modern ways.
He’s sure he fished with greater luck
Along his special streams;
And hazelnuts were bigger
In Grandpa’s day, it seems.
I wonder, when I’m Grandpa’s age,
If I will then enjoy
The thought that things were better,
When I was just a boy.
—Dorothy Walters
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Wind
Why does the wind so want to be
Here in my little room with me?
He’s all the world to blow about,
But just because I keep him out
He cannot be a moment still,
But frets upon my window-sill.
And sometimes brings a noisy rain
To help him batter at the pane.
He rattles, rattles at the lock
And lifts the latch and stirs the key—
Then waits a moment breathlessly,
And soon, more fiercely than before,
He shakes my little trembling door,
And though “Come in, Come in!” I say,
He neither comes nor goes away.
Barefoot across the chilly floor
I run and open wide the door;
He rushes in and back again
He goes to batter door and pane,
Pleased to have blown my candle out.
He’s all the world to blow about,
Why does he want so much to be
Here in my little room with me?
—E. Rendall
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
A Windy Day
Have you been at sea on a windy day
When the water’s blue
And the sky is too,
And showers of spray
Come sweeping the decks
And the sea is dotted
With little flecks
Of foam, like daisies gay;
When there’s salt on your lips,
In your eyes and hair,
And you watch other ships
Go riding there?
Sailors are happy,
And birds fly low
To see how close they can safely go
To the waves as they heave and roll.
Then wheeling, they soar
Mounting up to the sky,
Where billowy clouds
Go floating by!
Oh, there’s fun for you
And there’s fun for me
At sea
On a windy day!
—Winifred Howard
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Winter Fun
Over the hills we go coasting down,
Then across the lake like a mirror round;
On the smooth white slope we start, from above,
Then down we go as swift as a dove.
Out in the yard right by our gate
The big, white snowman we like to make.
We shape it with snow, white and clean;
With fir moss for a beard
It’s just the thing.
A carrot for a nose and apples for eyes,
It makes him look so very wise.
Down on the pond there is everyone
Skating together; oh, what fun!
A figure eight, a tug of war,
There’s a bonfire blazing on the shore.
We’ll warm our hands before we run;
There’s hot chocolate waiting for everyone.
We’ll sing together for good cheer;
It’s the merriest, happiest time of the year.
—Edna Jaques
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Student Activities 4th Grade Poetry Handbook
Your Neighbor
Do you know the neighbor that lives in your block;
Do you ever take time for a bit of a talk?
Do you know his troubles, his heartaches, his cares,
The battles he’s fighting, the burdens he bears?
Do you greet him with joy or pass him right by
With a questioning look and a quizzical eye?
Do you bid him “Good morning” and say “How do you do,”
Or shrug up as if he was nothing to you?
He may be a chap with a mighty big heart,
And a welcome that grips, if you just do your part.
And I know you’ll coax out his sunniest smile,
If you’ll stop with this neighbor and visit awhile.
We rush on so fast in these strenuous days,
We’re apt to find fault when it’s better to praise.
We judge a man’s worth by the make of his car;
We’re anxious to find what his politics are.
But somehow it seldom gets under the hide,
The fact that the fellow we’re living beside
Is a fellow like us, with a hankering, too,
For a grip of the hand and a “How do you do!”
With a heart that responds in a welcome sincere
If you’ll just stop to fling him a message of cheer,
And I know you’ll coax out his sunniest smile,
If you’ll stop with this neighbor and visit awhile.
—E. Howard Biggar
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38
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
5TH GRADE POETRY
Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
My Kingdom 23
All Things Beautiful 4
October 24
The American Flag 5
Only a Little Thing 25
Arithmetic 6
Partridge Time 26
Brighten the Corner Where You Are 7
The Pearl 27
Christ and the Little Ones 8
Pilgrim Song—Then and Now 28
The Concord Hymn 9
The Potter 29
The Doctor 10
The Pup 30
Drop a Pebble in the Water 11
The Red Sea 31
Fear 12
The Road Not Taken 32
The First Snow 13
The Rough Little Rascal 33
Fred 14
Thy Will Be Done 34
The Gingercake Man 15
Too Many Daves 35
Grandpapa’s Spectacles 16
The Touch of the Master’s Hand 36
I Know Something Good About You 17
Up to the Ceiling 37
If Jesus Came to Your House 18
What Christ Said 38
In the Carpenter Shop 19
Who Knows a Mountain? 39
It Couldn’t Be Done 20
The World We Make 40
Johnny Appleseed 21
The World’s Bible 41
The Joy of a Dog 22
Please note: These are not required poems, but examples of
acceptable material. Comparable pieces may be chosen from
other sources if approved by school coordinator.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
All Things Beautiful
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings—
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.
The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them, high or lowly,
And order’d their estate.
The purple-headed mountain,
The river running by,
The morning, and the sunset
That lightest up the sky.
The cold wind in the winter
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden—
He made them every one.
The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water
We gather every day;
He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
Who hath made all things well.
—Cecil Frances Alexander
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The American Flag
There’s a flag that floats above us,
Wrought in red and white and blue—
A spangled flag of stars and stripes
Protecting me and you.
Sacrifices helped to make it
As men fought the long months through,
Nights of marching—days of fighting—
For the red and white and blue.
There is beauty in that emblem,
There is courage in it, too;
There is loyalty—there’s valor—
In the red and white and blue.
In that flag which floats, unconquered
Over land and sea,
There’s equality and freedom—
There is true democracy.
There is glory in that emblem,
Wrought in red and white and blue.
It’s the stars and stripes forever
Guarding me and guarding you!
—Louise Adney
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Arithmetic
Arithmetic is where numbers fly like
pigeons in and out of your head.
Arithmetic tells you how many you lose or
win if you know how many you had before
you lost or won.
Arithmetic is seven-eleven all good children
go to heaven—or five-six bundle of sticks.
Arithmetic is numbers that you squeeze from your
head to your hand to your pencil to your
paper till you get the answer.
Arithmetic is where the answer is right and
everything is nice and you can look out
of the window and see the blue sky—
or the answer is wrong and you have to start
all over and try again and see how it
comes out this time.
If you take a number and double it
and double it again and then double it a
few more times the number gets bigger
and bigger and goes higher and higher
and only arithmetic can tell you what
the number is when you decide to quit
doubling.
Arithmetic is where you have to multiply—
and you carry the multiplication table
in your head and hope you won’t lose it.
If you have two animal crackers, one good
and one bad, and you eat one and a
striped zebra with streaks all over him
eats the other, how many animal crackers
will you have if somebody offers you five
six seven and you say No no no and you say
nay nay nay and you say nix nix nix.
If you ask your mother for one fried egg for
breakfast and she gives you two
fried eggs and you eat both of them, who is
better in arithmetic, you or your mother?
—Carl Sandburg
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Brighten the Corner Where You Are
We cannot all be famous
Or listed in “Who’s Who,”
But every person great or small
has important work to do,
For seldom do we realize
The importance of small deeds,
Or to what degree of greatness
unnoticed kindness leads—
For it’s not the big celebrity
in a world of fame and praise.
But it’s doing unpretentiously
in undistinguished ways,
The work that God assigned for us,
unimportant as it seems,
That makes our task outstanding
and bring reality to dreams—
So do not sit and idly wish
for wider, newr dimension,
Where you can put in practice
Your many good intentions—
But at the spot God placed you
begin at once to do
Little things to brighten up
the lives surrounding you,
For if everybody brightened up
the spot on which they’re standing,
By being more considerate
And a little less demanding,
This dark cold world would very soon
eclipse the Evening Star,
If everybody brightened up
the corner where they are.
—Helen Steiner Rice
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Christ and the Little Ones
“The Master has come over Jordan”
Said Hannah the Mother one day
“He is healing the people who throng Him,
With a touch of His finger,” they say,
So over the hills of Judah,
Along the vine-rows green,
With Esther asleep on her bosom,
And Rachel, her brothers between,
“And now I will carry the children,
Little Rachel and Samuel and John,
I shall carry the baby Esther,
For the Lord to look upon.”
‘Mid the people who hung on His teaching,
Or waited His touch or His word—
Through the rows of proud Pharisees listening
She pressed to the feet of the Lord.
The father looked at her kindly,
But he shook his head and smiled;
“Now who but a doting mother
Would think of a thing so wild?
“Now why shouldst thou hinder the Master,”
Said Peter, “With children like these?
Seest now how from morning to evening
He teacheth and healeth disease?”
If the children were tortured by demons,
Or dying of fever, ‘twere well;
Or had they the taint of the leper
Like many in Israel.”
Then Christ said, “Forbid not the children,
Permit them to come unto me!”
And he took in His arms little Esther
And Rachel He set on His knee.
“Nay, do not hinder me, Nathan,
I feel such a burden of care,
If I carry it to the Master,
Perhaps I shall leave it there.
And the heavy heart of the mother
Was lifted all earth-care above,
As He laid His hands on the brothers
And blest them with tenderest love;
If he laid his hand on the children,
My heart will be lighter, I know,
For a blessing for ever and ever
Will follow them as they go.”
As He said of the babes in His bosom,
“Of such is the kingdom of heaven—
And strength for all duty and trial,
That hour to her spirit was given.
—Julia Gill
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Concord Hymn
By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled.
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set today a votive stone,
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Doctor
I don’t see why Pa likes him so,
And seems so glad to have him come;
He jabs my ribs and wants to know
If here and there it’s hurting some.
He holds my wrist, ‘coz there are things
In there, which always jump and jerk,
Then, with a telephone he brings,
He listens to my breather work.
He taps my back and pinches me,
Then hangs a mirror on his head
And looks into my throat to see
What makes it hurt and if it’s red.
Then on his knee he starts to write
And says to mother, with a smile:
“This ought to fix him up all right,
We’ll cure him in a little while.”
I don’t see why Pa likes him so.
Whenever I don’t want to play
He says: “The boy is sick, I know!
Let’s get the doctor right away.”
And when he comes, he shakes his hand,
And hustles him upstairs to me,
And seems contented just to stand
Inside the room where he can see.
Then Pa says every time he goes:
“That’s money I am glad to pay;
It’s worth it, when a fellow knows
His pal will soon be up to play.”
But maybe if my Pa were me,
And had to take his pills and all,
He wouldn’t be so glad to see
The doctor come to make a call.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Drop a Pebble in the Water
Drop a pebble in the water: just a splash, and it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center, flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling where the end is going to be.
Drop a pebble in the water: in a minute you forget,
But there’s little waves a-flowing and there’s ripples circling yet,
And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;
You’ve disturbed a mighty riverjust by dropping in a stone.
Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on.
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them, once you’ve started them to flow.
Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute you forget;
But there’s little waves a-flowing, and there’s ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart a mighty wave of tears you’ve stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy ‘ere you dropped that unkind word.
Drop a word of cheer and kindness: just a flash and it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Bearing hope and joy and comfort on each splashing, dashing wave
Till you wouldn’t believe the volume of the one kind word you gave.
Drop a word of cheer and kindness: in a minute you forget;
But there’s gladness still a-swelling, and there’s joy a-circling yet,
And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water just by dropping one kind word.
—James W. Foley
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Fear
How strange that we who are the sons of God
Should be familiar with the face of fear,
So sure that every cloud will bring a storm,
So fearful lest tomorrow be not clear.
We shrink from woes which never come to pass,
Mere phantoms, with no substance and no strength;
But even if they had, would not our Lord provide
His strength to meet the need of each day’s length?
Children of God, with quaking, craven hearts
Consumed by the corrosive power of dread!...
And yet He holds us in His hallowed hand,
And counts the very hairs upon our head.
What strong firm bulwarks He has built around
The daily lives of those He holds so dear:
The blessed Holy Spirit in our hearts,
His guardian angels ever hovering near
Lest we should dash our feet against a stone.
The unseen hosts of God camp round about.
We dwell there safely in His secret place,
And still we tremble, wracked with fear and doubt!
O child of God, it is so safe, so sweet,
To trust the One who never knew defeat!
—Martha Snell Nicholson
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The First Snow
We waited for hours,
As children all will,
After Father had told us
The news with a thrill:
‘Twas the oddest sensation
When we’d gaze at the sky;
We seemed to be falling,
But we didn’t know why.
Next morning the light
Reflected from snow
Made shimmering patterns
With walls all aglow;
From lowering clouds
And a temperature fall,
The first snow of winter
Would come with a squall.
Then early that evening
The first flakes descended;
And when we retired
The fall hadn’t ended
We looked from our beds
At a white, silent scene
Of tall, pearly trees
And the buildings between.
And our happy, old dog,
With great barking leaps,
Was chasing a rabbit
Through high, snowy heaps.
Oh, the wonderful joy
To be young and know
The thrill of a child
At winter’s first snow.
—Robert Freeman Bound
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Fred
Fred likes creatures,
And has a lot of ‘em.
Bees don’t sting him,.
He’s got a pot of ‘em,
Little round velvety bodies they are
Making honey in Fred’s jam-jar.
Fred likes creatures.
Hedgehogs don’t prickle him,
They flatten their quills
And scarcely tickle him,
But lie with their pointed snouts on his palm,
And their beady eyes are perfectly calm.
Fred likes creatures.
The nestling fallen out
Of the tree-top
With magpie callin’ out
Where? Where? Where? contented lingers
In the round nest of Fred’s thick fingers.
Fred likes creatures.
Nothing’s queer to him,
Ferrets, tortoises,
Newts are dear to him.
The lost wild rabbit comes to his hand
As to a burrow in friendly land.
Fred eats rabbit
Like any glutton, too,
Fred eats chicken
And beef and mutton too.
Moral? None. No more to be said
Than Fred likes creatures,
and creatures like Fred.
—Eleanor Farjeon
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Gingercake Man
The gingercake man was a lump of brown dough
Till a great rolling pin was run over him, so!
To flatten him out, and he lay there so thin,
His bones almost popped through the holes in his skin:
They sifted him over with flour and spice,
And made him some eyes with two kernels of rice,
And took some dried currants, the biggest and best,
To make him some buttons for closing his vest.
The Gingercake man wobbled this way and that.
When they seeded a raisin and make him a hat
That was stuck on his head in the jauntiest way.
For a Gingercake man is not made every day.
They stuck in some cloves for hisears yes, indeed!
And made him some teeth out of caraway seed,
And when he had finished they buttered a pan—
The biggest they had—for the Gingercake man.
Then into the oven they put him to bake
Until he was hard and could stand and not break
His legs when he stood; and they set him to cool
Until all the children should come home from school.
And oh, the delight and the wonder and glee.
When mother invited the children to see,
All sifted with sugar and out of the pan,
The good-natured face of the Gingercake man.
But alas and alas! ‘Tis a short life and sweet
Is the Gingercake man’s-for they ate off his feet,
They broke off his arms with the hungriest zest,
And picked all the buttons from out of his vest;
They nibbled his legs off and ate up his hat.
And everything edible went just like that,
Till the cloves and the kernels of rice you may scan
As all that is left of the Gingercake man!
—James Foley
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Grandpapa’s Spectacles
Grandpapa’s spectacles cannot be found;
He has searched all the rooms, high and low, ‘round and ‘round;
Now he calls to the young ones, and what does he say?
“Ten cents for the child who will find them today.”
Then Henry and Nelly and Edward all ran,
And a most thorough hunt for the glasses began,
And dear little Nell, in her generous way,
Said: “I’ll look for them, Grandpa, without any pay.”
All through the big Bible she searches with care
That lies on the table by Grandpapa’s chair.
They feel in his pockets, they peep in his hat,
They pull out the sofa, they shake out the mat.
Then down on all fours, like two good natured bears,
Go Henry and Ed under tables and chairs,
‘Til, quite out of breath, Ed is heard to declare
He believes that those glasses are not anywhere.
But Nelly, who, leaning on Grandpapa’s knee,
Was thinking most earnestly where they could be,
Looked suddenly up in the kind, faded eyes,
And her own shining brown ones grew big with surprise.
She clapped both her hands—all her dimples came out—
She turned to the boys with a bright roguish shout:
“You may leave off your looking, both Henry and Ed,
For there are the glasses on Grandpapa’s head!”
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
I Know Something Good About You
Wouldn’t this world be better
If the folks we meet would say—
“I know something good about you!”
And treat us just that way?
Wouldn’t it be fine and dandy
If each handclasp, fond and true,
Carried with it this assurance”—
“I know something good about you!”
Wouldn’t life be lots more happy
If the good that’s in us all
Were the only thing about us
That folks bothered to recall?
Wouldn’t life be lots more happy
If we praised the good we see?
For there’s such a lot of goodness
In the worst of you and me!
Wouldn’t it be nice to practice
That fine way of thinking, too?
You know something good about me;
I know something good about you.
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
If Jesus Came to Your House
If Jesus came to your house to spend a day or two,
If He came unexpectedly, I wonder what you’d do.
Oh, I know you’d give your nicest room to such an honored Guest,
And all the food you’d serve to Him would be the very best—
And you would keep assuring Him you’re glad to have Him there,
That serving Him in your home is joy beyond compare!
But when you saw Him coming, would you meet Him at the door,
With arms outstretched in welcome to your Heavenly Visitor?
Or would you have to change your clothes before you let Him in,
Or hide some magazines and put the Bible where they’d been?
Would you turn off the radio and hope He hadn’t heard—
And wish you hadn’t uttered that last, loud, hasty word?
Would you hide your worldly music and put some hymn books out?
Could you let Jesus walk right in, or would you rush about?
And I wonder-if the Savior spent a day or two with you—
Would you go right on doing the things you always do?
Would you keep right on saying the things you always say?
Would life for you continue as it does from day to day?
Would your family conversation keep up its usual pace?
And would you find it hard each meal to say a table grace?
Would you sing the songs you always sing and read the books you read,
And let Him know the things on which your mind and spirit feed?
Would you take Jesus with you everywhere you’d planned to go,
Or would you, maybe, change your plans for just a day or so?
Would you be glad to have Him stay forever on and on,
Or would you sigh with great relief when He at last was gone?
It might be interesting to know the things that you would do
If Jesus came in person to spend some time with you.
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
In the Carpenter Shop
I wish I had been His apprentice
To see Him each morning at seven,
As He tossed His gray tunic about Him,
The Master of earth and of heaven;
When He lifted the lid of His work-chest
And opened His carpenter’s kit,
And looked at His chisels and augers,
And took the bright tools out of it;
When He gazed at the rising sun tinting
The dew on the opening flowers,
And He smiled at the thought of His Father
Whose love floods this fair world of ours.
When He fastened the apron about Him,
And put on His workingman’s cap,
And grasped the smooth haft of His hammer
To give the bent woodwork a tap,
Saying, “Lad, let us finish this ox yoke.
The farmer must finish his crop.”
Oh, I wish I had been His apprentice
And worked in the Nazareth shop.
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
It Couldn’t Be Done
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.
Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it”;
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin.
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Johnny Appleseed
Of Jonathan Chapman
Two things are known
That he loved apples,
That he walked alone.
A fine old man,
As ripe as a pippin,
His heart still light,
And his step still skipping.
At seventy-odd
He was gnarled as could be.
But ruddy and sound
As a good apple tree.
The stalking Indian,
The beast in its lair
Did no hurt
While be was there.
For fifty years over
Of harvest and dew,
He planted his apples
Where no apples grew.
For they could tell,
As wild things can
That Jonathan Chapman
Was God’s own man.
The winds of the prairie
Might blow through his rags,
But he carried his seeds
In the best deerskin bags.
Why did he do it?
We do not know.
He wished that apples
Might root and grow.
From old Ashtabula
To frontier Fort Wayne
He planted and pruned
And he planted again.
He has no statue
He has no tomb.
He has his apple trees
Still in bloom.
He had not a hat
To encumber his head.
He wore a tin pan
On his white hair instead.
Consider, consider,
Think well upon
The marvelou story
Of Appleseed John.
He nested with owl,
And with bear cub and ‘possum,
And knew all his orchards,
Root, tendril and blossom.
—Rosemary and Stephen V. Benét
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Joy of a Dog
Ma says no, it’s too much care
An’ it will scatter germs an’ hair,
An’ it’s a nuisance through and through,
An’ barks when you don’t want it to;
An’ carries dirt from off the street,
An’ tracks the carpets with its feet.
But it’s a sign he’s growin’ up
When he is longin’ for a pup.
Most every night he comes to me
An’ climbs a-straddle of my knee
An’ starts to fondle me an’ pet,
Then asks me if I’ve found one yet.
An’ ma says: “Now don’t tell him yes;
You know they make an awful mess,”
An’ starts their faults to catalogue.
But every boy should have a dog.
An’ some night when he comes to me,
Deep in my pocket there will be
The pup he’s hungry to possess
Or else I sadly miss my guess.
For I remember all the joy
A dog meant to a little boy
Who loved it in the long ago—
The joy that’s now his right to know.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
My Kingdom
A little kingdom I possess
Where thoughts and feelings dwell.
And very hard I find the task
Of governing it well;
For passion tempts and troubles me,
A wayward will misleads,
And selfishness its shadow casts
On all my words and deeds.
How can I learn to rule myself,
To be the child I should,
Honest and brave, nor ever tire
Of trying to be good?
How can I keep a sunny soul
To shine along life’s way?
How can I tune my little heart
To sweetly sing all day?
Dear Father, help me with the love
That casteth out my fear,
Teach me to lean on Thee, and feel
That Thou are very near,
That no temptation is unseen,
No childish grief too small,
Since Thou, with patience infinite,
Doth soothe and comfort all.
I do not ask for any crown
But that which all may win,
Nor seek to conquer any world,
Except the one within.
Be Thou my guide until I find,
Led by a tender hand,
Thy happy kingdom in myself,
And dare to take command.
—Louisa M Alcolt
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
October
Days are gettin’ shorter an’ the air a keener snap;
Apples now are droppin’ into Mother Nature’s lap;
The mist at dusk is risin’ over valley, marsh an’ fen
An’ it’s just as plain as sunshine, winter’s comin’ on again.
The turkeys now are struttin’ round the old farmhouse once more;
They are done with all their nestin’, and their hatchin’ days are o’er;
Now the farmer’s cuttin’ fodder for the silo towerin’ high
An’ he’s frettin’ an’ complainin’ ‘cause the corn’s a bit too dry.
But the air is mighty peaceful an’ the scene is good to see,
An’ there’s somethin’ in October that stirs deep inside o’ me;
An’ I just can’t help believin’ in a God above us when
Everything is ripe for harvest an’ the frost is back again.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Only a Little Thing
It was only a tiny seed,
Carelessly brushed aside;
But it grew in time to a noxious weed,
And spread its poison wide.
It was only a little leak,
So small you might hardly see;
But the rising waters found the break,
And wrecked the great levee.
It was only a single spark,
Dropped by a passing train;
But the dead leaves caught, and swift and dark
Was its work on wood and plain.
It was only a thoughtless word,
Scarce meant to be unkind;
But it pierced as a dart to the heart that heard,
And left it sting behind.
It may seem a trifle at most,
The thing that we do or say;
And yet it may be that at fearful cost
We may wish it undone someday.
—M. P. Handy
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Partridge Time
When Pa came home last night he had a package in his hand;
“Now Ma,” said he, “I’ve something here which you will say is grand.
A friend of mine got home today from hunting in the woods,
He’s been away a week or two, and got back with the goods.
He had a corking string of birds-I wish you could have seen ‘em!”
“If you’ve brought any partridge home,” said Ma, “you’ll have to clean ‘em.”
“Now listen, Ma,” said Pa to her, “these birds are mighty rare.
I know a lot of men who’d pay a heap to get a pair.
But it’s against the law to sell this splendid sort of game,
And if you bought ‘em you would have to use a different name.
It isn’t every couple has a pair to eat between ‘em.”
“If you got any partridge there,” says Ma, “you’ll have to clean ‘em.”
“Whenever kings want something fine, it’s partridge that they eat,
and millionaires prefer ‘em, too, to any sort of meat.
About us everywhere tonight are folks who’d think it fine
If on a brace of partridge they could just sit down to dine.
They’ve got a turkey skinned to death; they’re sweeter than a chicken.”
“If that’s what you’ve brought home,” says Ma, “you’ll have to do the pickin’.”
And then Pa took off the paper and showed Ma what he had.
“There, look at those two beauties! Don’t they start you feelin’ glad?”
An’ ain’t your mouth a’waterin’ to think how fine they’ll be
When you’ve cooked ‘em up for dinner, one for you an’ one for me?”
But Ma just turned her nose up high, and said, when she had seen ‘em,
“You’ll never live to eat ‘em if you wait for me to clean ‘em.”
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Pearl
Among the fish that swim and swish beneath the stormy sea
There lived a little oyster, and most melancholy, he!
Inside his clammy cloister, weeping sadly was the oyster.
And this made him even moister than an oyster ought to be!
His brother-fish said “Pooh and pish. He isn’t worth a pin!”
“Poor fish” they often called him with a patronizing grin.
And it has to be admitted that the teasing title fitted,
For the oyster, humble-witted, didn’t own a single “fin!”
In sad distress he would, I guess, have lived his life in vain
If something had not happened, to the oyster’s happy gain:
One morning, something nicked him. Some gritty sand had pricked him!
To wall it up, its victim built a pearl around the pain!
Thus did he do what we can, too, if we but have the wit:
He turned bad luck to good-and yet his shell remained a fit.
He’d say, when he was feted, that his pearl was overrated;
“Shucks!” he often shyly stated; “It just took a little grit!”
—Ernestine Cobern Beyer
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Pilgrim Song—Then and Now
Over the mountain wave
See where they come;
Storm cloud and wintry wind
Welcome them home;
Yet, where the sounding gale
Howls to the sea,
There their song peals along
Deep seated and free
“Pilgrims and wanderers,
Hither we come;
Where the free dare to be—
This is our home!”
Dim grew the finest path;
Onward they trod;
Firm beat their noble hearts,
Trusting in God;
Gray men and blooming maids,
High rose their song
Hear it sweep, clear and deep,
Ever along—
“Pilgrim and wanderers,
Hither we come;
Where the free dare to be—
This is our home!”
Green be their mossy graves!
Ours be their fame,
While their song peals along
Ever the same;
“Pilgrims and wanderers,
Hither we come;
Where the free dare to be—
This is our home!”
—George Lunt
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Potter
Today as I watched the potter
He molded a beautiful vase.
As he picked up the clay to shape it,
Each particle fell into place.
It seemed as if he crushed it and pressed it
Every flaw had dissolved in his hands;
And soon he had fashioned a vessel,
Exactly as first he had planned.
Then I saw him open an oven
And the vessel was placed in the heat.
The surface began to harden;
To glisten and shine as a sheet.
So often we’re placed in the furnace,
We’re tried and crushed to pure gold.
As a potter turns out his vessel,
So our lives are shaped I am told.
Now I thought as I saw him in action,
How God molds our lives every day,
How He irons out all our defects
And works every blemish away.
Then I prayed, “Oh, may I be pliant,
That I may be easily bent,
That I may fit into the pattern,
Of the mission for which I am sent.”
—Norman P. Woodruff
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Pup
He tore the curtains yesterday,
And scratched the paper on the wall;
Ma’s rubbers, too, have gone astray—
She says she left them in the hall;
He tugged the tablecloth and broke
A fancy saucer and a cup;
Though Bud and I think it a joke
Ma scolds a lot about the pup.
The sofa pillows are a sight,
The rugs are looking somewhat frayed,
And there is ruin, left and right
That little Boston bull has made.
He slept on Buddy’s counterpane—
Ma found him there when she woke up.
I think it needless to explain
She scolds a lot about the pup.
And yet he comes and licks her hand
And sometimes climbs into her lap
And there, Bud lets me understand,
He very often takes his nap.
And Bud and I have learned to know
She wouldn’t give the rascal up:
She’s really fond of him, although
She scolds a lot about the pup.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Red Sea
When the children of Israel crossed the sea
It comforts my heart to know
That there must have been many timorous ones
Who faltered and feared to go;
Feared the ribbon of road which stretched
Ahead like a narrow track
With the waves piled high on either side,
And nothing to hold them back—
Nothing to hold them back but a hand
They could neither see nor feel.
Their God seemed distant and far away,
And inly the peril real.
Yet the fearful ones were as safe as the brave,
For the mercy of God is wide.
Craven and fearless, He leads them all
Dry shod to the other side.
And I think of the needless terror and pain
We bring to our own Red Sea.
Strengthen Thy timorous ones, dear Lord,
And help us to trust in Thee!
—Martha Snell Nicholson
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
—Robert Frost
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Rough Little Rascal
A smudge on his nose and a smear on his cheek
And knees that might not have been washed in a week;
A bump on his forehead, a scar on his lip,
A relic of many a tumble and trip:
A rough little, tough little rascal, but sweet,
Is he that each evening I’m eager to meet.
A brow that is beady with jewels of sweat;
A face that’s as black as a visage can get;
A suit that at noon was a garment of white,
Now one that his mother declares is a fright:
A fun-loving, sun-loving rascal, and fine,
Is he that comes placing his black fist in mine.
A crop of brown hair that is tousled and tossed;
A waist from which two of the buttons are lost;
A smile that shines out through the dirt and the grime,
And eyes that are flashing delight all the time:
All these are the joys that I’m eager to meet
And look for the moment I get to my street.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Thy Will Be Done
Do you want what you want when you want it?
Do you pray and expect a reply?
And when it’s not instantly answered,
Do you feel that God passed you by?
Well, prayers that are prayed in this manner
Are really not prayers at all,
For you can’t go to God in a hurry
And expect Him to answer your call ...
For prayers are not meant for obtaining
What we selfishly wish to acquire,
For God in His wisdom refuses
The things that we wrongly desire.
Don’t pray for freedom from trouble,
Or ask that life’s trials pass you by,
Instead pray for strength and for courage
To meet life’s “dark hours” and not cry
That God was not there when you called Him,
And He turned a deaf ear to your prayer
And just when you needed Him most,
He left you alone in despair …
Wake up! You are missing completely
The reason and purpose for prayer,
Which is really to keep us contented
That God holds us safe in His care.
And God only answers our pleadings
When He knows that our wants fill a need,
And whenever “our will” becomes “His will”
There is no prayer that God does not heed.
—Helen Steiner Rice
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Too Many Daves
Did I ever tell you that Mrs. McCave
Had twenty-three sons and she named them all Dave?
Well, she did. And that wasn’t a smart thing to do.
You see, when she wants one and calls out “Yoo-Hoo!
Come into the house, Dave!” she doesn’t get one.
All twenty-three Daves of hers come on the run!
This makes things quite difficult at the McCaves’
As you can imagine, with so many Daves.
And often she wishes that, when they were born,
She had named one of them Bodkin Van Horn
And one of them Hoos-Foos. And one of them Snimm.
And one of them Hot-Shot. And one Sunny Jim.
And one of them Shadrack. And one of them Blinkey.
And one of them Stuffy. And one of them Stinkey.
Another one Putt-Putt. Another one Moon Face.
Another one Marvin O’Gravel Balloon Face.
And one of them Ziggy. And one Soggy Muff.
One Buffalo Bill. And one Biffalo Buff.
And one of them Sneepy. And one Weepy Weed.
And one Paris Garters. And one Harris Tweed.
And one of them Sir Michael Carmichael Zutt
And one of them Oliver Boliver Butt
And one of them Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate. . .
But she didn’t do it. And now it’s too late.
—Dr. Seuss
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Touch of the Master’s Hand
‘Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice,
And going, and gone!” said he.
“What am I bidden, good folks?” he cried,
“Who’ll start the bidding for me?
“A dollar, one dollar”–then “Two! Only two!
Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?”
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
“We do not understand
What changed its worth?” Swift came the reply.
“The touch of the master’s hand.”
“Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
And going for three”—But no,
From the room far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.
A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine,
A game — and he travels on;
He’s “going” once and “going” twice—
He’s “going” and almost “gone!”
The music ceased and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: “What am I bid for the old violin?”
And he held it up with the bow.
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul, and the change that’s wrought
By the touch of the Master’s hand.
—Myra Welch
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Up to the Ceiling
Up to the ceiling
And down to the floor,
Hear him now squealing
And calling for more.
Laughing and shouting,
“Away up!” he cries.
Who could be doubting
The love in his eyes.
Heigho! my baby!
And heigho! my son!
Up to the ceiling
Is wonderful fun.
Bigger than daddy
And bigger than mother;
Only a laddie,
But bigger than brother.
Laughing and shouting,
And squirming and wriggling,
Cheeks fairly glowing,
Now cooing and giggling!
Down to the cellar,
Then quick as a dart
Up to the ceiling
Brings joy to the heart.
Gone is the hurry,
The anguish and sting,
The heartache and worry
That business cares bring;
Gone is the hustle,
The clamor for gold,
Who could be doubting
The rush and the bustle
The day’s affairs hold.
Peace comes to the battered
Old heart of his dad,
When “up to the ceiling”
He plays with his lad.
—Edgar A. Guest
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
What Christ Said
I said, “Let me walk in the fields”
He said, “Nay, walk in the town”
I said, “There are no flowers there”
He said, “No flowers, but a crown.”
I said, “But the air is thick,
And fogs are veiling the sun”
He answered, “Yet hearts are sick,
And souls in the dark undone.”
I said, “I shall miss the light,
And friends will miss me, they say”
He answered me, “Choose tonight
If I am to miss you or they.”
I pleaded for time to be given,
He said, “Is it hard to decide?
It will not seem hard in heaven
To have followed the steps of your Guide.”
I cast one look at the field,
Then set my face to the town
He said, “My child, do you yield?
Will you leave the flowers for a crown?”
Then into His hand went mine,
And into my heart came He.
And I walked in a light divine
The path I had feared to see.
—George MacDonald
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
Who Knows a Mountain?
Who knows a mountain?
One who has gone
To worship its beauty
In the dawn;
One who has slept
On its breast at night;
One who has measured
His strength to its height;
One who has followed
Its longest trail.
And laughed in the face
Of its fiercest gale;
One who has scaled its peaks,
And has trod
Its cloud-swept summits
Alone with God.
—Ethel Romig Fuller
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The World We Make
We make the world in which we live
By what we gather and what we give
By our daily deeds and the things we say,
By what we keep or we cast away.
We make our world by the beauty we see
In a skylark’s song or a lilac tree,
In a butterfly’s wing, in the pale moon’s rise,
And the wonder that lingers in midnight skies.
We make our world by the life we lead,
By the friends we have, by the books we read,
By the pity we show in the hour of care,
By the loads we lift and the love we share.
We make our world by the goals we pursue,
By the heights we seek and the higher view,
By hopes and dreams that reach the sun
And a will to fight till the heights are won.
What is the place in which we dwell,
A hut or a palace, a heaven or hell
We gather and scatter, we take and we give,
We make our world—and there we live.
—Alfred Grant Walton
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Student Activities 5th Grade Poetry Handbook
The World’s Bible
Christ has no hands but our hands
To do His work today;
He has no feet but our feet
To lead men in His way;
He has no tongue but our tongue
To tell men how He died;
He has no help but our help
To bring them to His side.
We are the only Bible
The careless world will read;
We are the sinner’s gospel,
We are the scoffer’s creed;
We are the Lord’s last message,
Given in deed and word;
What if the type is crooked?
What if the print is blurred?
What if our hands are busy
With other work than His?
What if our feet are walking
Where sin’s allurement is?
What if our tongues are speaking
Of things His lips would spurn.
How can we hope to help Him
And hasten His return?
—Annie Johnson Flint
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41
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
6TH GRADE POETRY
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
Marco Comes Late 23
The Ant and the Cricket 4
Mother’s Glasses 24
Barbara Frietchie (pronounced “Frichee”) 5
Mother’s Ugly Hands 25
The Blind Men and the Elephant 6
Nathan Hale 26
Castor Oil 7
One, Two, Three 27
The Children’s Hour 8
Peace Hymn of the Republic 28
Columbus 9
Problem Child 29
The Country Mouse and the City Mouse 10
A Psalm of Life 30
The Cross Was His Own 11
The Real Successes 31
Daniel Boone 12
The Sandpiper 32
The Dreams 13
The Scoffer 33
The Dying Father 14
The Singer’s Revenge 34
The House with Nobody in It 15
The Spider and the Fly 35
How Do You Tackle Your Work? 16
The Story of Albrecht Dürer 36
If 17
Thanksgiving 37
In Times Like These 18
To the Flag 38
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers 19
To the Humble 39
Live Christmas Every Day 20
Vacation Time 40
The Lost Purse 21
The Village Blacksmith 41
Ma and the Auto 22
When Pa Comes Home 42
Please note: These are not required poems, but examples of
acceptable material. Comparable pieces may be chosen from
other sources if approved by school coordinator.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
2
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Ant and the Cricket
A silly young cricket, accustomed to sing
If not, he must die of starvation and sorrow.
Through the warm, sunny months of gay summer
and spring,
Says the ant to the cricket, “I’m your servant and friend,
Began to complain when he found that, at home,
His cupboard was empty, and winter was come.
Not a crumb to be found
On the snow-covered ground;
Not a flower could he see,
Not a leaf on a tree.
But we ants never borrow; we ants never lend,
But tell me, dear cricket, did you lay nothing by
“Oh, what will become,” says the cricket, “of me?”
When the weather was warm?” Quoth the cricket,
“Not I!
My heart was so light
That I sang day and night,
For all nature looked gay,”
“You sang, sir, you say?
At last, by starvation and famine made bold,
Go, then,” says the ant, “and dance winter away!”
All dripping with wet, and all trembling with cold,
Thus ending, he hastily lifted the wicket,
Away he set off to a miserly ant,
And out of the door he turned the poor cricket.
To see if, to keep him alive, he would grant
Him shelter from rain,
And a mouthful of grain.
He wished only to borrow;
He’d repay it tomorrow;
Folks call this a fable, I’ll warrant it true:
Some crickets have four legs, and some have but two.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—*Adapted from Aesop
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Barbara Frietchie (pronounced “Frichee”)
The poem “Barbara Frietchie ” was written about an event that was supposed to have taken place during the War Between the States.
Part of General Lee— Confederate forces, under General Stonewall Jackson, marched through Frederick, Maryland, on their way to
Harper‘s Ferry. The legend of what Barbara Frietchie did on that day has been written many times. John Greenleaf Whittier’s poem is the
best remembered.
The patriotic cry of Barbara Frietchie is a symbol of love of country. The gallant behavior of General Stonewall Jackson is a symbol of
respect. The Scripture says, “They that be wise ... shall shine as the star.” The poet likens Stonewall Jackson and Barbara Frietchie to:
“Stars below in Frederick town! ”
Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,
Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;
The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.
Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,
“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country’s flag,” she said.
Fair as the garden of the Lord
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came,
On that pleasant mom of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain wall,—
The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman’s deed and word:
Over the mountain, winding down,
Horse and foot into Frederick town.
“Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on!” he said.
Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet:
Flapped in the morning wind; the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
All day long that free flag tost
Over the head of the rebel host.
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
Ever its tom folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;
Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down;
And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good-night.
In her attic-window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er,
And the rebel rides on his raids no more.
Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
Honor to her! and let a tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.
Under his slouched hat, left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.
Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave,
Flag of freedom and union, wave!
“Halt!”—the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
“Fire!”—out blazed the rifle-blast.
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;
It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town!
—John Greenleaf Whittier
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Blind Men and the Elephant
It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.
The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: “E’en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!”
The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
“God bless me! But the Elephant
Is very like a wall!”
The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a rope!”
The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried “Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me ‘tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!”
And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!
The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake;
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a snake!”
MORAL.
The Fourth reached out an eager hand
And felt about the knee.
“What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain,” quoth he,
‘Tis clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!”
So oft in theologic wars,
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
No one of them has seen!
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—John Godftey Sax
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Castor Oil
I don’t mind lickin’s, now an’then,
An’ I can even stand it when
My mother calls me in from play
To run some errand right away.
There’s things ‘bout bein’just a boy
That ain’t all happiness an’joy,
But I suppose I’ve got to stand
My share o’ trouble in this land,
An’ I ain’t kickin’ much—but, say,
The worst of parents is that they
Don’t realize just how they spoil
A feller’s life with castor oil.
Of all the awful stuff, Gee Whiz!
That is the very worst there is.
An’ every time if I complain,
Or say I’ve got a little pain,
There’s nothing else that they can think
‘Cept castor oil for me to drink.
I notice, though, when Pa is ill,
That he gets fixed up with a pill,
An’ Pa don’t handle Mother rough
An’ make her swallow nasty stuff;
But when I’ve got a little ache,
It’s castor oil I’ve got to take.
I don’t mind goin’ up to bed
Afore I get the chapter read;
I don’t mind bein’ scolded, too,
For lots of things I didn’t do;
But, Gee! I hate it when they say,
“Come! Swallow this—an’ right away!”
Let poets sing about the joy
It is to be a little boy,
I’ll tell the truth about my case:
The poets here can have my place,
An’ I will take their life of toil
If they will take my castor oil.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Children’s Hour
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day’s occupations,
That is known as the Children’s Hour.
They climb up into my turret
O’er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened
And voices soft and sweet.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
A whisper, and then a silence;
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
I have you fast in my fortress
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
And there I will keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
—Henry W. Longfellow
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Columbus
Behind him lay the gray Azores,
Behind the Gates of Hercules;
Before him not the ghosts of shores,
Before him only shoreless seas.
The good mate said, “Now we must pray
For, lo, the very stars are gone.
Brave Adm’r’l, speak: what shall I say?”
“Why, say: Sail on! Sail on! And on!”
They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate,
“This mad sea shows his teeth tonight,
He curls his lip, he lies in wait,
With lifted teeth as if to bite:
Brave Adm’r’l, say but one good word;
What shall we do when hope is gone?”
The words leaped as a leaping sword:
“Sail on! Sail on! Sail on! Sail on!”
“My men grow mutinous day by day;
My men grow ghastly, wan and weak.”
The stout mate thought of home; a spray
Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
“What shall I say, brave Adm’r’l, say,
If we sight naught but sea at dawn?”
“Why, you shall say at break of day,
Sail on! Sail on! Sail on! And on!”
Then pale, and worn, he kept his deck
And peered through darkness. Ah, that night
Of all dark nights! A light!
A light! A light! A light!
It grew, a starlight flag unfurled!
It grew to be time’s burst of dawn.
He gained a world; he gave that world
Its greatest lesson. “On! Sail on!”
They sailed and sailed as winds might blow,
Until at last the blanched mate said;
“Why, now not even God would know
Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget their ways,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak brave Adm’r’l, speak and say.”
He said: “Sail on! Sail on! And on!”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Joaquin Miller
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Country Mouse and the City Mouse
In a snug little cot lived a fat little mouse,
Who enjoyed, unmolested, the range of the house;
With plain food content, she would breakfast on cheese,
She dined upon bacon, and supped on grey peas.
A friend from the town to the cottage did stray,
And he said he was come a short visit to pay;
So the mouse spread her table as gay as you please,
And brought the nice bacon and charming grey peas.
The visitor frowned, and he thought to be witty:
Cried he, “You must know, I am come from the city,
Where we all should be shocked at provisions like these,
For we never eat bacon and horrid grey peas.
“To town come with me, I will give you a treat:
Some excellent food, most delightful to eat.
With me shall you feast just as long as you please;
Come, leave this fat bacon and shocking grey peas.”
This kind invitation she could not refuse,
And the city mouse wished not a moment to lose;
Reluctant she quitted the fields and the trees,
The delicious fat bacon and charming grey peas.
They slyly crept under a gay parlor door,
Where a feast had been given the evening before;
And it must be confessed they on dainties did seize,
Far better than bacon,or even grey peas.
Here were custard and trifle, and cheesecakes good store,
Nice sweetmeats and jellies, and twenty things more;
All that art had invented the palate to please,
Except some fat bacon and smoking grey peas.
They were nicely regaling, when into the room
Came the dog and the cat, and the maid with a broom:
They jumped in a custard both up to their knees;
The country mouse sighed for her bacon and peas.
Cried she to her friend, “Get me safely away,
I can venture no longer in London to stay;
For if oft you receive interruptions like these,
Give me my nice bacon and charming grey peas.”
—Richard Scrafton Sharpe
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Cross Was His Own
They borrowed a bed to lay His head,
He borrowed a room on the way to the tomb.
The Christ the Lord came down;
The passover lamb to eat.
They borrowed a donkey in the mountain pass
They borrowed a cave, for Him a grave,
For Him to ride to town.
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
were His own.
They borrowed a winding sheet.
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
were His own.
He borrowed the bread when the crowd he fed
The thorns on His head were worn in my stead.
On the grassy mountain side;
For me the Savior died.
He borrowed the dish of broken fish
For guilt of my sin the nails drove in
With which He satisfied.
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
were His own.
When Him they crucified.
Though the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
were His own.
He borrowed the ship in which to sit
They rightly were mine—instead.
To teach the multitude;
He borrowed the nest in which to rest.
He had never a home as crude;
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
were His own.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Author Unknown
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Daniel Boone
Daniel Boone at twenty-one
Came with his tomahawk, knife, and gun
Home from the French and Indian War
To North Carolina and the Yadkin shore.
He married his maid with a golden band,
Builded his house and cleared his land;
But the deep woods claimed their son again
And he turned his face from the homes of men.
Over the Blue Ridge, dark and lone,
The Mountains of Iron, the Hills of Stone,
Braving the Shawnee’s jealous wrath,
He made his way on the Warrior’s Path.
Alone he trod the shadowed trails;
But he was lord of a thousand vales
As he roved Kentucky, far and near,
Hunting the buffalo, elk, and deer.
What joy to see, what joy to win
So fair a land for his kith and kin,
Of streams unstained and woods unhewn!
“Elbow room!” laughed Daniel Boone.
On the Wilderness Road that his axinen made
The settlers flocked to the first stockade;
The deerskin shirts and the coonskin caps
Filed through the glens and the mountain gaps;
And hearts were high in the fateful spring
When the land said “Nay!” to the stubborn king.
While the men of the East of farm and town
Strove with the troops of the British Crown,
Daniel Boone from a surge of hate
Guarded a nation’s westward gate.
Down in the fort in a wave of flame
The Shawnee horde and the Mingo came,
And the stout logs shook in a storm of lead;
But Boone stood firm and the savage fled.
Peace! And the settlers flocked anew,
The farm lands spread, the town lands grew;
But Daniel Boone was ill at ease
When he saw the smoke in his forest trees.
“There’ll be no game in the country soon.
Elbow room!” cried Daniel Boone.
Straight as a pine at sixty-five—
Time enough for a man to thrive—
He launched his bateau on Ohio’s breast
And his heart was glad as he oared it west;
There was kindly folk and his own true blood
Where great Missouri rolls his flood;
New woods, new streams, and room to spare,
And Daniel Boone found comfort there.
Yet far he ranged toward the sunset still,
Where the Kansas runs and the Smoky Hill,
And the prairies toss, by the south wind blown;
And he killed his bear on the Yellowstone.
But ever he dreamed of new domains
With vaster woods and wider plains;
Ever he dreamed of a world-to-be
Where there are no bounds and the soul is free.
At fourscore-five, still stout and hale,
He heard a call to a farther trail;
So he turned his face where the stars are strewn;
“Elbow room!” sighed Daniel Boone.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Arthur Guiterman
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Dreams
Two dreams came down to earth one night
From the realm of mist and dew;
One was a dream of the old, old days,
And one was a dream of the new.
One was a dream of a shady lane
That led to the pickerel pond
Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves
To the brown old hills beyond.
And the people that peopled the old-time dream
Were pleasant and fair to see,
And the dreamer he walked with them again
As often of old walked he.
Oh, cool was the wind in the shady lane
That tangled his curly hair!
Oh, sweet was the music the robins made
To the springtime everywhere!
Was it the dew the dream had brought
From yonder midnight skies,
Or was it tears from the dear, dead years
That lay in the dreamer’s eyes?
The other dream ran fast and free,
As the moon benignly shed
Her golden grace on the smiling face
In the little trundle-bed.
For ‘twas a dream of times to come
Of the glorious noon of dayOf the summer that follows the careless spring
When the child is done with play.
And ‘twas a dream of the busy world
Where valorous deeds are done;
Of battles fought in the cause of right,
And of victories nobly won.
It breathed no breath of the dear old home
And the quiet joys of youth;
It gave no glimpse of the good old friends
Or the old-time faith and truth.
But ‘twas a dream of youthful hopes,
And fast and free it ran,
And it told to a little sleeping child
Of a boy become a man!
These were the dreams that came one night
To earth from yonder sky;
There were the dreams two dreamers dreamed
My little boy and I.
And in our hearts my boy and I
Were glad that it was so;
He loved to dream of days to come,
And I of long ago.
So from our dreams my boy and I
Unwillingly awoke,
But neither of his precious dream
Unto the other spoke.
Yet of the love we bore those dreams
Gave each his tender sign;
For there was triumph in his eyes—
And there were tears in mine!
—Eugene Field
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Dying Father
The doctors shook their heads and said,
“All hope for him is past …
‘Twill be a miracle if he
Another day will last!”
The gray-haired man had read their lips.
Then asked to see his wife;
He told her, “Dear, call all the kids,
While I’m still blessed with life.”
With family then around his bed,
So anxious and forlorn,
He hugged and told them, one by one,
“I’ll see you in the mom.”
The last to see him was his son
Who was his “pride and joy”;
With tears that filled his eyes he said:
“Good-bye, my darling boy!”
His son replied, “Dear dad, why did
You say these words to me
Won’t I meet you when comes the morn—
I’m in your family?”
His father then replied, “Dear son,
The Devil’s way you’ve trod …
And where I’m going you can’t come,
Unless you trust in God!…
So many tears I’ve shed for you—
Oft times I couldn’t sleep;
For like my Savior I so love
His lost and dying sheep!”
This son was filled with deepest grief,
Then hugged his dying dad,
And said, “Could Jesus love someone
Who’s been so mean and bad?”
His father said, “Oh yes, He can—
Just bow your head and pray!”
Then Jesus came into his heart,
And joy was great that day!
And though death took him, heaven left
A smile none could erase;
“Safe in the fold!” was written on
That blessed father’s face! —Les Cox
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The House with Nobody in It
Whenever I walk to Suff-ron along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I’ve passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn’t haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn’t be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.
The house on the road to Suffron needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.
If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I’d put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.
I’d buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I’d find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.
Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,
Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.
But there’s nothing mourriful about it; it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known.
But a house that has done what a house should do, a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby’s laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it’s left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.
So whenever I go to Suffron along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can’t help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.
—Joyce Kilmer
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
How Do You Tackle Your Work?
How do you tackle your work each day?
Are you scared of the job you find?
Do you grapple the task that comes your way
With a confident, easy mind?
Do you stand right up to the work ahead
Or fearfully pause to view it?
Do you start to toil with a sense of dread
Or feel that you’re going to do it?
You can do as much as you think you can,
But you’ll never accomplish more;
If you’re afraid of yourself, young man,
There’s little for you in store.
For failure comes from the inside first,
It’s there if we only knew it,
And you can win, though you face the worst,
If you feel that you’re going to do it.
Success! It’s found in the soul of you,
And not in the realm of luck!
The world will furnish the work to do,
But you must provide the pluck.
You can do whatever you think you can,
It’s all in the way you view it.
It’s all in the start that you make, young man:
You must feel that you’re going to do it.
How do you tackle your work each day?
With confidence clear, or dread?
What to yourself do you stop and say
When a new task lies ahead?
What is the thought that is in your mind?
Is fear ever running through it?
If so, just tackle the next you find
By thinking you’re going to do it.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give away to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream and not make dreams your master;
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop to build ‘em up with womout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch and toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which say to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’worth of distance run
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
—Rudyard Kipling
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
In Times Like These
We read the headlines daily
and listen to the news,
We shake our heads despairingly
and glumly sing the blues—
We are restless and dissatisfied
and we do not feel secure,
We are vaguely discontented
with the things we must endure …
This violent age we live in
is filled with nameless fears
As we listen to the newscasts
that come daily to our ears,
And we view the threatening future
with sad sobriety
As we’re surrounded daily
by increased anxiety …
How can we find security
or stand on solid ground
When there’s violence and dissension
and confusion all around;
Where can we go for refuge
from the rising tides of hate,
Where can we find a haven
to escape this shameful fate...
So instead of reading headlines
that disturb the heart and mind,
Let us open up the BIBLE
and in doing so we’ll find
That this age is no different
from the millions gone before,
But in every hour of crisis
God has opened up a door
For all who seek His guidance
and trust His all-wise plan,
For God provides protection
beyond that devised by man...
And we learn that each TOMORROW
is not ours to understand,
But lies safely in the keeping
of the great Creator’s Hand,
And to have the steadfast knowledge
that WE NEVER WALK ALONE
And to rest in the assurance
that our EVERY NEED IS KNOWN
Will help dispel our worries,
our anxieties and care,
For doubt and fear are vanquished
in THE PEACEFULNESS OF PRAYER
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Helen Steiner Rice
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers
The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
The woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches tossed;
The heavy night hung dark
The hills and waters o’er,
When a band of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.
Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came;
Not with the roll of stirring drums
And the trumpet that sings of fame.
Admidst the storm they sang,
And the stars heard and the sea;
And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang
To the anthem of the free.
There were men with hoary hair
Amidst that pilgrim-band—
Why had they come to wither there,
Away form their childhood’s land?
There was woman’s fearless eye,
Lit by her deep love’s truth;
There was manhood’s brow, serenely high,
And the fiery heart of youth.
What sought they thus afar?
Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?
They sought a faith’s pure shrine!
Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod;
They have left unstained what there they found,
Freedom to worship God.
—Felicia Hemans
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Live Christmas Every Day
Christmas is more than a day
at the end of the year,
More than a season
of joy and good cheer,
Christmas is really
God’s pattern for living
To be followed all year
by unselfish giving.
For the holiday season
awakens good cheer
And draws us closer
to those we hold dear,
And we open our hearts
and find it is good
To live among men
as we always should.
But as soon as the tinsel
is stripped from the tree,
The spirit of Christmas
fades silently
Into the background
of daily routine,
And is lost in the whirl
of life’s busy scene.
And all unaware
we miss and forego
The greatest blessing
that mankind can know,
For if we lived Christmas
every day, as we should,
And made it our aim
to always do good,
We’d find the lost key
to meaningful living
That comes not from getting,
but from unselfish giving.
And we’d know the great joy
of Peace upon Earth,
Which was the real purpose
of our Savior’s birth,
For in the Glad Tidings
of that first Christmas night,
God showed us THE WAY
and the Truth and the Light!
—Helen Steiner Rice
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
21
The Lost Purse
I remember the excitement and the terrible alarm
That worried everybody when William broke his arm;
An’ how frantic Pa and Ma got only j es’ the other
day
When they couldn’t find the baby ‘coz he’d up and
walked away;
But I’m sure there’s no excitement that our house
has ever shook
Like the times Ma can’t remember where she’s put
her pocketbook.
When the laundry man is standin’ at the door an’
wants his pay
Ma hurries to get it, an’ the fun starts right away.
She hustles to the sideboard, ‘coz she knows exactly
where
She can put her hand right on it, but alas! it isn’t
there.
She tries the parlor table an’ she goes upstairs to
look,
An’ once more she can’t remember where she put
her pocketbook.
She tells us that she had it just a half an hour ago,
An’ now she cannot find it though she’s hunted high
and low;
She’s searched the kitchen cupboard an’ the bureau
drawers upstairs,
An’ it’s not behind the sofa nor beneath the parlor
chairs.
She makes us kids get busy searching every little
nook,
An’ this time say she’s certain that she’s lost her
pocketbook.
She calls Pa at the office an’ he laughs I guess, for
then
She always mumbles something ‘bout the heartlessness of men.
She calls to mind a peddlar who came to the kitchen
door,
An’ she’s certain from his whiskers an’the shabby
clothes he wore
An’ his dirty shirt an’ collar that he must have been a
crook,
An’ she’s positive that feller came and got her pocketbook.
But at last she allus finds it in some queer an’ funny
spot,
Where she’d put it in a hurry, an’had somehow clean
forgot;
An’ she heaves a sigh of gladness, an’ she says, “Well,
I declare,
I would take an oath this minute that I never put it
there.”
An’ we’re peaceable an’ quiet till next time Ma goes
to look
An’ finds she can’t remember where she put her
pocketbook.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Edgar A. Guest
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Ma and the Auto
Before we take an auto ride Pa says to Ma: “My dear,
Now just remember I don’t need suggestions from the rear.
If you will just sit still back there and hold in check your fright,
I’ll take you where you want to go and get you back all right.
Rember that my hearing’s good and also I’m not blind,
And I can drive this car without suggestions from behind.”
Ma promises that she’ll keep still, then off we gayly start,
But soon she notices ahead a peddler and his cart.
“You’d better toot your horn,” says she, “to let him know we’re near;
He might turn out!” and Pa replies: “just shriek at him, my dear.”
And then he adds: “Some day, so me guy will make a lot of dough
By putting horns on tonneau seats for women-folks to blow!
A little farther on Ma cries: “He signaled for a turn!”
And Pa says: “Did he?” in a tone that’s hot enough to burn.
“Oh, there’s a boy on roller skates!” cries Ma. “Now do go slow.
I’m sure he doesn’t see our car.” And Pa says: “I dunno,
I think I don’t need glasses yet, but really it may be
That I am blind and cannot see what’s right in front of me.”
If Pa should speed the car a bit some rigs to hurry past
Ma whispers: “Do be careful now. You’re driving much too fast.”
And all the time she’s pointing out the dangers of the street
And keeps him posted on the roads where trolley cars he’ll meet.
Last night when we got safely home, Pa sighed and said: “My dear,
I’m sure we’ve all enjoyed the drive you gave us from the rear!”
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
23
Marco Comes Late
“Young man!” said Miss Block,
“It’s eleven o’clock!
This school begins promptly at 8:15.
Why, THIS is a terrible time to arrive!
Why didn’t you come just as fast as you could?
What IS your excuse? It had better be good!”
Marco looked at the clock.
Then he looked at Miss Block.
“Excuse?” Marco stuttered.
“Er ... Well, it’s like this …
Something happened to me.
“This morning, Miss Block,
when I left home for school,
I hurried off early according to rule.
I said when I started a quarter past eight
I MUST not, I WILL not, I SHALL not be late!
I’ll be the first pupil to be in my seat.
Then BANG!
Something happened on Mulberry Street!
“I heard a strange ‘peep’ and I took a quick look
And you know what I saw
with the look that I took?
A bird laid an egg on my ‘rithmetic book!
I couldn’t believe it, Miss Block, but it’s true!
I stopped and I didn’t quite know what to do.
I didn’t dare run and I didn’t dare walk.
I didn’t dare yell and I didn’t dare talk.
I didn’t dare sneeze and I didn’t dare cough.
Because, if I did, I would knock the egg off.
So I stood there stock-still and it worried me pink
Then my feet got quite tired
and I sat down to think.
“And while I was thinking
down there on the ground,
I saw something move and I heard a loud sound
Of a worm who was having a fight with his wife.
The most terrible fight that I’ve heard in my life!
The worm he was yelling,
‘That boy should not wait!
He MUST not, he DARE not, he SHALL not be late!
That boy ought to smash that egg off of his head.’
Then the wife of the worm shouted back—and
SHE said,
‘To break that dear egg would be terribly cruel.
An egg’s more important than going to school.
That egg is that mother bird’s pride and her joy.
If he smashes that egg,
he’s the world’s meanest boy!’
“And while the worms argued
‘bout what I should do
A couple big cats started arguing too!
‘You listen to me!’ I heard one of them say,
‘If this boy doesn’t go on to school right away
Miss Block will be frightfully horribly mad
If the boy gets there late she will punish the lad!’
Then the other cat snapped.
‘I don’t care if she does,
This boy must not move!’ So I stayed where I was
With the egg on my head,
And my heart full off fears
And the shouting of cats and worms in my ears.
“Then, while I lay wondering
When all this would stop,
The egg on my book burst apart with a POP!
And out of the pieces of red and white shell
Jumped a strange brand-new bird
and he said with a yell,
‘I thank you, young fellow,
you’ve been simply great.
But, now that I’m hatched,
you no longer need wait.
I’m sorry, I kept you till ‘Ieven o’clock.
It’s really my fault. You tell THAT to Miss Block.
I wish you good luck and I bid you good day.’
That’s what the bird said. Then he fluttered away.
And THEN I got here just as fast as I could
And that’s my excuse and I think it’s quite good.”
Miss Block didn’t speak for a moment or two,
Her eyes looked at Marco
and looked him clean through.
Then she smiled.
“That’s a very good tale, if it’s true.
Did ALL of those things REALLY happen to you?”
“Er ... well,” answered Marco
with sort of a squirm.
“Not QUITE all, I guess. But I DID see a worm.”
—Dr. Seuss
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Mother’s Glasses
I’ve told about the times that Ma can’t find her pocketbook
And how we have to hustle round for it to help her look,
But there’s another care we know that often comes our way,
I guess it happens easily a dozen times a day.
It starts when first the postman through the door a letter passes,
And Ma says: “Goodness gracious me! Wherever are my glasses?”
We hunt ‘em on the mantelpiece an’ by the kitchen sink,
Until Ma says: “Now, children, stop, an’ give me time to think
Just when it was I used ‘em last an’ just exactly where.
Yes, now I know—the dining room. I’m sure you’ll find ‘em there.”
We even look behind the clock, we busy boys an’ lasses,
Until somebody runs across Ma’s missing pair of glasses.
We’ve found ‘em in the Bible, an’ we’ve found ‘em in the flour,
We’ve found ‘em in the sugar bowl, an’ once we looked an hour
Before we came across ‘em in the padding of her chair;
An’ many a time we’ve found ‘em in the topknot of her hair,
It’s a search that ruins order an’ the home completely wrecks,
For there’s no place where you may not find poor Ma’s elusive specs.
But we’re mighty glad, I tell you, that the duty’s ours to do,
An’ we hope to hunt those glasses till our time of life is through;
It’s a little bit of service that is joyous in its thrill,
It’s a task that calls us daily an’ we hope it always will.
Rich or poor, the saddest mortals of all the joyless masses
Are the ones who have no mother dear to lose her reading glasses.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Mother’s Ugly Hands
When Jean was just a little girl
She used to play for hours
With Tinker-Cat or Peter-Dog,
Or help Mom with her flowers.
But then sometimes her mom would stop
The work she had to do
To read to Jean or play with her;
And as God planned, Jean grew.
But then one day she realized
Her mom was not the same
As those of other little girls;
And Jean grew up with shame,
For Mother’s hands were ugly hands,
Misformed and scarred and red.
And somehow love for Mother changed
To selfishness and dread.
Somehow she never asked her mom
How those scars came to be,
Too busy with the selfish fear
That other eyes might see.
But then one time Jean’s grandma came
With suitcase packed to stay,
And it was at her grandma’s feet
The truth came out one day.
“When you were just a tiny thing,
About the age of two
One day your clothing caught on fire,
Though how we never knew;
Your mother said she scarcely felt
The searing tongues of flame,
As with her hands she fought the fire.
And that is how she came
To have the scars you hate so much;
She did it all for you.
You were not burned as bad as she,
And so you never knew.”
“Oh, Grandma, I am so ashamed!”
And Jean began to weep.
“To think my mother loved me so!”
That night she couldn’t sleep
And made her way to Mother’s room
And in a rush of tears
Received forgiveness for the hate
She harbored all those years.
That’s how it is with Mother love;
Of death it’s unafraid.
So very much like dying love
On Calvary’s hill portrayed.
Our Jesus too, bears ugly marks
Of suffering and of pain.
He did it all for you and me,
But it was not in vain.
For, as we view His suffering,
We, too, must cry, “Forgive!”
For only through His dying love
Are we prepared to live.
I’m thankful, God, for Mother love
Which bravely fought the fire,
And for my Jesus’ dying love
Which—that love did inspire.
—Mary Mason
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Nathan Hale
To drumbeat, and heartbeat,
A soldier marches by;
There is color in his cheek,
There is courage in his eye,
Yet to drumbeat and heartbeat
In a moment he must die.
By the starlight and moonlight,
He seeks the Briton’s camp;
He hears the rustling flag,
And the armed sentry’s tramp;
And the starlight and moonlight
His silent wanderings lamp.
With slow tread and still tread,
He scans the tented line;
And he counts the battery guns,
By the gaunt and shadowy pine;
And his slow tread and still tread
Gives no warning sign.
The dark wave, the plumed wave,
It meets his eager glance;
And it sparkles ‘neath the stars,
Like the glimmer of a lanceA dark wave, a plumed wave,
On an emerald expanse.
A sharp clang, a steel clang,
And terror in the sound!
For the sentry, falcon-eyed,
In the camp a spy hath found;
With a sharp clang, a steel clang,
The patriot is bound.
With calm brow, and steady brow,
He listens to his doom;
In his look there is no fear,
Nor a shadow-trace of gloom;
But with calm brow and steady brow,
He robes him for the tomb.
In the long night, the still night
He kneels upon the sod;
And the brutal guards withhold
E’en the solemn Word of God!
In the long night, the still night,
He walks where Christ hath trod.
‘Neath the blue morn, the sunny morn,
He dies upon the tree;
And he mourns that he can lose
But one life for Liberty;
And in the blue morn, the sunny morn,
His spirit wings are free.
But his last words, his message-words,
They bum, lest friendly eye
Should read how proud and calm
A patriot could die,
With his last words, his dying words,
A soldier’s battle cry.
From the Fame-leaf and Angel-leaf,
From monument and urn,
The sad of earth, the glad of heaven,
His tragic fate shall learn;
But on Fame-leaf and Angel-leaf
The name of HALE shall burn!
—Francis Miles Finch
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
One, Two, Three
It was an old, old, old lady
And a boy that was half-past three;
And the way that they played together
Was beautiful to see.
“You are up in Papa’s big bedroom,
In the chest with the queer old key,”
And she said; “You are wann and warmer
But you’re not quite right,” said she.
She couldn’t go running and jumping,
And the boy, no more could he,
For he was a thin little fellow,
With a thin little twisted knee.
“It can’t be the little cupboard
Where Mama’s things used to be;
So it must be the clothes press, Grandma.”
And he found her with his Three.
They sat in the yellow sunlight
Out under the maple trees,
And the game that they played I’ll tell you
Just as it was told to me.
Then she covered her face with her fingers,
That were wrinkled and white and wee
And she guessed where the boy was hiding,
With a One and a Two and a Three.
It was hide-and-go-seek they were playing,
Though you’d never have known it to be—
With an old, old, old, old lady,
And a boy with a twisted knee.
And they never had stirred from their places,
Out under the maple tree—
This old, old, old, old lady
And the boy with the lame little knee
This dear, dear, dear old lady
And the boy who was half-past three.
The boy would bend his face down
On his one little sound right knee,
And he’d guess where she was hiding,
In guesses One, Two, Three.
“You are in the china closet,”
He would cry, and laugh with glee—
It wasn’t the china closet,
But he still had Two and Three.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Harry C. Bunner
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Peace Hymn of the Republic
O Lord, our God, Thy mighty hand
Hath made our country free;
From all her broad and happy land
May praise arise to Thee.
Fulfill the promise of her youth,
Her liberty defend;
By law and order, love and truth,
America befriend!
The strength of every state increase
In Union’s golden chain;
Her thousand cities fill with peace,
Her million fields with grain.
The virtues of her mingled blood
In one new people blend;
By unity and brotherhood
America befriend!
O suffer not her feet to stray;
But guide her untaught might,
That she may walk in peaceful day,
And lead the world in light.
Bring down the proud, lift up the poor,
Unequal ways amend;
By justice, nation-wide and sure.
America befriend!
Through all the waiting land proclaim
Thy gospel of good-will;
And may the music of Thy name
In every bosom thrill.
O’er hill and vale, from sea to sea,
Thy holy reign extend;
By faith and hope and charity,
America befriend!
—Henry van Dyke
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Problem Child
How shall I deal with Roger, Mrs. Prodger?
I’ve never yet been able
To sit him at a table
And make him paint a label
For the salmon in the kindergarten shop.
But he’s full of animation
When I mention a dictation
And he never wants a spelling test to stop.
I’ve encouraged self-expression
And intentional digression
But I think I’ll have to let the system drop.
For the normal child, like Roger,
Is a do-er, not a dodger,
And my methods, Mrs. Prodger, are a flop.
How shall I deal with Roger, Mrs. Prodger?
I’ve had projects on the fairies,
On markets, shops and dairies;
I’ve had projects on the prairies,
But the little fellow doesn’t want to play:
Instead he has a yearning
For unreasonable learning,
And wants to do arithmetic all day.
He shows a strong proclivity
For purposeless activity,
And doesn’t want experience in clay.
So I rather think that Roger
Is a do-er, not a dodger,
And how would you deal with Roger, can you say?
—J. E. Faulker
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
A Psalm of Life
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, how’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,—act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Real Successes
You think that the failures are many,
You think the successes are few,
But you judge by the rule of the penny,
And not by the good that men do.
You judge men by standards of treasure
That merely obtain upon earth,
When the brother you’re snubbing may measure
Full-length to God’s standard of worth.
The failures are not in the ditches,
The failures are not in the ranks,
They have missed the acquirement of riches,
Their fortunes are not in the banks.
Their virtues are never paraded,
Their worth is not always in view,
But they’re fighting their battles unaided,
And fighting them honestly, too.
There are failures today in high places
The failures aren’t all in the low;
There are rich men with scorn in their faces
Whose homes are but castles of woe.
The homes that are happy are many,
And numberless fathers are true;
And this is the standard, if any,
By which we must judge what men do.
Wherever loved ones are awaiting
The toiler to kiss and caress,
Though in Bradstreet’s he hasn’t a rating,
He still is a splendid success.
If the dear ones who gather about him
And know what he’s striving to do
Have never a reason to doubt him,
Is he less successful than you?
You think that the failures are many,
You judge by men’s profits in gold;
You judge by the rule of the penny-In
this true success isn’t told.
This falsely man’s story is telling,
For wealth often brings on distress,
But wherever love brightens a dwelling,
There lives, rich or poor, a success.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
31
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Sandpiper
Across the narrow beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I,
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered driftwood bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,—
One little sandpiper and I.
Above our heads the sullen clouds
Scud black and swift across the sky;
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
Stand out the white lighthouses high.
Almost as far as an eye can reach
I see the close-reefed vessels fly,
As fast we flit along the beach,—
One little sandpiper and I.
I watch him as he skims along,
Uttering his sweet and mournful cry.
He starts not at my fitful song,
Nor flash of fluttering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong;
He scans me with a fearless eye:
Staunch friends are we, well tried and strong,
The little sandpiper and I.
Comrade, where wilt thou be tonight,
When the loosed storm breaks furiously?
My driftwood fire will bum so bright!
To what warm shelter canst thou fly?
I do not fear for thee, through wroth
The tempest rushes through the sky:
For are we not God’s children both,
Thou, little sandpiper, and I?
—Celia Thaxter
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Scoffer
If I had lived in Franklin’s time I’m most afraid that I,
Beholding him out in the rain, a kite about to fly,
And noticing upon its tail the barn door’s rusty key,
Would, with the scoffers on the street, have chortled in my glee;
And with a sneer upon my lips I would have said of Ben,
“His belfry must be full of bats. He’s raving, boys, again!”
I’m glad I didn’t live on earth when Fulton had his dream,
And told his neighbors marvelous tales of what he’d do with stream,
For I’m not sure I’d not have been a member of the throng
That couldn’t see how paddle wheels could shove a boat along.
At “Fulton’s Folly” I’d have sneered, as thousands did back then,
And called the Clermont’s architect the craziest of men.
Yet Franklin gave us wonders great and Fulton did the same,
And many “boobs” have left behind an everlasting fame.
And dead are all their scoffers now and all their sneers forgot
And scarce a nickel’s worth of good was brought here by the lot.
I shudder when I stop to think, had I been living then,
I might have been a scoffer, too, and jeered at Bob and Ben.
I am afraid today to sneer at any fellow’s dream.
Time was I thought men couldn’t fly or sail beneath the stream.
I never call a man a boob who toils throughout the night
On visions that I cannot see, because he may be right.
I always think of Franklin’s trick, which brought the jeers of men,
And to myself I say, “Who knows but here’s another Ben?”
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Singer’s Revenge
It was a singer of renown who did a desperate thing,
For all who asked him out to dine requested him to sing.
This imposition on his art they couldn’t seem to see.
For friendship’s sake they thought he ought to work without a fee.
And so he planned a dinner, too, of fish and fowl and wine
And asked his friends of high degree to come with him to dine.
His banker and his tailor came, his doctor, too, was there,
Likewise a leading plumber who’d become a millionaire.
The singer fed his guests and smiled, a gracious host was he;
With every course he ladled out delicious flattery,
And when at last the meal was done, he tossed his man a wink,
“Good friends,” said he, “I’ve artists here you’ll all enjoy, I think.
“I’ve trousers needing buttons, Mr. Tailor, if you please,
Will you oblige us all tonight by sewing some on these?
I’ve several pairs all handy-by, now let your needle jerk;
My guests will be delighted to behold you as you work.
“Now, doctor, just a moment, pray, I cannot sing a note;
I asked you here because I thought you’d like to spray my throat;
I know that during business hours for this you charge a fee,
But surely you’ll be glad to serve my friends, tonight, and me?”
The plumber then was asked if he would mend a pipe or two;
A very simple thing, of course, to urge a friend to do;
But reddest grew the banker’s face and reddest grew his neck,
Requested in his dinner clothes to cash a good sized check.
His guests astounded looked at him. Said they: “We are surprised!
To ask us here to work for you is surely ill-advised.
‘Tis most improper, impolite!” The singer shrieked in glee:
“My friends I’ve only treated you as you have treated me.”
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
35
The Spider and the Fly
“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the Spider to
the Fly,
‘Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you
are there.”
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come
down again.”
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up
so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to
the Fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets
are fine and thin;
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you
in!”
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it
said,
They never, never wake up again, who sleep upon
your bed!”
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend,
what can I do,
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for
you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that’s
nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome—will you please to
take a slice?”
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind sir, that cannot
be,
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish
to see.”
“Sweet creature,” said Spider, “you’re witty and
you’re wise;
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant
are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you’ll step in a moment dear, you shall behold
yourself.”
“I thank you gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re
pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I’ll call another day.”
The Spider tumed him round about, and went into
his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come
back again;
So he wove a subtle web, in a little comer sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily
did sing:
“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and
silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple—there’s a crest
upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are
dull as lead.”
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and
nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and
purple hue;
Thinking only of her crested head-poor foolish
thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held
her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal
den,
Within his little parlour—but she ne’er came out
again!
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Mary Howitt
36
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Story of Albrecht Dürer
As you read this poem
Perhaps you’d like to know
That this story really happened
Many centuries ago
When two talented young artists
Were struggling hard to earn
Just enough to live on
So both of them might learn
How to be great artists
And leave behind a name
That many centuries later
Would still retain its fame,
But in their dire necessity
For the warmth of food and fire,
One of the artists sacrificed
His dream and heart’s desire
So he might earn a living
And provide enough to eat
‘Tit both of them were back again
Securely on their feet …
But months and years of grueling toil
Destroyed the craftsman’s touch,
And scarred and stiffened were the hands
That held promise of so much,
He could no longer hold a brush
The way he used to do,
And the dream he once had cherished,
No longer could come true …
So uncomplainingly he lived
With his friend who had succeeded
Who now could purchase all the things
They once had so much needed. .
But the famous ALBRECHT DÜRER,
The friend we’re speaking of,
Was always conscious that he owed
A debt of thanks and love
To one who sacrificed his skill
So that Dürer might succeed,
But how can anyone repay
A sacrificial deed,
But when he saw these hands in prayer
He decided he would paint
A picture for the world to see
Of this “unheralded saint’ ...
So down through countless ages
And in many, many lands
All men could see the beauty
In these toilworn PRAYING HANDS …
And seeing, they would recognize
That behind FAME and SUCCESS
Somebody sacrificed a dream
For another’s happiness.
—Helen Steiner Rice
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Thanksgiving
For strength to face the battle’s might,
For men that dare to die for right,
For hearts above the lure of gold
And fortune’s soft and pleasant way,
For courage of our days of old,
Great God of All, we kneel and pray.
We thank Thee for our splendid youth.
Who fight for liberty and truth,
Within whose breasts there glows anew
The glory of the altar fires
Which our heroic fathers knew—
God make them worthy of their sires!
We thank Thee for our mothers fair
Who through the sorrows they must bear
Still smile, and give their hearts to woe,
Yet bravely heed the day’s command—
That mothers, yet to be, may know
A free and glorious motherland.
Oh, God, we thank Thee for the skies
Where our flag now in glory flies!
We thank Thee that no love of gain
Is leading us, but that we fight
To keep our banner free from stain
And that we die for what is right.
Oh, God, we thank Thee that we may
Lift up our eyes to Thee today;
We thank Thee we can face this test
With honor and spotless name,
And that we serve a world distressed
Unselfishly and free from shame.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
37
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
38
To the Flag
Remember me? People call me Old Glory ... the Stars and Stripes ... the Star-Spangled Banner. What-ever
they call me, I am your flag—the flag of the United States of America!
I am the symbol of America—an America more precious than ever, because the gifts it has given you are
threatened with loss and destruction.I am the thrilling heart of America—the sign of your inheritance.
The courage and strength of the pioneers—the pathfinders who met hardship in the days when we
were beginning to be a nation—are in the red of my stripes.
The noble mind and motive of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and others who held high their beliefs in
the greatness of this nation, are in the white of my stripes.
The truth that will not stoop, the integrity of the principles that undergird you, the unshakable trust in God
that have come down to you, that you might walk in safety—these are in the blue of my field of stars.
And every one of those stars takes on fresh splendor—the splendor of a people free to wor-ship God as
they choose, free to work, to laugh, to love, to own, and to live—as you realize with bright, new clarity
how much these freedoms mean!
I am your Flag. I am the soul of America. Hold me proudly high!
—Adapted from Leland Scott and Grace Bush
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Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
To the Humble
If all the flowers were roses,
If never daisies grew,
If no old-fashioned posies
Drank in the morning dew,
Then man might have some reason
To whimper and complain,
And speak these words of treason,
That all our toil is vain.
If all the stars were Saturns
That twinkle in the night,
Of equal size and patterns,
And equally as bright,
Then men in humble places,
With humble work to do,
With frowns upon their faces
Might trudge their journey through.
But humble stars and posies
Still do their best, although
They’re planets not, nor roses,
To cheer the world below.
And those old-fashioned daisies
Delight the soul of man;
They’re here, and this their praise is
They work the Master’s plan.
Though humble be your labor,
And modest be your sphere,
Come, envy not your neighbor
Whose light shines brighter here.
Does God forget the daisies
Because the roses bloom?
Shall you not win His praises
By toiling at your loom?
Have you, the toiler humble,
Just reason to complain,
To shirk your task and grumble
And think that it is vain
Because you see a brother
With greater work to do?
No fame of his can smother
The merit that’s in you.
—Edgar A. Guest
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
39
40
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
Vacation Time
Vacation time! How glad it seemed
When as a boy I sat and dreamed
Above my school books, of the fun
That I should claim when toil was done;
And, oh, how oft my youthful eye
Went wandering with the patch of sky
That drifted by the window panes
O’er pleasant fields and dusty lanes,
Where I would race and romp and shout
The very moment school was out.
My artful little fingers then
Feigned labor with the ink and pen,
But heart and mind were far away,
Engaged in some glad bit of play.
And now my youngsters dream of play
In just the very selfsame way;
And they complain that time is slow
And that the term will never go.
Their little minds with plans are filled
For joyous hours they soon will build,
And it is vain for me to say,
That have grown old and wise and gray,
That time is swift, and joy is brief;
They’ll put no faith in such belief
To youthful hearts that long for play
Time is a laggard on the way.
‘Twas, oh, so slow to me back then
Ere I had learned the ways of men!
The last two weeks dragged slowly by;
Time hadn’t then learned how to fly.
It seemed the clock upon the wall
From hour to hour could only crawl,
And when the teacher called my name,
Unto my cheeks the crimson came,
For I could give no answer clear
To questions that I didn’t hear.
“Wool gathering, were you?” oft she said
And smiled to see me blushing red.
Her voice had roused me from a dream
Where I was fishing in a stream,
And, if I now recall it right,
Just at the time I had a bite.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Edgar A. Guest
41
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
The Village Blacksmith
Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
He goes on Sunday to the church
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter’s voice
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
His hair is crisp, and black and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate’er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face
For he owes not any man.
It sounds to him like her mother’s voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hands he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.
Week in, week out, from morn ‘til night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When evening sun is low.
Toiling—rejoicing—sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begun,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.
And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.
—Henry W. Longfellow
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42
Student Activities 6th Grade Poetry Handbook
When Pa Comes Home
When Pa comes home, I’m at the door,
An’ then he grabs me off the floor
An’ throws me up an’ catches me
When I come down, an’ then, says he:
“Well, how’d you get along to-day?
An’ were you good, an’ did you play,
An’ keep right out of mamma’s way?
An’ how’d you get that awful bump
Above your eye? My, what a lump!
An’ who spilled jelly on your shirt?
An’ where’d you ever find the dirt
That’s on your hands? And my! Oh, my!
I guess those eyes have had a cry,
They look so red. What was it, pray?
What has been happening here today?”
An’ then I laugh an’ say: “It’s me!
Me did most ever’thing you see.
Me got this bump the time me tripped.
An’ here is where the jelly slipped
Right off my bread upon my shirt,
An’ when me tumbled down it hurt.
That’s how me got all over dirt.
Me threw those building blocks downstairs,
An’ me upset the parlor chairs, ‘
‘Coz when you’re playin’ train you’ve got
To move things ‘round an awful lot.”
An’ then my Pa he kisses me
An’ bounces me upon his knee
An’ says: “Well, well, my little lad,
What glorious fun you must have had!”
An’ then he drops his coat an’ hat
Upon a chair, an’ says: “What’s that?
Who knocked that engine on its back
An’ stepped upon that piece of track?”
An’ then he takes me on his knee
An’ says: “What’s this that now I see?
Whatever can the matter be?
Who strewed those toys upon the floor,
An’ left those things behind the door?
Who upset all those parlor chairs
An’ threw those blocks upon the stairs?
I guess a cyclone called today
While I was workin’far away.
Who was it worried mamma so?
It can’t be anyone I know.”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—Edgar A. Guest
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
1ST–6TH GRADE BIBLE
MEMORIZATION
Student Activities 1st–6th Grade Bible Memorization Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
Bible Memorization 4
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
2
Student Activities 1st–6th Grade Bible Memorization Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
3
Student Activities 1st–6th Grade Bible Memorization Handbook
Bible Memorization
Scripture passages must come from one of the following Bible versions:
• King James Version (KJV)
• New King James Version (NKJV)
• New American Standard Bible (NASB)
• New International Version (NIV)
These are sample selections. Students may select comparable pieces.
Grades 1 and 2
Joshua 24:14–16
Psalm 1
Psalm 9:7–10
Psalm 23
Psalm 27:1–3
Psalm 27:4–6
Psalm 37:23–26
Psalm 86:11–13
Psalm 95:3–7
Psalm 100
Psalm 121:1–4
Proverbs 3:1–6
Isaiah 41:9–10
Isaiah 43:10–13
Isaiah 53:1–6
Matthew 5:43–48
Matthew 6:19–21
Matthew 16:13–16
Matthew 22:37–40
Matthew 24:42–44
John 14:1–6
Acts 1:8–11
Acts 4:10–12
Romans 3:23–26
Romans 15:5–7
2 Corinthians 5:17–21
Galatians 5:13–15
Ephesians 6:1–3
Philippians 4:6–8
Colossians 3:1–4
James 1:22–25
James 5:13–16
1 John 3:16–20
Grades 3 and 4
1 Samuel 12:1–10
2 Samuel 22:31–37
Psalm 19:7–14
Psalm 37:1–9
Psalm 51:1–12
Psalm 67:1–7
Psalm 103:1–12
Psalm 119:1–8
Psalm 119:9–16
Psalm 145:1–12
Proverbs 2:1–8
Malachi 3:6–12
Matthew 5:3–12
Matthew 7:15–21
Mark 10:17–27
Luke 12:22–28
Luke 19:1–10
John 1:6–14
John 6:32–40
Romans 5:1–11
1 Corinthians 11:23–29
1 Corinthians 13
Ephesians 4:22–32
Ephesians 6:11–18
Philippians 1:12–21
Philippians 3:7–14
Colossians 3:12–17
1 Thessalonians 4:13–17
2 Timothy 4:1–8
Hebrews 3:7–15
Hebrews 4:12–16
1 Peter 2:11–17
Grades 5 and 6
Psalm 15
Psalm 19:1–11
Psalm 33:1–12
Psalm 34:1–15
Psalm 96
Psalm 119:1–12
Psalm 139:1–14
Proverbs 3:13–26
Proverbs 4:13–27
Ecclesiastes 3:1–12
Isaiah 42:1–8
Isaiah 53
Matthew 6:25–33
Matthew 14:22–33
Luke 8:5–15
Acts 17:22–31
Romans 8:28–39
1 Corinthians 12:4–13
Galatians 5:16–25
Ephesians 3:14–21
Ephesians 4:1–15
Ephesians 4:17–24
Ephesians 5:15–21
Philippians 2:5–16
Colossians 1:9–14
Colossians 2:6–15
2 Timothy 2:14–26
Hebrews 11:1–10
Hebrews 12:1–11
James 3:1–12
James 4:1–10
James 5:13–20
1 Peter 1:10–25
1 Peter 1:3–12
1 Peter 4:12–19
2 Peter 1:3–11
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
4
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
5TH–6TH GRADE
DRAMATIC BIBLE PROSE
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
A Boy King and a Great Book 2 Kings 22, 23 4
Claiming God’s Promise Joshua 3, 4 5
A Cradle of Love Exodus 2:1–10 6
Daniel’s Testimony of Faith Daniel 6:1–28 7
Dorcas Comes to Life Acts 9:36–43 8
First Things First Luke 10:38–42 9
Handel’s Messiah 10–11
He Careth for You I Kings 17 12
How Jesus Saved Peter and Others in the Storm Mark 4:35–41 13
If He Had Not Come 14
In the Name of the Lord I Samuel 17:22–51 15
Jesus Brings a Little Girl Back to Life Mark 5:21–24, 35–43 16
Jesus Healing the Blind Man Mark 8:22–26 17
Jesus Healing the Two Blind Men Matthew 14:22–36 18
Jesus Walking on the Water Matthew 9:27–31 19
The Little Boy Who Gave His Lunch to Jesus Mark 6:32–44 20
The Little Lost Lamb Luke 15:3–7 21
A Much Better Gift Acts 3:1–11 22
One Who Said “Thank You” to Jesus Luke 17:11–19 23
Samaritan on the Road Luke 10:25–37 24
Samuel: Born to Serve 1 Samuel 1–3 25
A Son Comes Home Luke 15:11–24 26
Songs That Opened Prison Doors Acts 16:16–40 27
The Tax Collector Mark 2:13–15 28
Two Cousins Chosen by God Luke l:26–45 29
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
2
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
3
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
A Boy King and a Great Book
Long, long ago there lived a boy who at the age of
eight years woke one morning to find himself a king.
His father and grandfather, also kings, had not been
good ones; for they caused their people to go away
from the true God and to worship idols.
This boy king did not rule his people until he was
twenty-one years old, and while he was growing up,
princes ruled for him. During his growing-up days,
he worked hard to prepare himself to be a good
king to his people.
He decided that he did not want to be like his
father or grandfather, but rather like his great, great
sixteen-greats grandfather, King David. He must
have read all about him—how he killed lion, a bear,
and the powerful Philistine giant, showing how
brave and fearless he was. Then, too, he learned that
King David was not only very brave, but good, for he
had written lovely poems which told of his faith and
trust in the living God who had helped him in all
of his life’s experiences. Because of this knowledge
and more perhaps, Josiah, the boy king of Judah,
determined to follow David’s God and to try to be
the best king that a man could possibly be.
When he began his work, he found much to do
and to undo. First he had to purify his kingdom
from idolatry, so he tore down every altar that had
been built to idols. Then after that, he turned to the
splendid task of repairing the temple, God’s house
of worship, which had been so long neglected
that it was now a ruin. Contributions were given
by the people for this work of repair, and officers
were appointed to have charge of the work. Two
of these officers were named Shaphan, the scribe,
and Hilkiah, the high priest; but many other workers
were also needed to clear away all the rubbish and
to restore the temple to its original beauty.
While this repair work was going on, Hilkiah found
something in all that rubbish that interested him
very much. He peered at it closely and then more
closely. Why, it was the Book of the Law, God’s Book!
It had been forgotten and lost a long, long time—all
during the reigns of Josiah’s father and grandfather.
Hilkiah took it at once to Shaphan. He began to read,
4
2 Kings 22, 23
trembling with excitement. He soon saw that there
was not a moment to lose, so he hurried to the king
with the new-found treasure and began reading it
to him. The king was glad at first; but as the scribe
kept on reading to him, he became alarmed and very
sad. There was bad news in the Book for him and his
people; for God had given many commandments in it
that the people had not kept for years, and warnings
of great punishment that would come to those who
forsook Him and His ways.
Anxiously, the distressed king, who loved God and
His people, sought counsel. He sent off messengers
to see a woman living in Jerusalem. The woman,
named Huldah, was a prophetess. She sent this
message back to the king, “Thus saith the Lord God
of Israel: ‘I will hold back the punishment while King
Josiah lives because he has sought to do my will.”’
The men returned to Josiah with the message just
as fast as they could, for they knew how anxiously
he awaited them. After receiving the message,
King Josiah called his people—men, women, and
children—to meet him in the Temple of the Lord,
and there he read to all the people the words of the
Book that had been found, the Book that he knew
was God’s message to him and his people. That
wasn’t all; he also made a covenant with God to do
His will, and all the people agreed with him. Because
of this, God was pleased with Josiah’s work and
spared the nation the punishment that was to come
upon it.
The good work begun by Josiah continued, and
finally the priests were assembled together to be
trained. A choir of Levites was enrolled, and the
Temple services were held again as in the days of
old. Josiah continued all his days to serve the Lord
God and to lead his people in His holy ways. He
was a good king and the last great one of Judah.
In describing him, the Bible says, “Now before him
there was no king like him, who turned to the Lord
with all his heart, with all his soul, and with all his
might, according to all the Law of Moses, nor after
him did any arise like him.”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Claiming God’s Promise
God had promised the land of Canaan to the
Israelite people, but fear had kept them from
claiming the land for their own. For forty years the
people wandered in the wilderness. Then God called
Joshua to lead them into the promised land.
Joshua had instructed the people to get ready for
the great day of moving, pack their belongings,
and prepare enough food for several days! At his
command, the people began marching towards
Canaan. When they arrived at the River Jordan, they
set up their tents for the night, and Joshua said to
the people, “Sanctify yourselves, for tomorrow the
Lord will do wonders among you!”
Early in the morning the procession began,
according to the order given by the Lord: the priests
went first, carrying the ark of the covenant, followed
by the people and the armed warriors. The river
water was deep, but God had a plan. As the priests’
feet come to the brink of the water, God blocked
the river from flowing, and the riverbed dried up. As
they were instructed, the priests stood still on the
dry riverbed until all the people crossed over.
5
Joshua 3, 4
Then the Lord said to Joshua, “Take twelve men
from among the people, one man from each tribe,
and command them to take twelve stones from the
River Jordan where the priests’ feet stood firm. Bear
the stones over with you and put them down in the
place where you shall lodge tonight.”
Joshua instructed the men to gather the stones, and
after all the people had crossed over the river bed,
the priests also came out of the river onto the land
of Canaan. Then God released the waters to flow
through the river again.
And when they set their tents up for the night,
Joshua spoke to the people the words God had said
to him: “When your children shall ask their fathers
in time to come, saying ‘What mean these stones?’
then you shall let your children know, saying Israel
came over this Jordan on dry land, for the Lord your
God dried up the waters of the Jordan....”
The people had claimed God’s promise and
marked the spot for future generations, as God had
instructed, “. . . that all the peoples of the earth may
know the hand of the Lord, that it is mighty; that
you may fear the Lord your God forever.”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
6
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Cradle of Love
In an attempt to control the Israelite population in
Egypt, the Pharaoh ordered a cruel decree throughout the land: Every newborn Hebrew baby boy
must be cast into the Nile River. This terrible decree
caused great distress among all the Hebrew people.
At this time a Levite man and his wife were living in
Egypt with their son Aaron and daughter Miriam.
And the mother gave birth to another son. This
family loved the Lord God, and they loved the new
baby boy. Secretly, they kept the newborn in their
home, hiding him from the Egyptians. But as the
child grew and made cries loud enough for others
outside the home to hear, the mother knew she
must find another way to protect her baby.
The mother made a cradle basket, woven from
bulrushes that grew along the river edge. She sealed
it with mud and pitch to keep the water out. Then
she lined the basket with soft blankets, gently laid
the baby inside, and placed the basket at the edge
of the river. She instructed Miriam to stay nearby
and watch over her baby brother.
Before long the Pharaoh’s daughter, accompanied
by her maidens, came down to wash in the river. She
Exodus 2:1–10
saw the basket and instructed one of her maids to
bring it to her. As the Princess opened the basket,
the baby began to cry, and she had compassion for
the infant. Just then Miriam approached the Princess
and asked, “Shall I go and call a nurse of the Hebrew
women, that she may nurse the child for you?”
The Pharaoh’s daughter instructed her to go find a
Hebrew woman, and Miriam quickly brought her
mother back to the water’s edge. The Princess said,
“Take this child away to nurse it for me, and I will
pay you wages.”
God protected the child by providing safety in the
Hebrew home, through orders of the Pharaoh’s
daughter. When the child grew older, the mother
took him to the Princess as she was instructed.
The Princess raised him as her own son, naming him
Moses because she drew him out of the water.
Because of a mother’s love and a faithful God, Moses
was kept alive; he later became a servant to God and
a great leader of the Hebrew people.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Daniel’s Testimony of Faith
7
Daniel 6:1–28
As a young boy, Daniel had been taken captive
from Jerusalem and groomed to serve the king of
Babylon. He was a faithful servant to the king, but
never did he compromise his faith and devotion to
God. Daniel openly prayed daily to the God of Israel.
The king spoke to Daniel, saying, “Your God whom
you serve continually, He will deliver you.” Then a
stone was placed at the opening of the den, sealing
Daniel in the den with the lions. The king went to his
palace and fasted all night on Daniel’s behalf.
Daniel found favor in the eyes of the king and was
promoted to a high position within the kingdom.
First thing in the morning, the king went to the den
and cried out to Daniel, “Daniel, servant of the living
God, has your God whom you serve continually
been able to deliver you from the lions?”
However, several other men of high position
became jealous of Daniel and used the new king
Darius to set a trap that would sentence Daniel to
death.
These men came before the king and asked for a
decree stating that whoever presented a petition to
any god or man for thirty days, except to the
king, should be thrown into the den of lions. The
unsuspecting king was flattered and signed the
decree, which was designed to destroy Daniel.
When Daniel heard of the decree, he went to his
window, knelt down, and prayed to God as he had
always done. This time however the jealous men
were watching and ran to the king to remind him
of the decree, and the punishment. Then they told
the king, “That Daniel, who is one of the captives
from Judah, has no regard for you or for the decree
that you signed.” The king was upset with himself
and looked for a way to deliver Daniel from the
punishment. But at sundown the men came to the
king and reminded him that the decree could not be
changed, and the king commanded that Daniel be
thrown into the den of lions.
Daniel responded, “O king, live forever. My God sent
his angel and shut the lions’ mouths so that they
have not hurt me because I was innocent before
Him; and also, O king, I have done you no wrong.”
The king excitedly commanded that Daniel be taken
out of the den, and he commanded that those men
who had accused Daniel be cast into the den of
lions. Then the king wrote to all people, nations,
and languages that lived within his kingdom, a new
decree:
“I make a decree that in every dominion of my
kingdom men tremble and fear before the God
of Daniel, for He is the living God and steadfast
forever; His kingdom shall not be destroyed, and his
dominion shall endure to the end.”
Because of his faith in God, and because God was
faithful to protect him, the name of the Lord was
exalted throughout the kingdom. And Daniel
prospered under the reign of Darius, king of Persia.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Dorcas Comes to Life
In the city of Joppa there lived a woman named
Dorcas. She was a Christian—a follower of Jesus
Christ. Dorcas spent her days helping people. The
poor people and the widows especially loved her
because she was so good and kind to them.
One day Dorcas became very, very sick. Soon she
died.
Now it happened that Peter, a disciple of Jesus, was
preaching in a town nearby. The friends of Dorcas
had heard that Peter had done many wonderful
things in the name of Jesus. “Perhaps Peter could
help Dorcas even though she has already died,” the
friends said to each other.
So two men were sent to ask Peter to come to Joppa.
When Peter arrived, he was taken upstairs to the
room where Dorcas lay. Many of Dorcas’ friends were
already there. The poor people of Joppa were there,
too, crying and showing each other the warm coats
Dorcas had made for them.
“I want everyone to leave the room,” Peter said.
When everyone had gone, Peter knelt down and
prayed. He asked God to bring Dorcas back to life.
Then he turned to Dorcas and said, “Dorcas, get up.”
Dorcas opened her eyes. She looked at Peter for
a minute, and then she sat up. Peter took Dorcas
by the hand and led her to the door of the room.
“Come on in,” Peter called to the people who were
waiting downstairs. “Here is your friend Dorcas. She
has been raised from the dead in the name of Jesus.”
Jesus had gone back to Heaven, but He had not
forgotten the disciples; He had sent the Holy Spirit
just as He promised He would. The Holy Spirit gave
power to the disciples and many people were
turning to the Lord.
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8
Acts 9:36–43
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
First Things First
“Martha! Martha! Look who is coming!” Mary called!
Martha was excited, too, as she looked down the
road. Jesus was coming! Mary and Martha were
always happy to see Him come for a visit.
Mary and Martha were sisters. They and their
brother, Lazarus, lived in the little village of Bethany,
just east of Jerusalem, over the Mount of Olives.
Often, when Jesus came to Jerusalem, He stopped
to see them. They were His good friends.
But before Jesus reached the door, Martha began to
worry about lunch. “What will we feed Jesus?” she
wondered. “And look at the house! I must straighten
things up before He gets here.” Martha was so busy
cleaning and fixing and doing fussy things that she
hardly had time to say hello. But as soon as she did,
she quickly ran to the kitchen.
Mary didn’t care at all about lunch. She didn’t even
care if she ate lunch. To her the most important
thing in the world right now was to talk with Jesus.
She wanted to ask Him questions and listen while
He told about His home in heaven and His Father
who lived there.
9
Luke 10:38–42
Suddenly Martha realized that she was doing all the
work while Mary was doing nothing. The more she
fussed around with things, the more this bothered
her. At last she came into the room where Mary sat by
Jesus’ feet, listening carefully. “Lord, doesn’t it bother
You that my sister is letting me do all the work?” she
asked. It was a bit rude to ask this important guest
such a question, but she did it anyway.
One might think at this point Jesus would smile
and tell Mary to go help her sister get lunch. But
Jesus really didn’t care if He ate lunch either. He
thought it was much more important to tell Mary
the things she wanted to know. “Martha, Martha,”
Jesus answered. “You’re so busy and bothered doing
all those things. Don’t you see that Mary has chosen
what is most important? I will not take that away
from her.”
Nobody knows whether Martha went back to the
kitchen or sat down with Mary to listen to Jesus. But
she certainly learned that it is much more important
to listen to Jesus than to eat lunch. That is putting
first things first.
Martha rushed to and fro in the kitchen. She filled
this pot with water and stirred things in that one.
She clattered and banged things around without
hearing a word that Jesus said.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
10
Handel’s Messiah
Many years ago little George Frederick Handel loved
to go with his Aunt Anna to church in the German
town of Halle. She knew that the music of the
church carried George out of himself into a new and
wonderful world.
George was so full of music that he could not keep
still. He learned to play the organ and every other
instrument he could find. While still young he wrote
music and taught choirs and orchestras to sing
and play it. Sometimes this was good music, but
sometimes it was written so hurriedly that it was not
worthy of the little boy who dreamed of it.
As the years went on, sometimes Handel was
praised by music lovers in Italy, Germany, and
England; sometimes they refused to listen to him
or buy tickets for the concerts by which he made
his living. Sometimes he was the guest of kings and
cardinals; sometimes it seemed that nobody cared
whether he wrote another note.
In 1741, when he was fifty-six years old, everything
seemed against him. He had worked hard all his
life, paying no attention to his health. Now he was
terribly tired and crippled with rheumatism. Nobody
was asking him to write music. He had no money to
hire singers or a theater in which they could sing.
The world seemed to have forgotten him. For weeks
and months he wrote nothing.
Then one day in London a message came from a
friend. It was a collection of Bible verses arranged to
tell what the coming of Jesus means to the world.
Handel sat down, tired and discouraged, to read the
verses, knowing that his friend thought he could
write music for them. As he read, the feeling came
back that he used to have as a little boy, and his
heart overflowed with music praising God.
It was an old, old story that the verses told, but a
story that could be heard over and over without
wearing out. Handel knew that he must write music
that would make the story more beautiful than it
had ever been before.
For twenty-four days Handel did not leave home.
He scarcely left the room where he was writing.
His manservant sometimes brought food and set
it beside him, then came back later and saw that
Handel had not noticed it. Once this servant found
him, just after he had finished part of the oratorio
called the “Hallelujah Chorus,” sitting with tears
streaming down his cheeks, saying, “I thought I saw
all heaven before me and the great God Himself!”
It was seven months later that this oratorio, the
MESSIAH, was sung for the first time. Handel
treasured it so dearly that he did not wish to
have it sung in London, where people had not
been listening to his music. When he received an
invitation to go to Ireland, he took the new oratorio
with him. He waited for weeks while he found that
they liked his other music and while he had time to
train the choirs of two great cathedrals until they
could sing the music perfectly together.
The night came. The hall was crowded with people
who came to hear the music that had never been
heard before except in rehearsals. All over the hall
came the same feeling of wonder and worship that
the little George Handel had felt when his Aunt
Anna took him to hear the music.
“Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people, saith your God.”
Those who knew their Bible recognized the words
of the prophet Isaiah telling the children of Israel
that Someone was coming to lead them out of their
sorrows.
“Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain
and hill made low; the crooked straight, and the
rough places plain.” The song gave the words of
different prophets— Isaiah, Haggai, Malachi.
“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given:
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor,
the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince
of Peace.”
After the ringing chords giving the names of the
Child that the prophets of old said would be born,
the music turned suddenly soft and quiet. The
audience could see a hillside in Bethlehem.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Handel’s Messiah (continued)
“There were shepherds abiding in the field.” The
song told the story of the shepherds and the song
of the angels. The people listening felt they were out
on the hillside with the shepherds, listening to the
an-gels’ song: “Glory to God in the highest and on
earth peace, good will toward men.”
“Hallelujah! ... for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth!
... The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom
of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign
forever and ever, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords ...
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!”
Over and over the choirs sang the hallelujahs. More
and more the listening people felt the nearness of
God that the little George had felt in the church with
his Aunt Anna. They felt the nearness of God that
Handel had felt when he wrote the MESSIAH.
Later, when the oratorio was played in London, it
seemed perfectly natural for the whole audience,
including King George II, to stand when the
“Hallelujah Chorus” was played. Sometimes today
people say that we rise to our feet for that chorus
because an English King stood for it. We really stand
to pay respect to the King about whom the song is
written, the King who was born in Bethlehem.
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11
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
He Careth for You
12
I Kings 17
For quite some time there had been a drought in
Israel. There was no rain or dew, the fields could not
yield a harvest, and all the brooks had dried up. Even
the brook Cherith, beside which the prophet Elijah
had been dwelling, went dry. Elijah heard the word
of the Lord telling him what to do.
Marveling at Elijah’s words, but willing to believe
them, the woman went home and did what was
asked of her. She also prepared a room for Elijah in
her house, and all the time he remained in Zarephath,
Elijah stayed there. And all of them had plenty to eat,
for neither the bin nor the jar became empty.
“Arise, go to Zarephath,” God said, “and live there.
See, I have commanded a widow there to provide
for you.”
Then one day the woman’s son became sick, so sick
that he could not breathe. In her sorrow she chided
Elijah, for she thought she must have done some
great wrong to have such evil come to her as the
death of her son.
So Elijah went to the city. Approaching it, he saw a
woman gathering sticks. He called and asked her
to bring him a drink of water. As she went to get it,
he called to her again and asked her to bring him a
piece of bread. She turned to him, wondering who
this man was that did not seem to know there was
famine in the land.
“As the Lord your God lives,” she said, “I do not have
any bread, just a handful of flour in a bin and a little
oil in a jar. I am gathering a couple of sticks so that I
may go in and prepare it for myself and my son, that
we may eat it and die.”
“Do not fear,” Elijah said to her. “Go and do as you
have said. But make me a little bread from it first,
and bring it to me, and afterward make some for
yourself and your son. For thus says the Lord God
of Israel, ‘The bin of flour shall not be used up, nor
shall the jar of oil run dry, until the day that the Lord
sends rain on the earth.”’
“Give me your son,” Elijah said, and he gently took
the child from the woman’s arms and carried him
to his own room. Elijah laid the boy on the bed and
prayed to God. Then he stretched himself upon the
child, once, twice, three times, and never stopped
praying.
O Lord my God, I pray thee, let this child’s soul come
back into him,” Elijah said over and over. Then the
child began to breathe. He opened his eyes and,
seeing Elijah, smiled at him. Elijah carried the boy to
his mother, who was weeping.
“See, your son is living,” Elijah said as he stood the
boy on his feet beside her.
When she saw her son standing, strong and well, the
widow woman looked up at Elijah and said, “Now, by
this I know that you are a man of God, and that the
word of the Lord in your mouth is the truth.”
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
How Jesus Saved Peter and Others in the Storm
One evening Jesus was very tired. All day long He
had talked to the fathers, mothers, and children. He
had tried to help them in all their trouble and had
made many sick people well. Now it was evening.
One by one the stars came out and shone in the
dark sky. Most of the people had gone away. Only
Peter, John, and the other disciples stood and talked
with Jesus beside the lake.
Peter’s boat was pulled up on the shore where he
had left it in the morning when he had come from
fishing. “Come,” said Jesus, “Let us get into the water.”
Jesus had a pillow. Perhaps some father, mother, or
little child had seen how tired Jesus was and had
brought it to Him. As the boat sailed quietly out
across the lake, Jesus fell fast asleep with His head
resting on the little pillow. Peter and the others
talked together very softly so as not to wake Him.
But suddenly the wind began to blow. Harder and
harder it blew. It tossed the boat up and down on
the water. It splashed over, filling the boat, but Jesus,
His head on the pillow, was fast asleep. Peter and
the others began to work hard. They tried to empty
the water out of the boat, but as they worked other
big waves splashed over them, almost sending it
down. They worked harder; they were tired and wet
and cold, but Jesus was still fast asleep.
13
Mark 4:35–41
“We will drown!” cried Peter. “We cannot get the
water out of the boat. We’ll drown!” Frightened, they
held to the side of the boat, and the wind blew the
water higher and higher. “Master,” cried one of the
men, “Wake up; we’re drowning! Don’t you care that
we are in such great trouble?” Jesus heard, and He
woke up and came to them. He heard the angry
wind and saw Peter and the others, cold, wet, tired,
and afraid, holding fast to the boat filled with water.
Quietly, He reached His hands over the water and
spoke to it. “Peace!” He said. “Be still!” And to the
angry wind He said: “Be quiet; stop blowing. It is
Jesus who speaks to you!”
As Jesus spoke, suddenly the wind stopped blowing.
The lake was very still again, the storm was gone,
and the little boat sailed quietly over the lake. Then
Jesus turned to Peter and the others. “Why were
you so afraid?” He asked. “I was right here with you.
Didn’t you know that I would take care of you? You
don’t ever need to be afraid when I am with you.”
And the disciples said, “What a wonderful person He
is! Even the winds and the seas obey Him.”
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
14
If He Had Not Come
It was Christmas Eve, and after Bobby had carefully
hung his stocking by the fireplace he went off to bed.
Usually Bobby did not like to go to bed early, but
tonight he was eager to get to sleep so as to be sure to
wake up early to see his gifts.
For their Bible lesson that day, Bobby and his father
had read Jesus’ own words to His friends found in John
15:22. Five words had stayed in Bobby’s mind, and
he kept saying them over and over again until he fell
asleep.They were the words, “IF I HAD NOT COME.”
It seemed as if he had not been asleep any time when
a cross, harsh voice said: “Get up, get up, I tell you. It’s
time to get up.”
Thinking about the skates he wanted and the
flashlight and the motor and the books for which
he’d been wishing, Bobby got up and hurried into his
clothing and went downstairs. But all was still. No one
was there to greet him; no stocking hung beside the
fireplace; no wreaths were in the window; no splendid
tree was there.
Hurrying to the door, Bobby looked down the street.
The factory was open, and he could hear the rumble
of the machinery. He grabbed his cap and sweater and
raced down the street to the factory door, and there
stood a grim-looking foreman.
“What’s the factory running for on Christmas?” asked
Bobby.
“Christmas?” asked the man. “What do you mean? I
never heard that word. This is one of our busy days, so
you clear out of here.”
Filled with wonder, Bobby hurried on down the street
toward the stores, and to his amazement he found
them all open. The grocer, the dry-goods man, the
baker, each one was busy and cross, and each said in
reply to his question, “Christmas, what’s Christmas?”
When Bobby tried to explain, “It’s Christ’s birthday”
and that the first part of the word “Christmas” means
“Christ,” he was gruffly ordered to move along, as this
was a very busy day.
Going around the corner, he thought, “I’ll go to the
church, our own church, for there’s to be a Christmas
service there.” All at once Bobby stopped short before
a big vacant field and mumbled to himself, “I guess I’m
lost. I was certain our church was here. I know it was.”
Then he noticed a signboard in the center of the big
vacant lot, and coming closer he read the words, “IF I
HAD NOT COME.”
The puzzled boy was wandering gloomily along when
he thought of the box of toys and games his class had
sent to the Orphans’ Home, and he said half aloud, “I
guess I’ll go up to the Home and see the children get
their presents.” But when Bobby reached the place,
instead of seeing the name of the Home over the
gateway, he read these same five words, “IF I HAD
NOT COME,” and beyond the archway there was no
orphanage.
Seeing an old man, feeble and ill, by the roadside,
Bobby said “I guess you’re sick, Mister. I’ll run to the
hospital and tell them to send an ambulance for
you.” But when he reached the grounds, no splendid
building was to be seen, nothing but signs and posters
bearing the words, “IF I HAD NOT COME.”
As Bobby hurried back to the comer where the Rescue
Mission had been, he said, “I’m sure they’ll take the
poor old man in there, anyway.” But men with angry
faces were gambling and swearing. Over the door
Bobby saw, instead of the name of the mission, the
same words, “IF I HAD NOT COME.” Thinking still about
the poor old man, Bobby hurried home to ask his
father and mother to help him.
On his way across the living room, he wanted to up in
a Bible the words “IF I HAD NOT COME.” Turning past
the pages of the Old Testament, he found that there
was no new part. After Malachi all the pages were
blank, and as he held them up to the light, on each
one he saw a faint outline of the words “IF I HAD NOT
COME.”
With a sigh Bobby said, “Oh what a terrible world
this is-no Christmas, no churches, no homes for little
orphan children, no hospitals, no rescue missions, no
almshouses-nothing but jails and gambling houses and
police patrols and sickness and wrong and ...”
Just then there came the sound of bells. The chimes
were playing. Bobby listened and sure enough, it was
his favorite hymn, “Joy to the World, the Lord is Come,”
and then he heard his mother’s cheery voice saying,
“Wake up! Merry Christmas, Bobby!”
With a joyous bound Bobby was out of bed. Kneeling,
he said, “O Lord Jesus, I thank you that you did come,
and I’ll show you how thankful I am by always trying to
be the kind of boy you want me to be.”
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
In the Name of the Lord
David, the son of Jesse, had been chosen by God to
be the future king of Israel. But David was just a boy,
and it was not his time to be king, so he continued
at home, keeping charge of his father’s sheep.
Some time later, when David’s older brothers were
serving in the king’s army, David’s father asked him
to go see his brothers and take them food. While he
was with his brothers, David heard the challenge
that had come frequently to the Israelite army from
Goliath, the giant of the Philistine army: “Choose a
man for yourselves and let him come down to me. If
he is able to fight with me and kill me, then we will
be your servants. But if I prevail against him and kill
him, then you will be our servants.”
No one in all the camp of Israel rose to answer
Goliath, so the giant cried out again, “I defy the
armies of Israel this day. Give me a man, that we may
fight together.”
David was distressed that no one from the king’s
army answered the challenge, and he talked to his
brothers and the soldiers about it. At first David
angered the men, but then they realized this was
someone ready to accept Goliath’s challenge. They
informed King Saul about David, and the king sent
for him. David said to Saul, “Let no man’s heart fail
because of him. Your servant will go and fight with
this Philistine.
15
I Samuel 17:22–51
Saul said to David, “You are not able to fight against
this Philistine; for you are just a youth, and he is a
man of war.” David responded by telling Saul that
he had killed a bear and a lion while keeping his
father’s sheep, and he continued, “The Lord that
delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw
of the bear. He will deliver me from the hand of this
Philistine.”
Saul then said to David, “Go, and the Lord be with
you.” Saul gave David his own suit of armor, but it
was too heavy for the boy to wear. Instead, he chose
five smooth stones from the brook, and with his
sling in his hand, went forth to meet Goliath.
Seeing a boy approach to answer the challenge
angered Goliath, and he mocked David. David said
to him, “You come to me with a sword, and with a
spear, and with a javelin; but I come to you in the
name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of
Israel, whom you have defied.”
As the Philistine approached, David took a stone
from his bag and, using his sling, struck the
Philistine in the forehead. Goliath fell on his face to
the earth. Then, using the giant’s own sword, David
killed him. When the Philistine army saw that their
champion was dead, they fled.
That day David earned the respect of the Israelite
army and of King Saul when he went out and
defeated the enemy in the name of the Lord.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Jesus Brings a Little Girl Back to Life
One day when Jesus stood on the street, with a
great crowd of mothers, fathers, and little children
gathered around Him, a father came running down
the street and pushed through the crowd to Jesus.
“O Master,” he said, as he fell at Jesus’ feet, “My little
girl is very sick. The doctors say that she will not get
well. Will you come with me to see her? I know you
can help her.”
Tenderly, Jesus spoke to the father, whose name
was Jairus. “Yes, I will come,” He said, “I will go with
you now. Show me where you live.” They started
down the street toward Jairus’ house, but the people
crowded around Jesus. There were so many that
wanted Him. They could not let Him go.
One poor woman, ill for many years with a sickness
the doctors could not cure, tried to get through the
crowd to Jesus to look into His face or touch His
hand. But there were so many around Him that He
did not see her. Following behind Him, loving Him,
she reached through the crowd and softly, lovingly,
touched the hem of His garment. As she touched it,
a wonderful thing happened. Jesus knew she had
touched His clothes, so He turned and spoke to her.
He took her hand tenderly and told her He was glad
to help her. But as He waited to talk to her, a man
came running through the crowd to Jairus, who was
walking at Jesus’ side.
“Do not bother Jesus. It is too late now. He doesn’t
need to come; the little girl is dead.” Jesus heard, and
turning to the little girl’s father, said: “Don’t be afraid.
I can bring your little girl back to you even now.
Take me to her.” And quickly they passed through
the crowd to Jairus’ house. A crowd of neighbors
had already gathered around the door, for they had
heard that a little girl had died, and they had come
to comfort the poor mother.
16
Mark 5:21–24, 35–43
They stepped back as Jesus came. Some of them
knew Him. Often they saw Him go in and out of the
homes where there was trouble. “It is too late,” they
said to Him sadly as He passed by them going into
the house. “The little girl is dead. All the time, the
mother cries; you can do nothing for her.”
In the back room, they found the mother, her shawl
thrown over her head, moaning and crying to herself beside the little girl’s bed. Gently, Jesus touched
her. “Do not cry, mother,” He said; “your little girl
is not dead; she is only asleep. See, I have come! I
will help you. Do not cry so.” The neighbors came
crowding into the room, but He sent them all away.
Then He stood beside the bed where the little girl
lay very still and white, and took the little hand in
His. Softly He whispered her name. “Little maid,” He
called, “come!”
“She does not hear,” cried the mother, lifting her
head. “She will not come back to me any more. My
little girl is dead.” But the little girl had heard the
Lord Jesus call. As He watched, slowly the color
came back into her cheeks; slowly she opened her
eyes and looked straight into His. She smiled, and
then slowly she turned her head and laid her little
cheek, warm and rosy, against His hand. Gently He
turned to the father and mother. “Your little girl is
well,” He said. “Give her something to eat, and she
will feel stronger.” He lifted the little girl up, and
the mother caught her into her arms and held her
close. She was alive and well, and was talking to
her mother.
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17
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Jesus Healing the Blind Man
Mark 8:22–26
One day, on a street through which Jesus often
passed, there sat a blind man. He could not work
and earn money for his family, and so, because he
did not know any better way, every morning he
went out and sat in the street where the people
were passing by and asked them for pennies. All day
he sat with his back up against one of the houses
listening to people who could see as they went up
and down the street. He heard the fathers as they
went by on their way to work in the morning. He
heard the mothers as they went out into the street
to buy from the men selling fish and bread. He
heard the children as they ran past him in happy
play. “Oh,” he often thought, “If only I, too, could go
up and down the street as they do!”
The blind man thought a minute as the mother
hurried on with the rest. Perhaps Jesus could help
him too. “Jesus,” he cried, trying to stumble along
with the others, “help me; help me, too.”
One day as he sat listening, he heard shouting and
talking and tramping of feet as if a great many
people were passing by. He heard the little children
talking happily together as they ran along with the
rest. Reaching out his hand, he caught hold of a
mother’s shawl as she was passing by. “Tell me,” he
asked, “where are all these people going? Why is
there such a crowd?”
“O Jesus,” cried the blind man, “only help me so that I
can see as other people do.”
“Jesus is passing by,” the mother told him, “and all
the people follow because they love Him so. He
makes sick people well. He feeds the hungry people.
He is good to the poor and helps all who come to
Him. The children love Him, too; they are always
around Him.”
The people following Jesus turned and spoke
roughly to the beggar. “It is a shame to call after
Him,” they said. “Let Him pass.”
But the blind man only called louder, “Jesus, Jesus,
do not pass by; help me, too.”
Jesus heard and turning back, asked someone to
bring the blind man to Him. “How can I help you?”
He asked gently, as the dirty and ragged beggar
stood beside Him.
Tenderly Jesus touched his eyes, “Because you
called to me in your trouble, you shall see,” He said.
And suddenly the blind man could see the street,
the houses, the people, and most beautiful of all,
the face of Jesus as He looked tenderly at him. As
Jesus walked on down the street, the father, now no
longer a blind beggar, followed him with the rest,
so glad that Jesus had passed by that day and had
heard his call.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Jesus Healing the Two Blind Men
Do you remember the day that Jesus went to Jairus’
house and brought the little girl back to her father
and mother again? Do you remember how glad
they were? A great crowd of fathers, mothers and
children had gathered around the house, for they
had heard that a little girl had died there, and that
the mother was in the house crying. Some came
to try and comfort the poor mother. When Jesus
came out into the street again, they heard that the
little girl was not dead but alive and well, and that
in some wonderful way Jesus had brought her back
to the poor mother. They crowded around Him and
followed Him down the street.
In the crowd were two blind men. They walked
along slowly, feeling the way with their hands,
listening to the crowd as they talked about Jesus
and what He had done. All around them was
darkness. They could not see the street, the houses,
the people, the flowers, the trees, or the faces of
their own little children at home. How they wanted
to see! Perhaps some dreadful sickness had made
them blind, or perhaps they had gotten hurt in
some way at their work. If they could only get
to Jesus, they thought. But there was no one to
bring them, and He went faster than they could
go. Besides, they could not find their way to Him
through the crowd. “Jesus,” they called, stumbling
along, “wait for us! Oh, help us, too!”
18
Matthew 14:22–36
But there were so many in the crowd talking
together that Jesus did not hear them call. He was
stopping now; He was going into some house. The
blind men would go to Him there. They pushed
through the crowd, stumbling into the house, and,
feeling their way along the walls, came to Jesus.
“Jesus, we are blind; help us to see again!” they cried.
They could not see His face, but, oh, how
wonderfully sweet His voice sounded as He asked
tenderly, “Do you really believe that I can make you
see again?”
“Yes,” they answered softly. If they could only see
His face! In some way they felt that He loved them,
that He cared about them, and that because He
loved them He could make all things right. Gently
He touched their eyes, and suddenly they could
see. Beside them stood Jesus. They thought His
face was the most beautiful face in all the world.
Oh, how good to be able to see! Thanking Jesus,
they ran out into the crowd, and everywhere they
went, they told the people of Jesus and how He
had made them see again.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Jesus Walking on the Water
Do you remember the day that Jesus fed all the
hungry people from the two fishes and five little
loaves of bread? As it began to grow dark, little by
little, the mothers and fathers gathered the children
together and started around the lake toward
home. What a beautiful day it had been! Many little
children, whom the mothers had carried in their
arms because some dreadful sickness had twisted
the little legs or backs so that they could not walk,
now ran happily beside their mothers. Fathers that
had been blind could see now, and mothers who
had felt dreadful pain found that at Jesus’ touch the
pain had gone away. Tomorrow they would go out
again to find Him and to be near Him, the mothers
thought as they walked along.
Peter and John and the others who had come in the
boat with Jesus had already started back over the
lake toward home, but Jesus was not with them. He
was very tired from helping so many sick people all
day long, and he wanted to be alone for a little while
with His Father, to talk with Him about the work He
still had to do. He climbed up a hill a little way and
lay down to rest, looking up at the beautiful, shining
stars in the dark sky.
But suddenly the wind began to blow fiercer and
louder. It shook the trees and tossed the water in
the lake into great waves. Had Peter and the others
reached home yet? Jesus wondered. No, they were
out in the storm. Far across the lake He could see a
little boat tossed up and down in the water. Louder
and louder blew the wind. They would be frightened.
He would go to them and help them. Out He stepped
on to the water and right across the lake through
the fierce wind and the dreadful storm he walked to
save them. He was nearer now. He could see the little
boat almost covered with the big waves. He could
see Peter and the others trying to keep the water out
of the boat. Not far away little lights shone out from
the houses along the shore where the mothers and
babies were waiting for them.
19
Matthew 9:27–31
Perhaps, as Peter and the others thought of their
families, they worked the harder, but the wind blew
the little boat around. The wind was stronger than
the fathers’ strong arms. But Jesus was coming.
He was not far off now, and they saw Him coming,
walking across the water to them: “It is I; it is Jesus. I
am coming, Peter, John. Do not be afraid.”
Could it be Jesus? They had left Him on the hillside.
How could He have reached them through the
storm without a boat? “Jesus,” called Peter, “if it is
you, call me, and I will come to you.”
The wind blew loudly, and the boat rocked up and
down, but Peter heard Jesus call through the storm,
“Come,” and he stepped over the side of the boat
and out into the water and, with his eyes on Jesus’
face, walked to meet Him.
But suddenly the water rose around his feet, the
wind blew very hard, and Peter forgot to look at
Jesus. He was only looking at the water, and he
began to be afraid. “Jesus,” he cried, “hold me; I am
going down.”
Jesus heard. He was beside Peter now. He reached
out His hand and lifted him up. “Peter,” He said
sorrowfully, “why were you afraid? Didn’t you know
I was near you? Didn’t you know I could take care
of you?” Together they stepped into the boat, and
suddenly the wind stopped blowing, and the water
was very quiet, and the storm was over.
Early in the morning the little boat reached the
shore, but Peter and the others knew that it was
the Lord Jesus who had brought them safely back
through the storm to the mothers and little children
waiting for them at home.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
The Little Boy Who Gave His Lunch to Jesus
One day the sky was so blue and the fields were so
full of lovely flowers that a boy in the land where
Jesus lived thought that it would be a beautiful day
to take his lunch and walk way out into the fields
and over the hills, picking flowers and listening to
the birds. His mother wrapped two little fishes and
five little loaves of bread in a paper and, taking them
with him, he ran off toward the lake. But, as he came
near the lake, he saw a great crowd of people. Yes,
Jesus must be there. Perhaps they were bringing the
little sick children to Him and He was making them
well. Through the fields toward the lake the boy ran.
Yes, there was Jesus, but He was getting into a boat
with Peter and John. He was going away across the
lake. The little boy thought that He looked very tired.
The boy stood watching as the boat moved away.
“Come,” said some of the mothers and fathers to one
another, “let us follow Him. We can go through the
field, around the lake. We cannot let Him go.” They
started running, and the little boy followed them.
Some of the fathers were lame and could not walk
fast, and many sick mothers stumbled and fell by
the way, but on they went to find Jesus.
When Jesus stepped out of the boat on the other
shore, they were all waiting for Him. All day long He
stayed with them, making sick fathers and mothers
well, taking little children into His arms and helping
all who came to Him. All day the little boy stayed
close beside Him, watching Him as He took the little
sick children tenderly in His arms and made them
well. But it was beginning to get dark now. All day
the people had been with Jesus, and they had had
nothing to eat. “What shall we do?” Philip whispered
to Jesus. “Shall we tell them to go away?”
20
Mark 6:32–44
Jesus looked at the great crowd of fathers, mothers,
and little children, and He loved them. “No,” He said,
“do not send them away. We’ll take care of them.
We’ll give them something to eat.”
“But,” said Philip, “we have no lunch even for
ourselves, and there are no stores near where we can
buy anything. How shall we get anything to eat?” The
boy had been listening, and suddenly a glad thought
came to him. He would give Jesus the little lunch that
his mother had fixed for him. Quietly he whispered
about it to Andrew, and Andrew took the little bundle
from him and brought it to Jesus. Holding in His
hands the two little fishes and five loaves, Jesus called
to all the fathers, mothers, and little children to sit
down in circles all over the grass. Then, as the people
folded their hands and bowed their heads, out under
the trees among the flowers, Jesus said “thank you” to
His Father, just as we do at mealtime.
The little boy watching saw not just two fishes and
five loaves, but baskets and baskets full—as much
as the people could eat. Afterward, Jesus asked the
people to pick up all the crusts of bread so as to
keep the grass clean, or else that they might feed
the scraps to the hungry birds and animals ... and
there were twelve great baskets full of the crumbs.
The people did not understand the wonderful
thing that had happened, but they knew that Jesus
had fed them when they were hungry because He
loved them.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
The Little Lost Lamb
Once upon a time there was a shepherd who had a
hundred sheep. He loved every one and knew every one
by name. Every morning he opened wide the gate of the
little sheepfold, where they stayed at night, and gently
calling to the sheep, led them up the hillside where they
could find plenty of fresh, sweet grass to eat. They must
have water to drink, too. They were afraid to drink from
the streams where the water ran fast, and tumbled and
bubbled against the stones, so the shepherd would lead
them to some quiet little pool where the water was still
and they could drink and not be afraid.
All day the shepherd went before them, tapping his stick
on the ground to feel for any holes hidden in the long
grass, in which the little sheep might catch their feet and
stumble, and also scare away any big black snakes that
might try to bite at their feet as they passed. There were
great, steep places, too, over which the sheep might fall
and get hurt, and when they wandered near these places
the shepherd called gently and they came running to his
side. Often a baby sheep, called a lamb, would fall by the
way and get hurt, or grow tired from the long climb up
the hill, and the shepherd would pick it up and carry it
gently in his arms.
One day, as the sheep and the little lambs were feeding
on the hillside, the wind began to blow, great black clouds
rolled across the sky, and suddenly big drops of rain began
to fall. A bad storm was coming, the shepherd knew,
and he must get his sheep home before they became
frightened. “Little sheep, little sheep,” he called gently.
Running along, tumbling over one another, the sheep and
little lambs came, and down the hill they followed the
shepherd. As they reached the door of the sheepfold, he
stepped to one side to let them pass through, counting
them as they went. “One, two, three, four,” the shepherd
counted, laying his hand gently on each little woolly back,
as the sheep pattered by— “ninety-seven, ninety-eight,
ninety-nine”—but that was all.
One little sheep was missing. One little sheep had been
left behind in the cold and rain. Just then a big, white
mother sheep came close to the shepherd and, looking
up into his face, said “Baa, Baa.”
“What is it Snowball?” the shepherd asked. “What
troubles you?” “Baa, baa,” said the mother sheep again.
21
Luke 15:3–7
Then the shepherd knew. “Is it Blackie, Snowball? Is it
your baby that is lost?”
Yes, it was Blackie. The little black lamb, Snowball’s
baby, was not in the sheepfold with the others. He must
have been left behind in the storm. Perhaps he had not
listened to the shepherd’s voice and had wandered away
and fallen into some deep hole.
Outside the wind blew, and the rain fell faster and faster,
but the shepherd buttoned his overcoat around him and,
lighting a lantern so that he could find the path better,
opened the gate of his sheepfold, and went up the hill in
the storm to find the little lost lamb. “Little sheep, little
sheep,” he called as he climbed over the hill, swinging his
lantern. But no little sheep answered his call. Up the hill he
went. He stumbled and fell in the darkness, and his hands
and feet were cut on the sharp stones. He was cold and
wet and tired, but still he walked on, calling softly, “Blackie,
little sheep, little sheep.” What was that he heard? Through
the noise of the wind and the rain, away off somewhere
the shepherd heard a very faint little “Baa.”
Oh, how gladly he ran over the stones to find the little
lost lamb! “Little sheep, little sheep,” he called. “Baa” came
the little cry again, nearer this time. There, caught fast in
a deep hole, the lamb looked up into the shepherd’s face.
“Baa,” he said. One little leg was broken and he could not
move it. Gently the shepherd lifted the little lamb in his
arms and, wrapping his overcoat around him, he started
to find his way back to the sheepfold in the storm. The
shepherd did not know that his face had been cut when
he fell on the sharp stones and was bleeding. He did
not know that his shoes had been torn from his feet. He
knew only that he had found the little sheep he loved,
and he was very, very glad.
As he opened the gate of the sheepfold, all was still. The
sheep were fast asleep in the hay. Only Snowball was
watching. She ran to the shepherd’s side, and he put
little Blackie down beside her. Then tenderly he carried
the little lamb into the house, where he bound up the
broken leg and gave him some warm milk to drink.
After a while the little lamb grew well again and could
go up the hill each morning with the others to eat the
fresh, sweet grass, but he always kept very close to the
shepherd and ran quickly when he heard him calling.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
A Much Better Gift
“Alms for the poor! Alms for the poor!”
The poor man sat by the gate that led into the Temple
of Jerusalem. He was crippled, and at that time
crippled people could not find a job. It was hard for
even a strong, healthy man to find enough work to
feed his family. So a crippled man, like a blind or deaf
man, almost always had to become a beggar.
That was the way he did it. All day he sat by a gate
or beside a road and asked people for “alms,” gifts of
money for himself and his family.
“Alms for the poor!” he cried out when Peter and
John entered the Temple. It was three o’clock in the
afternoon, a time when people went to the Temple
for prayer.
22
Acts 3:1–11
Slowly the beggar looked up at Peter. His eyes
looked into Peter’s eyes. Then he slowly held out his
hand for the coin he thought Peter would give him.
“I have no silver or gold coins to give you,” Peter said
quietly. The man’s eyes dropped again. He was ready
to start crying out for alms.
“But I have a much better gift,” Peter went on. “In the
name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!”
As he said this, Peter reached out his hand and lifted
the man up to his feet. The man trembled as he
stood, but suddenly he felt strength coming into
his legs. He took one step forward, then two, then
walked about, shouting with joy. Before long he was
leaping about as though he had never been crippled.
Most of the people passed by the beggar without
giving him a thing. After all, this fellow had been
sitting here by the gate each day for many years.
Some days they gave him a coin, and some days
they didn’t.
“Praise God!” he shouted. “Praise God for healing me!”
Peter and John stopped. Peter stared at him, while
the man kept on crying out for alms.
“Praise God!” he kept on shouting.
Suddenly the man realized that Peter was staring at
him. He stopped his noisy cries. But he would not
look into Peter’s eyes.
Imagine how surprised the people in the Temple
were when this man ran through the courtyards,
shouting and leaping as he went.
He had expected a coin from Peter and John. But
the gift he received was a much better gift! That’s
the way God does things when we are willing to
receive His better gifts.
“Look at me!” Peter commanded.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
One Who Said “Thank You” to Jesus
Once upon a time in the days when Jesus lived
with fathers and mothers and little children, down
the street in a little home lived a mother and a wee
baby. One day the father came down with a dreadful
sickness. The doctors came, but they could not make
him well; for he had a sickness called leprosy. He
would never get better, but instead each day the great
sores on the father’s legs and arms would grow worse.
And because the mother and baby and the other
people on the street would catch the sickness from
him, he must go away and never come back again.
Outside the city in the fields, where no one lived
and not many people passed by, he could stay and
build himself a little house from stones he found
in the road. There were others there with the same
sickness. The father could stay with these, but he
must never, never touch the mother or the baby
again; for if he did, he might give them the sickness,
too. So one day, the father said goodbye and went
to live alone out in the fields. He could not kiss the
baby goodbye. He must not even touch its little
hand. Every morning the mother would take a little
bowl of soup or something she had cooked that day
and leave it with a piece of bread out in the field
for the father. She would call to him, and he would
come and stand far off and look at her. Then, when
she was gone, he would come out and get the food
she had left for him and go away.
Often the mother thought of the father out in the
fields all alone, in the cold or the rain with no one to
take care of him, and she wished, oh, so much that
he might come home! And the father, living out in
the field day after day, wished so much to see the
mother and the baby again.
There were other sick fathers and mothers, too, who
lived in the field, and often they would sit and talk
together. One day one of them said that particular
morning the little boy who had brought his lunch
to him had told of a great Doctor who was going
down the streets into the homes, making all the sick
people well. And yet He was greater than a doctor,
because He did things that doctors could not do.
He was glad to help mothers and fathers in all sorts
of ways. He taught them how to be good, and he
23
Luke 17:11–19
took little children into His arms and blessed them.
Perhaps this great Doctor would help them, too. But
they could not go into the city to find Him, and He
might never pass their way. Few people cared to
pass along where the sick lepers lived, for they were
afraid that they might catch the sickness, too. But
this great Friend of mothers and fathers and little
children was different, the little boy said. He would
come to all who needed Him. The name of the great
Doctor, he said, was Jesus.
For many days, the sick lepers talked about Him,
wondering if they would ever see Him. One day, as
the father sat with nine others on the grass, one of
them jumped up with a glad cry. “Look!” he said,
pointing down the road. “This must be Jesus. He
is coming. He is passing by.” Oh, how gladly they
would have run to Him and begged Him to make
them well, but they knew that because they had
leprosy, they must not go near. So they stood far off
and called to Him. “Jesus, do not pass us by; we pray
that you will make us well again, so that we can go
back to our homes, to the mothers and children.”
There was no sickness or trouble that Jesus could
not cure. Gently He spoke to them. “Go into the city,
and as you go, you shall be well and strong again.”
They started running, and as they went, suddenly
they felt the old sickness leaving them. The sores
went away. Jesus had made them well. How gladly
they ran on toward their homes to see the mothers
and children and take them in their arms again. Only
one man turned back. He, too, thought of his wife
and baby back home, but first he must find Jesus
and thank Him for taking the dreadful sickness away
from him.
Jesus was glad that the man came back to say
“thank you” but seemed a little sad, as He asked, “But
where are the nine others? They were made well,
too. Did they forget?” They were so glad to get home
to the mothers and babies that they had forgotten
to say “thank you” to Jesus, who made them well.
Only the one man had remembered. Now with a
glad heart, he turned back to go home to be with
his family and friends again.
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24
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Samaritan on the Road
One day a man tried to trick Jesus with some
questions. He was an expert on religious law. He
wanted Jesus to say the wrong thing about the law
so that people would not follow Him.
“What must I do to live forever?” the man asked.
“You should know the answer to that,” Jesus replied.
“What do you find in the law?”
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul,
strength, and mind. Love your neighbor as much as
you love yourself,” the man replied.
“You have given the right answer to your own
question,” Jesus told him. “If you do this, you will live
forever.”
But the man still wanted to trick Jesus. So he asked
another question.
“Who is my neighbor?” he asked.
Jesus then told this story to answer the man’s
question:
“One of our own Jewish men was traveling on the
road from Jerusalem to Jericho when he was attacked
by robbers. They took his clothes and money, beat
him up, and left him half dead by the road.
Luke 10:25–37
“After that, a Samaritan came down the road. As you
know, you people all hate the Samaritans. But when he
saw this poor man lying beside the road, he felt sorry
for him. He knelt down, put some medicine on his
wounds, and bandaged them. Then he laid the man
carefully on his donkey and took him to an inn.
“The Samaritan stayed with this poor injured man until
he was sure that he was all right. The next day he gave
the innkeeper two coins, worth two days’ wages, and
told him to take care of the man while he was gone.
“’If you must spend more to get this fellow well, I
will pay you when I return,‘ the Samaritan told the
innkeeper.”
When Jesus had finished His story, He looked at the
expert in Jewish law, who had tried to trick Him.
“Which of these three men was a good neighbor to the
injured man?”
“The one who was kind to him and helped him,” the
man answered.
“Then you must go and be that kind of neighbor
too,” Jesus told him.
“Not long after that, one of our own priests came along
the road. When he saw this injured man lying there, he
passed by on the other side of the road. Then a Levite,
who helps in our Jewish religious work, came by. He
took one look at the poor man, then went on his way.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Samuel: Born to Serve
For years, Hannah had been praying for a son. Then
one day she promised God that if He would give her
a son, she would give him back to the Lord to serve
Him all his life. Within a year Hannah gave birth to a
son; she named him Samuel.
When Samuel was three years old, Hannah
presented him to Eli, the priest, and said, “For this
child I prayed, and the Lord has granted my petition.
Therefore I have lent him to the Lord; as long as
he lives, he shall be lent to the Lord.” So Samuel
remained with Eli, who taught him to minister to the
Lord in the temple, and every year his mother came
to visit him.
It was several years later when, one night after
Samuel had gone to bed, the Lord called to him.
Thinking it was Eli calling, Samuel answered, “Here
I am;” and ran to see Eli. But Eli said “I didn’t call; lie
down again.” And so he did. Then the Lord called
Samuel again, and he went in to Eli and said, “Here I
am, for you called me.” Again, Eli said he did not call
and told Samuel to go lie down.
25
1 Samuel 1–3
Samuel did lie down again, and the Lord came
and stood, and called as before, “Samuel, Samuel.”
And Samuel answered, “Speak; for your servant
hears.” And the Lord spoke to him and revealed the
troubles that would come against the home of Eli
because of Eli’s evil sons.
As Samuel awoke the next morning and fulfilled his
duties, he was afraid to tell Eli about the vision that
the Lord had given him because he didn’t want to
hurt the old man. But soon Eli called Samuel, and he
responded, “Here I am,” and went in to see him. Eli
asked, “What did the Lord say to you? Please don’t
hide it from me.” And Samuel told him everything
and hid nothing from him.
“It is the Lord,” said Eli; “Let Him do what seems good
to Him.”
And Samuel grew, and the Lord was with him, and
all of Israel knew that Samuel was destined to be a
prophet of the Lord.
After Samuel went back to bed, the Lord called him
a third time. And Samuel rose and went to Eli and
said “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli realized
that it was the Lord who spoke, and he told Samuel,
“Go, lie down; and if He calls you, say, ‘Speak Lord,
for your servant hears.’”
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26
Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
A Son Comes Home
A certain father had two sons, and the youngest of
them was not content with living at home. This young
man was sure he could do better for himself out in the
world, on his own, and he was eager to leave his family
to begin a new life.
One day he said to his father, “Father, give me
the part of your inheritance that belongs to me.”
Fulfilling his son’s request, the father divided his
belongings and gave the young man his share.
Several days later, the son had gathered all his
belongings and left home to live as he wished. He
traveled a long distance, into another country. There
he became involved in a riotous, wild lifestyle that
seemed pleasurable to him for the time.
But as time passed, the son’s money and supply of
goods began to run low, and there was no one to
Luke 15:11–24
While he was still a distance from the house, the
father saw his son and ran to him, hugging and
kissing him and welcoming him home.
“I have sinned against heaven and in your sight, and
I am no longer worthy to be called your son,” the
young man said.
But the father called for his servants to bring clean
clothes, the very best robe, and shoes for his son’s
feet and a ring for his hand. Then the father planned
a welcome celebration. “For my son was dead and is
alive again. He was lost and is found,” he said.
And just as the father rejoiced over the return of his
lost son, our Heavenly Father rejoices over a lost soul
that comes to Him.
give him any more. Still he continued in his sinful,
reckless way of living until the day when he had
nothing left, and his clothing, was rags. Moreover,
there was a terrible famine in the land, and it was
difficult to find food. Neither did he have a place to
live or a bed for rest.
He needed to work, but work was hard to find.
Eventually a man gave him a job, feeding pigs. The
son was so hungry, he willingly would have eaten
the corn husks he was feeding to the pigs, but they
were not offered to him. One day, in desolation, the
young man realized that even his father’s servants
had plenty to eat and some left over while he
himself was starving. He decided to go back to his
father and ask forgiveness for all he had done, and
he left the faraway country and headed for home.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Songs That Opened Prison Doors
One Sabbath morning two men named Paul and Silas
were in a city called Philippi. There was no church
building there, but they looked for a place where
people were worshiping God. Down on the banks of
the river, they found some Jewish women who met
there every Sabbath to pray. As his custom was, Paul
talked to them about the Lord Jesus. A woman named
Lydia believed Paul’s message and became a Christian.
As Paul was a stranger in the city, Lydia insisted that he
make her house his home while he was there.
Now in that town lived a young woman who was not
in her right mind. She could talk in such a queer way
that the people who worshiped idols said that the
gods spoke through her. They could come to find out
what was going to happen to them in the future, or
get her to tell them where to find things that they had
lost. When they came to her, she would have a spell of
some kind, and mumble queer things, and then the
men who owned her—for she was a slave girl—would
pretend to know what she meant and would tell the
people. Everyone who came had to pay something, so
the girl’s masters made a great deal of money.
One day this girl saw Paul and his companions, and
in some way the girl knew that these men were
different from others. She followed them along the
street, screaming out: “These men are servants of the
Most High God. They proclaim the way of salvation.”
Day after day this happened until finally one day Paul
turned and commanded the evil spirit to come out
of her. Immediately, she was healed. No longer did
she mumble strange sayings. But when her masters
saw how she was, they knew that she could no longer
make money for them. They were furious. How dare
this man do this thing! So they attacked Paul and Silas
and began to stir up the people against them.
Now Philippi was not a Jewish city, and the Jews
were not well liked because they seemed strange to
people who worshiped the heathen gods. So these
men said: “These Jews are coming here and making
trouble for our city, and they are saying things against
our laws.” In a little while they stirred up a mob that
seized Paul and Silas and dragged them before the
rulers of the city. Without waiting for a trial, without
giving Paul and Silas an opportunity to say a word, the
rulers commanded that the two men be beaten with
27
Acts 16:16–40
rods and thrown into prison. They ordered the jailer
to guard them well. The command was obeyed, and
with backs bleeding from the terrible blows, Paul and
Silas were put into the inner prison, and their feet were
fastened in the stocks.
Night came, but Paul and Silas couldn’t sleep. Their
backs were raw and bleeding, and with their feet in
such an uncomfortable position, sleep was impossible.
The cell was dark and damp. They were in great
trouble. After a while Paul and Silas began singing
hymns and praying in their prison cell.
Suddenly at midnight their singing stopped. A great
earthquake shook the building, and strange things
happened. The prison doors swung open, but the
prisoners were too frightened to escape. The jailer
thought they had gone. He was about to kill himself,
because in those days the jailer would be killed if his
prisoners escaped. But as he drew his sword, a voice
called through the darkness, “Don’t harm yourself, for we
are all here.” It was Paul and Silas talking, and the jailer
couldn’t believe it. He called for a light and sprang into
the jail to see whether it was so. And it was! He dropped
on his knees before the two men, his prisoners, and
said: “What must I do to be saved?” And they answered,
“Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved.” The
jailer believed and was baptized. Then he washed the
wounds of Paul and Silas and gave them food.
The story traveled fast. When the rulers of the town
heard it, they were frightened, and early in the
morning they sent word to the jailer that the men
were to be set free. But Paul and Silas had not been
tried in a fair way, and Paul wasn’t going to sneak off.
He said: “If the rulers want us to go, they can come and
take us out so that people will know that they set us
free.” The rulers did come, and they asked the men to
leave not only the prison but the town as well. After
spending a short time in Lydia’s home, talking to the
Christians, Paul and Silas left Philippi to go to another
city to tell the people about Jesus.
No doubt the jailer became a member of the church
that Paul and Silas had started at Philippi. Many years
later, Paul wrote a beautiful letter to that church.
Today, you can read it in your Bible. It is called the
letter to the Philippians.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
The Tax Collector
People whispered when they saw Levi walking to
work. They frowned as they watched him sit down at
his booth by the Sea of Galilee.
Levi was a tax collector. He worked for the Romans,
and the Romans ruled Levi’s people, the Jews.
Many hated him. He charged more than he should
and kept much for himself, as most tax collectors
did. Levi’s only friends were the other tax collectors.
None of his neighbors would invite him to dinner or
go to his house to eat.
Levi had one other friend. His name was Jesus.
Whenever Jesus walked by Levi’s booth, He stopped
to talk. He may often have told Levi how God loved
him and why He had come to earth and how Levi
could follow Him. Levi always listened carefully to
Jesus. He wanted to follow Jesus. But he would have
to give up his job, which brought him much money.
He also wondered if his tax collector friends would
stop being his friends. Levi always had some weak
excuse for not following Jesus. Sometimes he would
say, “Tomorrow,” but by the next day it was even
harder to leave his well-paying job and his friends.
One day Levi saw Jesus coming. He came straight up
to Levi’s tax booth. He smiled and greeted Levi and
looked into his eyes.
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Mark 2:13–15
Levi’s heart began to pound. What excuse could he
give today? How could he leave this well-paying
job? What would his friends say if he did? Would
they stop being his friends? Suddenly he realized
that it was much more important to follow Jesus
and be His friend. Without a word, Levi put the
money away. He closed up his tax booth. Someone
else could work for the Romans now!
Then Levi looked at his tax collector friends, who by
this time had gathered closer to see what he was
doing. “I’m going to follow Jesus from now on,” he
told them. “I want you to keep on being my friends.
And I want you to be Jesus’ friends, too.”
Levi invited all his friends to his house for dinner. He
also invited Jesus. Perhaps He could talk with them
and help them follow Him. Levi knew that he would
follow Jesus even if his friends stopped being his
friends.
The people in the crowd certainly looked surprised
as they saw Levi and Jesus walking together toward
Levi’s house. They were even more surprised as they
saw Levi’s tax collector friends going in, too.
The tax booth looked strange and empty now.
Levi had found something—Someone—far more
important than that.
“Follow Me!” Jesus said.
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Student Activities 5th–6th Grade Dramatic Bible Prose Handbook
Two Cousins Chosen by God
Luke 1:26–45
One day God sent His angel Gabriel down to the
home of an Israelite girl named Mary. “I have a very
important message for you from God,” the angel said.
“The Lord God has blessed you above all women.”
“How I thank God for choosing me!” Mary said.
“Do you know, an angel came and brought me the
But when Mary saw the angel and heard him speak to
her, she was frightened! So the angel said, “Do not be
afraid, Mary. God has chosen you to be the mother of
His Son. You shall give Him the name Jesus. He will be
very great and will rule over Israel forever.”
“No,” said Elizabeth. “But an angel did come to see
my husband, Zechariah. He told Zechariah that we
would have a baby son. We are to name him John. He
will tell people to get ready because God’s Son—for
whom we have waited so long—is coming at last!”
“But I do not understand,” said Mary. “Joseph and I
are not yet married.”
“I’m sure Zechariah was very happy to hear this,”
said Mary.
The angel announced, “With God nothing is
impossible.”
“Zechariah couldn’t believe it,” Elizabeth answered.
“He asked the angel to give him a sign. The angel
told him that he would not be able to speak until
the day the baby is born. So Zechariah cannot talk,
but now he does believe. And he is just as happy
and excited as I am.”
When Mary heard this, she bowed her head. “I am
very happy to be the servant of God,” she said,
“Whatever He wants me to do, I will do it gladly.”
“There is also happy news for your cousin, Elizabeth,”
said the angel. “Even though she is old, she too will
have a baby son.” Then, just as suddenly as he had
come, the angel disappeared.
Mary was happy and excited, but she was worried, too.
If she told people what had happened, would anyone
believe her? “I know what I’ll do,” Mary thought, “I’ll go
and visit my cousin Elizabeth. She is very wise. And she
will be as excited as I am, for she has given up all hope
of ever having a baby of her own.”
good news. Did an angel come to you, too?”
Mary stayed with Elizabeth for three months. But
finally the time came for her to go back home. “I am
so happy for you, Elizabeth,” Mary said as she left.
“You thought you were too old to be a mother. But
now your greatest wish is coming true.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth, “God has greatly blessed us
both. But you, Mary, are the most blessed, for your
baby is the Son of God!”
When Elizabeth heard Mary’s voice outside the
door, she ran to meet her. “Mary!” she cried. “I know
all about your baby! Just think, my own cousin was
chosen to be the mother of God’s Son!”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
2ND–4TH GRADE
FABLES AND FOLKLORE
Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
The Ants and the Grasshopper 4
Belling the Cat 4
The Boy and the Nuts 5
The Boy Who Cried Wolf 5
Chicken Little 6
The Country Mouse and the City Mouse 7
The Fox and the Crow 8
George Washington and the Cherry Tree 8
The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs 9
The Honest Woodman 10
The Lion and the Mouse 11
The Little Plant 11
The Little Red Hen 12
Little Sunshine 13
The Milkmaid 14
The Old Hound 14
The Sheep and the Pig Who Built a House 15
Someone Sees You 16
Why the Deer Has Antlers 17
Please note: These are not required speeches, but examples of
acceptable material. Comparable pieces may be chosen from other
sources if approved by school coordinator, and the teacher may compose
a moral application for the student to present.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
2
Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International
3
4
Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
The Ants and the Grasshopper
The ant, like the bee, has long been held up as a
paradigm of industriousness. Proverbs 6:6-8 says,
“Go to the ant, you sluggard! Consider her ways
and be wise which, having no captain, overseer
or ruler, provides her supplies in the summer, and
gathers her food in the harvest” (NKJV).
One fine day in winter some ants were busy
drying their store of corn, which had become
damp during a long spell of rain. Presently,
a grasshopper came up and begged them
to spare her a few grains. “For,” she said, “I’m
simply starving.”
The ants stopped work for a moment, though
this was against their principles. “May we ask,”
said they, “what you were doing with yourself all
last summer? Why didn’t you collect a store of
food for the winter?”
“The fact is,” replied the grasshopper, “I was so
busy singing that I hadn’t time.”
“If you spent the summer singing,” replied the
ants, “you can’t do better than spend the winter
dancing.” And they chuckled and went on with
their work.
—Aesop
Belling the Cat
Some little mice, who lived in the walls of a
house, met together one night to talk of the
wicked cat, and to consider what could be done
to get rid of her. The head mice were Brown-back,
Grey-ear, and White-whisker.
When they were quiet again, Brown-back asked,
“But who will hang the bell around her neck?”
“There is no comfort in the house,” said Brownback. “If I but step into the pantry to pick up a
few crumbs, down she comes, and I hardly have
time to run to my nest again.”
“I don’t think I can,” replied White-whisker. “I am
lame, you know. It needs someone who can
move quickly.”
“What can we do?” asked Grey-ear. “Shall we all
run at her at once and bite her, and frighten her
away?”
“Excuse me,” answered Grey-ear. “I have not been
well since that time when I was almost caught in
the trap.”
“No,” said White-whisker. “She is so bold we could
not frighten her. I have thought of something
better than that. Let us hang a bell around her
neck. Then, if she moves, the bell will ring, and we
shall hear it and have time to run away.”
“Who will bell the cat, then?” said Brown-back. “If
it is to be done, someone must do it.”
“O yes! yes!” cried all the mice. “That is a
wonderful idea. We will bell the cat! Hurrah!
Hurrah! No more fear of the cat!” And they
danced in glee.
No one answered. “Will you?” he asked Whitewhisker.
“Will you, Grey-ear?” said Brown-back.
Not a sound was heard, and one by one the little
mice stole away to their holes, no better off than
they were before.
—From Beka Reading Series
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
The Boy and the Nuts
One good, practical reason for controlling our
cravings is that if we grasp for too much, we may
end up getting nothing at all.
A little boy once found a jar of nuts on the table.
“I would like some of these nuts,” he thought.
“I’m sure Mother would give them to me if she
were here. I’ll take a big handful.” So he reached
into the jar and grabbed as many as he could
hold.
But when he tried to pull his hand out, he found
that the neck of the jar was too small. His hand
was held fast, but he did not want to drop any
of the nuts.
He tried again and again, but he couldn’t get the
whole handful out. At last he began to cry.
Just then his mother came into the room.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I can’t take this handful of nuts out of the jar,”
sobbed the boy.
“Well, don’t be greedy,” his mother replied. “Just
take two or three, and you’ll have no trouble
getting your hand out.”
“How easy that was,” said the boy as he left the
table. “I should have thought of that myself.”
—Aesop
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
This may be Aesop’s most famous fable, and for
good reason. The fastest way to lose our “good
reputation” is to lose our honesty.
There was once a shepherd boy who kept his
flock at a little distance from the village. Once
he thought he would play a trick on the villagers
and have some fun at their expense. So he ran
toward the village crying out, with all his might:
“Wolf! Wolf! Come and help! The wolves are at
my lambs!”
The kind villagers left their work and ran to the
field to help him. But when they got there, the
boy laughed at them for their pains; there was
no wolf there.
Still another day the boy tried the same trick,
and the villagers came running to help and were
laughed at again.
Then one day a wolf did break into the fold and
began killing the lambs. In great fright, the boy
ran back for help. “Wolf! Wolf!” he screamed.
“There is a wolf in the flock! Help!”
The villagers heard him, but they thought it
was another mean trick. No one paid the least
attention or went near him. And the shepherd
boy lost all his sheep.
That is the kind of thing that happens to people
who lie. Even when they do tell the truth, they
will not be believed.
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—Aesop
Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
6
Chicken Little
Mark Twain once said he had known a lot of
troubles in his life, and most of them never
happened. We imagine many of our fears into
existence. To avoid foolish cowardice, refrain from
too much mountain making out of molehills.
Courage, said Plato, is knowing what to fear.
Chicken Little was in the woods one day when
an acorn fell on her head. It scared her so much
she trembled all over. She shook so hard, half
her feathers fell out.
“Help! Help!” she cried. “The sky is falling! I must
go tell the king!” So she ran in great fright to tell
the king.
Along the way she met Henny Penny. “Where
are you going, Chicken Little?” Henny Penny
asked.
“Oh, help!” Chicken Little cried. “The sky is
falling!”
“How do you know?” asked Henny Penny.“Oh! I
saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my
own ears, and part of it fell on my head!”
“This is terrible, just terrible!” Henny Penny
clucked. “We’d better run.” So they both ran
away as fast as they could. Soon they met Ducky
Lucky. “Where are you going, Chicken Little and
Henny Penny?” he asked.
“The sky is falling! The sky is falling! We’re going
to tell the king!” they cried.
“How do you know?” asked Ducky Lucky. “I saw
it with my own eyes, and heard it with my own
ears, and part of it fell on my head,” Chicken
Little said.
“Oh dear, oh dear!” Ducky Lucky quacked. “We’d
better run!” So they all ran down the road as fast
as they could. Soon they met Goosey Loosey
waddling along the roadside.
“Hello there, Chicken Little, Henny Penny, and
Ducky Lucky,” called Goosey Loosey. “Where are
you all going in such a hurry?” “We’re running for
our lives!” cried Chicken Little.
“The sky is falling!” clucked Henry Penny. “And
we’re running to tell the king!” quacked Ducky
Lucky.
“How do you know the sky is falling?” asked
Goosey Loosey.
“I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my
own ears, and part of it fell on my head,” Chicken
Little said.
“Goodness!” squawked Goosey Loosey. “Then
I’d better run with you.” And they all ran in great
fright across a meadow.
Before long they met Turkey Lurkey strutting
back and forth.
“Hello there, Chicken Little, Henny Penny, Ducky
Lucky, and Goosey Loosey,” he called. “Where are
you going in such a hurry?”
“Help! Help!” cried Chicken Little.
“We’re running for our lives!” clucked Henny
Penny.
“The sky is falling!” quacked Ducky Lucky.
“And we’re running to tell the king!” squawked
Goosey Loosey.
“How do you know the sky is falling?” asked
Turkey Lurkey.
“I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my
own ears, and part of it fell on my head,” Chicken
Little said.
“Oh dear! I always suspected the sky would fall
someday,” Turkey Lurkey gobbled. “I’d better run
with you.”
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
So they all ran with all their might, until they
met Foxy Loxy.
“Well, well,” said Foxy Loxy. “Where are you
rushing on such a fine day?”
“Help! Help!” cried Chicken Little, Henny Penny,
Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, and Turkey Lurkey.
“It’s not a fine day at all. The sky is falling, and
we’re running to tell the king!”
“How do you know the sky is falling?” said Foxy
Loxy.
“I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my
own ears, and part of it fell on my head,” Chicken
Little said.
“I see,” said Foxy Loxy. “Well then, follow me, and
I’ll show you the way to the king.”
So Foxy Loxy led Chicken Little, Henny Penny,
Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, and Turkey Lurkey
across a field and through the woods. He led
them straight to his den, and they never saw the
king to tell him the sky was failing.
—Traditional
The Country Mouse and the City Mouse
A mouse from the city went on a visit to a friend
in the country.
The country mouse brought out the best he had
and waited on his guest.
There was plenty of oatmeal and peas, a nice
scrap of bacon, and even a piece of cheese for
dessert. While the guest was dining, the country
mouse, out of politeness, would eat none of
these dainties for fear there would not be
enough. He just nibbled a piece of straw to keep
his guest company.
When the dinner was over, the city mouse said,
“Old friend, I thank you for your courtesy, but
I must have a plain talk with you. I do not see
how you can bear to live this poor life in a hole.
Why not come with me to the city where you
will have all sorts of good things to eat and have
a gay time? You are really wasting your life in
this quiet place. Come with me, and I will show
you how fine the city is.”
After being urged a long time, the country
mouse at last agreed to go to the city that very
night. So they started off together, and at about
midnight came to the great house where the
city mouse lived. In the dining room was spread
a rich feast. The city mouse, with many airs
and graces, ran about the table, picked out the
nicest bits, and waited on his country friend. The
friend was amazed at the good things, and he
ate to his heart’s content.
All at once the doors of the dining room were
flung open, and in came a crowd of people,
laughing and talking. They were followed by a
big dog, who barked loudly and ran about the
room. The mice rushed for the hole to escape,
and the little field mouse almost died of fright.
As soon as he was able to speak, he said, “Well,
if this is city life, I have seen enough of it. Stay
in this fine place if you like. I will be very glad
to get home to my quiet hole and my plain
oatmeal and peas.”
—From Beka Reading Series
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
8
Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
The Fox and the Crow
Vanity is largely a matter of self-control, or lack of it.
Others may try to feed our ego, but it is up to us to
control it.
fairer than the dove’s.”
“Is your voice as sweet as your form is beautiful?
If so you must be the queen of birds.”
A coal-black crow once stole a piece of meat.
The crow was so happy in his praise that she
She flew to a tree and held the meat in her beak. opened her mouth to show how she could sing.
Down fell the piece of meat.
A fox, who saw her, wanted the meat for himself,
so he looked up into the tree and said, “How
The fox seized upon it and ran away.
beautiful you are, my friend! Your feathers are
—Aesop
George Washington and the Cherry Tree
The chopping down of the cherry tree is surely the
most famous truth-telling tale in America. It first
appeared in 1806 in the fifth edition of Mason Lock
Weems’ imaginative biography of Washington,
entitled The Life of George Washington with
Curious Anecdotes, Equally Honourable to
Himself and Exemplary to His Young Countrymen.
Here is an early twentieth-century rendition.
Just about this time, George was given a shiny
new hatchet. George took it and went about
chopping sticks, hacking into the rails of fences,
and cutting whatever else he passed. At last he
came to the edge of the orchard, and thinking
only how well his hatchet could cut, he chopped
into the little cherry tree. The bark was soft, and
it cut so easily that George chopped the tree
right down, and then went on with his play.
When George Washington was a little boy, he
lived on a farm in Virginia. His father taught
him to ride, and he used to take young George
about the farm with him so that his son might
learn how to take care of the fields and horses
and cattle when he grew older.
That evening when Mr. Washington came from
inspecting the farm, he sent his horse to the
stable and walked down to the orchard to look
at his cherry tree. He stood in amazement when
he saw how it was cut. “Who would have dared
do such a thing?” he asked everyone, but no one
could tell him anything about it.
Mr. Washington had planted an orchard of fine
fruit trees. There were apple trees, peach trees,
pear trees, plum trees, and cherry trees. Once,
a particularly fine cherry tree was sent to him
from across the ocean. Mr. Washington planted
it on the edge of the orchard. He told everyone
on the farm to watch it carefully to see that it
was not broken or hurt in any way.
It grew well, and one spring it was covered
with white blossoms. Mr. Washington was
pleased to think he would soon have cherries
from the little tree.
Just then George passed by.
“George,” his father called in an angry voice, “do
you know who killed my cherry tree?”
This was a tough question, and George
staggered under it for a moment, but quickly
recovered.
“I cannot tell a lie, father,” he said. “I did it with
my hatchet.”
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
Mr. Washington looked at George. The boy’s
face was white, but he looked straight into his
father’s eyes.
“Go into the house, son,” said Mr. Washington
sternly—
George went into the library and waited for his
father. He was very unhappy and very much
ashamed. He knew he had been foolish and
thoughtless and that his father was right to be
displeased.
Soon, Mr. Washington came into the room.
“Come here, my boy,” he said.
George went over to his father. Mr. Washington
looked at him long and steadily.
“Tell me, son, why did you cut the tree?”
“I was playing, and I did not think ...”George
stammered.
9
“And now the tree will die. We shall never have
any cherries from it. But worse than that, you
have failed to take care of the tree when I asked
you to do so.”
George’s head was bent, and his cheeks were
red from shame.
“I am sorry, father,” he said.
Mr. Washington put his hand on the boy’s
shoulder. “Look at me, ” he said. “I am sorry to
have lost the cherry tree, but I am glad that you
were brave enough to tell me the truth. I would
rather have you truthful and brave than to have
a whole orchard full of the finest cherry trees.
Never forget that, my son.”
George Washington never did forget. To the end
of his life, he was just as brave and honorable as
he was that day as a little boy.
—Adapted from J. Berg Esenwein and Marietta Stockard
The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs
Here is Aesop’s classic fable about plenty not being
enough, about what happens when “having it all”
becomes the motto of the day.
A man and his wife had the good fortune to
possess a goose that laid a golden egg every
day. Lucky though they were, they soon began
to think they were not getting rich fast enough,
and imagining the bird must be made of gold
inside, they decided to kill it in order to secure
the whole store of precious metal at once. But
when they cut it open, they found it was just like
any other goose. Thus they neither got rich all at
once, as they had hoped, nor continued to enjoy
the daily addition to their wealth.
Much wants more and loses all.
—Aesop
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
The Honest Woodman
This story is retold from a poem by Jean de La
Fontaine (1621–1695), who, like Aesop, was a
master of the fable.
“What is your sorrow?” she asked kindly. The
woodman told her about his trouble, and at once
she sank beneath the surface and reappeared in
a moment with an ax made of silver.
Once upon a time, out in the green, silent
woods near a rushing river that foamed and
sparkled as it hurried along, there lived a poor
woodcutter who worked hard to make a living
for his family. Every day he would trudge into
the forest with his strong, sharp ax over his
shoulder. He always whistled happily as he went,
because he was thinking that as long as he had
his health and his ax, he could earn enough to
buy all the bread his family needed.
“Is this the ax you lost?” she asked.
One day he was cutting a large oak tree near the
riverside. The chips flew fast at every stroke, and
the sound of the ringing ax echoed through the
forest so clearly you might have thought a dozen
wood choppers were at work that day.
By and by the woodman thought he would rest
awhile. He leaned his ax against the tree and
turned to sit down, but he tripped over an old,
gnarled root, and before he could catch it, his ax
slid down the bank and into the river!
The poor woodman gazed into the stream,
trying to see the bottom, but it was far too deep
there. The river flowed over the lost treasure just
as merrily as before.
“What will I do?” the woodman cried. “I’ve lost
my ax! How will I feed my children now?”
Just as he finished speaking, up from the lake
rose a beautiful lady. She was the water fairy of
the river, and she came to the surface when she
heard his sad voice.
The woodman thought of all the fine things
he could buy for his children with the silver!
But the ax wasn’t his, so he shook his head and
answered, “My ax was only made of steel.”
The water fairy laid the silver ax on the bank and
sank into the river again. In a moment she rose
and showed the woodman another ax, “Perhaps
this one is yours?” she asked.
The woodman looked. “Oh, no! he replied. “This
one is made of gold! It’s worth many times more
than mine.”
The water fairy laid the golden ax on the bank.
Once again she sank. Up she rose. This time she
held the missing ax.
“That is mine!” the woodman cried. “That is
surely my old ax!”
“It is yours,” said the water fairy, “and so are these
other two now. They are gifts from the river,
because you have told the truth.”
And that evening the woodman trudged home
with all three axes on his shoulder, whistling
happily as he thought of all the good things
they would bring for his family.
—Adapted from Emilie Poulsson
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
The Lion and the Mouse
Here is one of the oldest and best-loved stories of
kindness paid and repaid. From it we learn that the
power of compassion has been found within both
the mighty and the meek. Kindness is not a feeble
virtue.
good natured lion, and he set the mouse free.
One day a great lion lay asleep in the sunshine.
A little mouse ran across his paw and wakened
him.
“Be still, dear Lion, and I will set you free. I will
gnaw the ropes.”
The great lion was just going to eat him up
when the little mouse cried, “Oh, please, let me
go, sir. Someday I may help you.”
The lion laughed at the thought that the little
mouse could be of any use to him. But he was a
Not long after, the lion was caught in a net. He
tugged and pulled with all his might, but the
ropes were too strong. “Then he roared loudly.
The little mouse heard him, and ran to the spot.
With his sharp little teeth, the mouse cut the
ropes, and the lion came out of the net.
“You laughed at me once,” said the mouse. “You
thought I was too little to do you a good turn.
But see, you owe your life to a poor little mouse.”
—Aesop
The Little Plant
Away on the edge of the forest stood a little
plant, only a few inches tall.
But the ground around it was so cold and hard
that the plant could not grow; instead it had
feebly stood there for several years and had
grown weaker.
“Grow, and be beautiful!” said the forest, sternly;
but the plant did not grow.
“Don’t you want to grow?” said the magpie; and
then he began to tell the little thing how lazy
and useless it was; but the words went in one
ear and out the other.
Still the plant did not grow.
“I will teach you to obey!” roared the wind, and
lashed the poor twig with its cold wings, so it
came close to dying instead of springing up.
You will surely grow, poor little thing,” said the
sun kindly, and he poured warm spring rain
from the sky and warmed up the earth around
the plant.
And then the little twig shot up and became a
beautiful tree, with a leafy crown and fragrant
blossoms.
—From Beka Reading Series
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
12
The Little Red Hen
From this longtime favorite we learn, as it says in
the third chapter of Genesis, “In the sweat of thy
face shalt thou eat bread.”
won’t,” says the pig. I won’t,” says the turkey. I
will, then,” says the little red hen. “Cluck! cluck!”
So she threshed the wheat. “Who will take this
wheat to mill to have it ground?” says the little
A little red hen once found a grain of wheat.
red hen. I won’t,” says the dog. I won’t,” says the
“Who will plant this wheat?” she said. I won’t,”
cat. I won’t,” says the pig. I won’t,” says the turkey.
says the dog. I won’t,” says the cat. I won’t,” says
I will then,” says the little red hen. “Cluck! cluck!”
the pig. I won’t,” says the turkey. “Then I will,” says
So she took the wheat to mill, and by and by
the little red hen. “Cluck! cluck!” So she planted
she came back with the flour. “Who will bake
the grain of wheat. Very soon the wheat began
this flour?” says the little red hen. I won’t,” says
to grow and the green leaves came out of the
the dog. I won’t,” says the cat. I won’t,” says the
ground. The sun shone and the rain fell and the
pig. I won’t,” says the turkey. I will, then,” says the
wheat kept on growing until it was tall, strong,
little red hen. “Cluck! cluck!” So she baked the
and ripe. “Who will reap this wheat?” says the
flour and made a loaf of bread. “Who will eat this
little red hen. ”I won’t,” says the dog. I won’t,”
bread?” says the little red hen. “I will,” says the
says the cat. I won’t,” says the pig. “I won’t,” says
dog. I will,” says the cat. I will,” says the pig. I will,”
the turkey. I will, then,” says the little red hen.
says the turkey. “No, I will,” says the little red hen.
“Cluck! cluck!” So she reaped the wheat. “Who
“Cluck! cluck!” And she ate up the loaf of bread!
will thresh the wheat?” says the little red hen.
—Retold by Penryhn W. Coussens
“I won’t,” says the dog. I won’t,” says the cat. I
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
13
Little Sunshine
Bestowing compassion is like offering most other
gifts. Often it’s the thought that counts.
When she played in the fields, she saw the grass
and the flowers nodding their heads. The birds
sang sweetly as they flew from tree to tree.
Once there was a little girl named Elsa. She had
a very old grandmother, with white hair, and
wrinkles all over her face.
Everything seemed to say, “We love the sun. We
love the bright, warm sun.”
The grandmother lived on the north side of the
house. The sun never came to her room.
“I will take them in my dress,” she thought, “and
carry them to Grandma’s room.” So she jumped
up and ran into the house.
“Grandma would love it, too,” thought the child.
Elsa’s father had a large house that stood on a hill. “I must take some to her.”
Each day the sun peeped in at the south
When she was in the garden one morning she
windows. It made everything look bright and
felt the sun’s warm rays in her golden hair. Then
beautiful.
she sat down and she saw them in her lap.
One day Elsa said to her father, “Why doesn’t
the sun peep into Grandma’s room? I know she
would like to have him.”
“The sun cannot look in at the north windows,”
said her father.
“Then let us turn the house around, Papa.”
“It is much too large for that,” said her father.
“Will Grandma never have any sunshine in her
room?” asked Elsa.
“Of course not, my child, unless you can carry
some to her.”
After that Elsa tried and tried to think how she
could carry the sunshine to her grandmother.
“Look, Grandma, look! I have some sunshine for
you,” she cried. And she opened her dress, but
there was not a ray to be seen.
“It peeps out of your eyes, my child,” said her
grandmother,“ and it shines in your sunny,
golden hair. I do not need the sun when I have
you with me.”
Elsa did not understand how the sun could peep
out of her eyes. But she was glad to make her
dear grandmother happy.
Every morning she played in the garden. Then
she ran to her grandmother’s room to carry the
sunshine in her eyes and hair.
—Retold by Etta Austin Blaisdell and Mary Frances Blaisdell
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
The Milkmaid
Once upon a time a girl was walking along with
a pail of milk. She sang a happy song, for she
was thinking of the money she would get when
she sold her milk. Then she said to herself—
and clean water. They will grow fat, and by
Christmas they will be large enough to sell. I
can get enough money for them to buy a fine
new dress.”
“I have two gallons of milk, which I shall sell. With
the money I shall buy fifty eggs. I shall put these
under some of my hens. The hens will keep them
warm until little chickens are hatched.”
She was thinking so much about her new dress
that she forgot to be careful. Her foot struck a
stone. As she tried to keep from falling, the pail
flew out of her hands, and the milk was spilled.
“I shall give these chickens plenty of good food
—From Beka Reading Series
The Old Hound
Once there was a beautiful hound. He had long,
silky ears and a smooth, bright coat. He was
not only beautiful, but strong and swift, and
a faithful servant. Wherever his master went
hunting, the hound went with him and chased
the deer. After many years, the hound grew old
and feeble, but still he followed his master with
the other dogs.
One day a stag had been chased till it was
almost tired out, and the old hound caught up
with it and seized it. His teeth were so old and
broken that he could not hold on tightly. The
stag gave a sudden bound and got away. Just
then the master rode up, and seeing what had
happened, was very angry. He took his whip to
strike his faithful old hound.
“O dear Master,” said the hound, “do not strike
me. I meant to do well. It is not my fault that I
am old. Remember what I have been, if you do
not like me as I am now.”
—From Beka Reading Series
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
15
The Sheep and the Pig Who Built a House
This Scandinavian tale is a good companion
for “The Little Red Hen.” In this story, there’s no
shortage of animals willing to pitch in and help.
One morning, bright and early, a sheep and a
curly-tailed pig started out through the world to
find a home.
“We will build us a house,” said the sheep and
the curly-tailed pig, “and there we will live
together.”
“Good!” said the sheep, the pig, and the rabbit.
“You may come with us.”
So the four went on a long, long way, until they
came to the barnyard cock.
“Where are you going?” asked the cock of the four.
“We are going to build us a house,” said the
sheep, the pig, the rabbit, and the goose.
“May I live with you?” asked the barnyard cock.
So they went a long, long way, until they came
to a rabbit.
“What can you do to help?” asked the sheep, the
pig, the rabbit, and the goose.”
“Where are you going?” asked the rabbit of
the two.
The cock said, I can crow very early in the
morning; I can awaken you all.”
“We are going to build us a house,” said the
sheep and the pig.
“Good!” said the sheep, the pig, the rabbit, and
the goose. “You may come with us.”
The rabbit said, I can gnaw pegs with my sharp
teeth; I can put them in with my paws.”
So the five went on, a long, long way until they
found a good place for a house.
“Good!” said the sheep and the pig. “You may
come with us.”
Then the sheep hewed logs and drew them.
So the three went on, a long, long way farther,
until they came to a gray goose.
The rabbit gnawed pegs with his sharp teeth
and hammered them in with his paws.
“Where are you going?” asked the gray goose of
the three.
The goose pulled moss and stuffed it in the
cracks with her bill.
“We are going to build us a house,” said the
sheep, the pig, and the rabbit.
The cock crowed early every morning to tell
them that it was time to rise.
“May I live with you?” asked the gray goose.
And they all lived happily together in their little
house.
“What can you do to help?” asked the sheep, the
pig, and the rabbit.
The pigs made bricks for the cellar.
—Retold by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey
The gray goose said, “I can pull moss and stuff it
in the cracks with my broad bill.”
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Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
16
Someone Sees You
This folktale reminds us that an act of dishonesty is The man stopped and looked all around, but
never truly hidden.
once again he saw no one. He gathered more
wheat and moved to a third field.
Once upon a time a man decided to sneak into
A little while passed, and the daughter cried out,
his neighbor’s fields and steal some wheat. “If
“Father, someone sees you!”
I take just a little from each field, no one will
notice,” he told himself, “but it will all add up to
Once more the man stopped his work and
a nice pile of wheat for me.” So he waited for the looked in every direction, but he saw no one at
darkest night, when thick clouds lay over the
all, so he bundled his wheat and crept into the
moon, and he crept out of his house. He took his last field.
youngest daughter with him.
“Father, someone sees you!” the child cried
“Daughter,” he whispered, “you must stand
again.
guard and call out if anyone sees me.”
The man stopped his reaping, looked around,
The man stole into the first field to begin
and once again saw no one. “Why in the
reaping, and before long the child called out,
world do you keep saying someone sees me?”
“Father, someone sees you!”
he angrily asked his daughter. “I’ve looked
everywhere, and I don’t see anyone.”
The man looked all around, but he saw no one,
so he gathered his stolen wheat and moved to a “Father,” murmured the child. “Someone sees
second field.
you from above.”
“Father, someone sees you!” the child cried
again.
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—Traditional
Student Activities 2nd–4th Grade Fables and Folklore Handbook
17
Why the Deer Has Antlers
Long, long ago, the deer had no antlers. He
was a great runner. All the animals knew it. The
rabbit was a great jumper. The animals knew
this, too. They had seen him going over the
ground very fast. “I wonder if he can jump faster
than the deer can run,” said one animal. That
started them talking, and they talked and talked.
Some thought the deer could run faster. Some
thought the rabbit could jump faster. After
much talk, they planned a race. A fine large pair
of antlers was to be the prize. It was planned for
them to run through the woods and back again.
There were many bushes in the woods. It would
be hard work to run through such bushy woods.
The plan was to have them start together. The
one who came back first would get the antlers.
On the day of the race, all the animals came to
the starting place. The antlers were put down on
the ground to show the starting place. Everyone
was looking at the antlers, thinking and saying
what fine horns they were. The rabbit was doing
some thinking, too. “This is new country to
me,” he said. “I want to take a look through the
bushes where I am to run.” The other animals
thought this was fair. So off he went. But he
stayed and he stayed. It was long past time for
the race to begin. The animals began to look at
each other. “I think we should send someone
to find him,” said Mr. Squirrel. He knew that the
rabbit was full of tricks. They sent Mr. Fox off to
find him. What do you suppose he saw? He saw
the rabbit in the middle of the woods, tearing
away at the bushes, biting them off and pulling
them away. He was making himself a nice
little path through the woods. The fox turned
around quietly and came back. He told the other
animals what he had seen. There were some
who didn’t believe it. By and by the rabbit, came
hop-hop-hop. “Am I late?” he asked. Then they
told him what the fox had said. Do you know he
stood there and said it was not so? He jumped
up and down and said the fox had not seen
him. At that the animals all went to see. There
they saw for themselves the nice little path.
The animals decided there would be no race.
Anyone who played tricks like that had no right
to enter a race at all. They handed the antlers to
the deer. He put them on and has worn them
ever since. They told the rabbit that from that
day on, he would have to cut down the bushes
for a living. And to this day he does.
© 2013, Association of Christian Schools International | Permission granted to reproduce
—From Beka Reading Series
ELEMENTARY SPEECH
PATRIOTIC ORATION
Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
Contents
Introduction 3
Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl 4
Antislavery Convention Address 4
Apologia 6
Benjamin Franklin Speaks 7
The Declaration of Independence 8
A Disappointed Woman 9
Essays to Do Good 10
A Father’s Prayer 11
The Gettysburg Address 11
“Give Me Liberty, or Give Me Death!” 12
I Have a Dream 13
Inaugural Address of John F. Kennedy 14
Letter to Governor George Clinton 14
Men of Color, to Arms! 15
Motion for Prayers in the Convention 16
On Women’s Rights 16
Robert C. Byrd 17
Robert E. Lee to His Son 18
A Solemn Hour 19
Temperance and Women’s Rights 20
The Whistle 20
Please note: In an effort to make our speech meet selections more
current and more meaningful to students, we are soliciting submissions
for possible inclusion in future materials selections. If you wish to submit
a selection, please use the ACSI Elementary Speech Meet Materials
Submission Form in either the coordinator’s or chairperson’s handbook.
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
Introduction
The ACSI regional office is here to help you in every way possible. Please don’t hesitate to call for assistance.
Copyright
© 2013 by ACSI All rights reserved.
No portion of this handbook may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means—mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the permission of ACSI.
For the purpose of preparing students for their event, ACSI grants permission to ACSI member
schools (who are registered through an ACSI regional office to participate in a district
student activity event) to reproduce the materials contained in this document as
necessary to prepare for the afore mentioned event. These pages are marked
with "Permission granted to reproduce", and are limited to one copy per
student or volunteer.
These files may NOT be posted to any school website. Member schools should
contact their regional office for instructions regarding supplying
study materials to parents.
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3
4
Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl
Wednesday, 13 January 1943
Dear Kitty,
Everything has upset me again this morning, so I
wasn’t able to finish a single thing properly.
It is terrible outside. Day and night more of those
poor miserable people are being dragged off, with
nothing but a rucksack and a little money. On the
way they are deprived even of those possessions.
Families are torn apart, the men, women, and
children all being separated. Children coming
home from school find that their parents have
disappeared. Women return from shopping to find
their homes shut up and their families gone.
The Dutch people are anxious, too; their sons are
being sent to Germany. Everyone is afraid. And
every night hundreds of planes fly over Holland and
go to German towns, where the earth is plowed
up by their bombs, and every hour thousands and
thousands of people are killed in Russia and Africa.
No one is able to keep out of it; the whole globe is
waging war; and although it is going better for the
Allies, the end is not yet in sight.
And as for us, we are fortunate. Yes, we are luckier
than millions of people. It is quiet and safe here; and
we are, so to speak, living on capital. We are even
so selfish as to talk about “after the war,” brighten
up at the thought of having new clothes and new
shoes, whereas we really ought to save every penny,
to help other people, and save what is left from the
wreckage after the war.
The children here run about in just thin blouses and
clogs; no coat, no hat, no stockings, and no one
helps them. Their tummies are empty, they chew
an old carrot to stay the pangs, go from their cold
homes out into the cold street, and when they get to
school, find themselves in an even colder classroom.
Yes, it has even gotten so bad in Holland that
countless children stop the passers-by and beg for a
piece of bread. I could go on for hours about all the
suffering the war has brought, but then I would only
make myself more dejected. There is nothing we can
do but wait calmly as we can till the misery comes
to an end. Jews and Christians wait, the whole earth
waits; and there are many who wait for death.
Yours, Anne
—by Pocketbooks of New York
Antislavery Convention Address
Angelina and Sarah Grimke, sisters from South
Carolina who moved to Philadelphia and became
Quakers, were active in the abolitionist movement
and were frequent lecturers on the evils of slavery
and the right of women to speak and work publicly
for social issues. In 1836 Angelina Grimke (1805–
1879) caused a furor with her widely distributed
pamphlet An Appeal to the Christian Women of
the South, which was burned in South Carolina.
The building in which she addressed an antislavery
convention in May 1838 was surrounded by an
angry mob and pelted with stones during her
speech and consumed by fire a few days later.
National Antislavery Convention
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: May 16, 1838
Do you ask, “What has the North to do with slavery?”
Hear it, hear it! Those voices without tell us that
the spirit of slavery is here and has been roused to
wrath by our conventions; for surely liberty would
not foam and tear herself with rage, because her
friends are multiplied daily, and meetings are held in
quick succession to set forth her virtues and extend
her peaceful kingdom. This opposition shows that
slavery has done its deadliest work in the hearts of
our citizens. Do you ask, then, “What has the North
to do?” I answer, cast out first the spirit of slavery
from your own hearts, and then lend your aid to
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
convert the South. Each one present has a work
to do, be his or her situation what it may, however
limited their means or insignificant their supposed
influence. The great men of this country will not
do this work; the church will never do it. A desire
to please the world, to keep the favor of all parties
and of all conditions, makes them dumb on this and
every other unpopular subject.
As a Southerner, I feel that it is my duty to stand up
here tonight and bear testimony against slavery.
I have seen it! I have seen it! I know it has horrors
that can never be described. I was brought up
under its wing. I witnessed for many years its
demoralizing influences and its destructiveness to
human happiness. I have never seen a happy slave.
I have seen him dance in his chains, it is true, but he
was not happy. There is a wide difference between
happiness and mirth. Man cannot enjoy happiness
while his manhood is destroyed. Slaves, however,
may be, and sometimes are mirthful. When hope
is extinguished, they say, “Let us eat and drink, for
tomorrow we die.”
We often hear the question asked: “What shall
we do?” Here is an opportunity. Every man and
every woman present may do something, by
showing that we fear not a mob, and in the midst
of revilings and threatenings, pleading the cause
of those who are ready to perish. Let me urge
everyone to buy the books written on this subject;
read them and lend them to your neighbors. Give
your money no longer for things which pander to
pride and lust, but aid in scattering “the living coals
of truth upon the naked heart of the nation, ”in
circulating appeals to the sympathies of Christians
in behalf of the outraged slave.
It was remarked in England that women did much
to abolish slavery in her colonies. Nor are they
now idle. Numerous petitions from them have
recently been presented to the queen to abolish
apprenticeship, with its cruelties, nearly equal to
those of the system whose place it supplies. One
petition, two miles and a quarter long, has been
presented. And do you think these labors will be in
vain? Let the history of the past answer. When the
women of these states send up to Congress such
What is a mob? What would the breaking of every
a petition, our legislators will arise, as did those of
window be? What would the leveling of this hall be? England, and say: “When all the maids and matrons
Any evidence that we are wrong, or that slavery is a of the land are knocking at our doors, we must
good and wholesome institution? What if the mob
legislate.” Let the zeal and love, the faith and works
should now burst in upon us, break up our meeting, of our English sisters quicken ours; that while the
and commit violence upon our persons? Would
slaves continue to suffer, and when they shout for
that be anything compared with what the slaves
deliverance, we may feel the satisfaction of “having
endured? No, no; and we do not remember them, “as done what we could.”
bound with them,” if we shrink in the time of peril,
—Angelina Grimke
or feel unwilling to sacrifice ourselves, if need be,
Great American Speeches
for their sake. I thank the Lord that there is yet life
enough left to feel the truth, even though it rages at
it; that conscience is not so completely seared as to
be unmoved by the truth of the living God.
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
Apologia by Christopher Columbus
In 1492, when he stepped upon the shore of the
little Caribbean island of San Salvador, Christopher
Columbus ushered in a new age of exploration
and settlement the likes which the world had
never seen. He also greatly contributed to the
providential perspective of American history—a
view that asserts the directing hand of almighty
God—though the publication of his Book of
Prophesies some ten years later This short excerpt
gives a glimpse of that perspective and captures
the essence of the Admiral of the Ocean Seas’
extraordinary worldview.
At a very early age I went to sea and have continued
navigating until today. The art of sailing is favorable
for anyone who wants to pursue knowledge of this
world’s secrets. I have already been at this business
for forty years. I have sailed all the waters which up
to now, have been navigated. I have had dealings
and conversation with learned people—clergymen
and laymen, Latins and Greeks, Jews and Moors, and
with many others of other sects.
I found our Lord very well disposed toward this, my
desire, and he gave me the spirit for it. He prospered
me in seamanship and supplied me with the
necessary tools of astronomy, as well as geometry
and arithmetic and ingenuity of manual skill to
draw spherical maps which show cities, rivers and
mountains, islands and ports—everything in its
proper place.
I have seen and put into study to look into all
Scriptures, cosmography, histories, chronicles,
philosophy, and other arts, which our Lord has
opened to understanding, so that it became clear
to me that it was feasible to navigate from here
to the Indies; and He unlocked within me the
determination to execute the idea. And I came to
the Sovereigns of Castile and Aragon with this ardor.
All those who heard about my enterprise rejected it
with laughter, scoffing at me. Neither the sciences
which I mentioned, nor the authoritative citations
from them, were of any avail. In only the sovereigns
remained faith and constancy. Who doubts that this
illumination was from the Holy Spirit? I attest that He,
with marvelous rays of light, consoled me through
the holy and sacred Scriptures, a strong and clear
testimony, with forty-four books of the Old Testament,
and four Gospels with twenty-three Epistles of those
blessed Apostles, encouraging me to proceed, and,
continually, without ceasing for a moment, they
inflame me with a sense of great urgency.
Our Lord wished to perform the clearest work
of providence in this matter—the voyage to the
Indiesto console me and others in this matter of the
Holy Temple: I have spent seven years in the royal
court arguing the case with many persons of such
authority and learned in all the arts, and in the end
they concluded that all was idle nonsense, and with
this they gave up the enterprise; yet the outcome
was to be the fulfillment of what our Redeemer
Jesus Christ said beforehand through the mouth of
the prophets.
And so the prophesy has been made manifest.
—The Patriot’s Handbook
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Benjamin Franklin Speaks
Mr. President:
The small progress we have made after four or five
weeks’ close attendance and continual reasonings
with each other—our different sentiments
on almost every question, several of the last
producing as many noes as ayes is, methinks, a
melancholy proof of the imperfection of the human
understanding. We in-deed seem to feel our own
want of political wisdom, since we have been
running about in search of it. We have gone back
to ancient history for models of government, and
examined the different forms of those republics
which, having been formed with the seeds of
their own dissolution, no longer exist. And we
have viewed modem states all round Europe, but
find none of their Constitutions suitable to our
circumstances.
In this situation of this Assembly, groping as it
were in the dark to find political truth, and scarce
able to distinguish it when presented us, how has
it happened, Sir, that we have not hitherto once
thought of humbly applying to the Father of Lights
to illumine our understanding? In the beginning
of the contest with Great Britain, when we were
sensible of danger we had daily prayer in this room
for divine protection. Our prayers, Sir, were heard,
and they were graciously answered. All of us who
were engaged in the struggle must have observed
frequent instances of a superintending Providence in
our favor. To that kind Providence we owe this happy
opportunity of consulting in peace on the means of
establishing our future national felicity. And have
we now forgotten that powerful Friend? Or do we
imagine that we no longer need His assistance?
I have lived, Sir, a long time, and the longer I live,
the more convincing proofs I see of this truth—that
God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow
cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it
probable that an empire can rise without His aid? We
have been assured, Sir, in the sacred writings, that
“except the Lord build the house they labor in vain
that build it.” I firmly believe this; and I also believe
that without His concurring aid we shall succeed in
this political building no better than the builders
of Babel. We shall be divided by our little partial
local interests; our projects will be confounded; and
we ourselves shall become a reproach and byword
down to future ages. And what is worse, mankind
may hereafter, from this unfortunate instance,
despair of establishing governments by human
wisdom, and leave it to chance, war, and conquest.
I, therefore, beg leave to move that, henceforth,
prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven, and
its blessings on our deliberations be held in this
assembly every morning as we proceed to business,
and that one or more of the clergy in this city be
requested to officiate in that service.
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
The Declaration of Independence On July 4, 1776, the Second Continental Congress,
representing the thirteen original colonies of the
United States, adopted a resolution unanimously
declaring the colonies’ independence from Great
Britain. The document was penned by Thomas
Jefferson.
PREAMBLE:
When, in the course of human events, it becomes
necessary for one people to dissolve the political
bands which have connected them with another,
and to assume among the powers of the earth the
separate and equal station to which the laws of
nature and of nature’s God entitle them, a decent
respect to the opinions of mankind requires that
they should declare the causes which impel them to
the separation.
(Excerpts from Preamble and Conclusion)
and transient causes; and, accordingly, all experience
hath shown that mankind are more disposed
to suffer while evils are sufferable, than to right
themselves by abolishing the forms to which they
are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses
and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same
object, evinces a design to reduce them under
absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty,
to throw off such government and to provide new
guards for their future security. Such has been the
patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is now
the necessity which constrains them to alter their
former systems of government....
CONCLUSION:
We, therefore, the Representatives of the United
States of America, in General Congress assembled,
appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for
the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name
We hold these truths to be self-evident: That all
and by the authority of the good people of these
men are created equal; that they are endowed by
colonies, solemnly publish and declare that these
their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that
United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, FREE
among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness; that, to secure these rights, governments AND INDEPENDENT STATES; that they are absolved
are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all
political connection between them and the State of
from the consent of the governed; that whenever
Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved;
any form of government becomes destructive of
these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to and that as free and independent States they have
full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract
abolish it and to institute new government, laying
alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other
its foundation on such principles, and organizing
acts and things which independent States may of
its powers in such form, as to them shall seem
right do. And for the support of this declaration,
most likely to effect their safety and happiness.
with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine
Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments
Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our
long established should not be changed for light
lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
A Disappointed Woman
Like Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady
Stanton, Lucy Stone (1818–1893) was a pioneering
champion of women’s rights and was active as well
in the temperance and abolitionist movements.
Stone was well-known for her decision to retain
her own name after marriage. She was a founder
of the American Woman ‘s Suffrage Association
and was editor of Boston’s Women’s Journal,
assisted by her husband, Henry Brown Blackwell,
and her daughter, Alice Stone Blackwell.
National Woman’s Rights Convention
Cincinnati, Ohio; 1855
The last speaker alluded to this movement as being
that of a few disappointed women. From the first
years to which my memory stretches, I have been
a disappointed woman. When, with my brothers, I
reached forth after the sources of my knowledge,
I was reproved with “It isn’t fit for you; it doesn’t
belong to women.” Then there was but one college
in the world where women were admitted, and that
was in Brazil. I would have found my way there, but
by the time I was prepared to go, one was opened
in the young state of Ohio—the first in the United
States where women and Negroes could enjoy
opportunities with white men. I was disappointed
when I came to seek a profession worthy an
immortal being— every employment was closed
to me, except those of the teacher, the seamstress,
and the housekeeper. In education, in marriage, in
religion, in everything, disappointment is the lot of
woman. It shall be the business of my life to deepen
this disappointment in every woman’s heart until
she bows down to it no longer. I wish that women,
instead of being walking showcases, instead of
begging of their fathers and brothers the latest and
gayest new bonnet, would ask of them their rights.
The question of woman’s rights is a practical
one. The notion has prevailed that it was only an
ephemeral idea, that it was but women claiming the
right to smoke cigars in the streets and to frequent
bar-rooms. Others have supposed it a question of
comparative intellect; others still, of sphere. Too
much has already been said and written about
woman’s sphere. Trace all the doctrines to their
source and they will be found to have no basis
except in the usages and prejudices of the age. This
is seen in the fact that what is tolerated in woman
in one country is not tolerated in another. In this
country women may hold prayer meetings, etcetera,
but in Mohammedan countries it is written upon
their mosques, “Women and dogs, and other impure
animals, are not permitted to enter.” Wendel Phillips
says, “The best and greatest thing one is capable of
doing, that is his sphere.
I have confidence in the Father to believe that when
He gives us the capacity to do anything He does not
make a blunder. Leave women, then, to find their
sphere. And do not tell us before we are born even,
that our province is to cook dinners, dam stockings,
and sew on buttons. We are told woman has all the
rights she wants; and even women, I am ashamed to
say, tell us so. They mistake the politeness of men for
rights—seats while men stand in the hall tonight, and
their adulations; but these are mere courtesies. We
want rights. The flour merchant, the house builder,
and the postman charge us no less on account of our
sex; but when we endeavor to earn money to pay all
these, then, indeed, we find the difference.... Women
working in tailor shops are paid one third as much as
men. Someone in Philadelphia has stated that women
make fine shirts for twelve and a half cents apiece;
that no woman can make more than nine a week,
and the sum thus earned, after deducting rent, fuel,
etcetera, leaves her just three and a half cents a day
for bread. Female teachers in New York are paid fifty
dollars a year, and for every such situation there are
five hundred applicants. I know not what you believe
of God, but I believe He gave yearnings and longings
to be filled, and that He did not mean all our time
should be devoted to feeding and clothing the body.
The present condition of woman causes a horrible
perversion of the marriage relation. It is asked of a
lady, ”Has she married well?” “Oh yes, her husband
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
is rich.” Woman must marry for a home, and you
men are the sufferers by this; for a woman who
loathes you may marry you because you have the
means to get money which she cannot have. But
when woman can enter the lists with you and make
money for herself, she will marry you only for deep
and earnest affection.
A woman undertook in Lowell to sell shoes to ladies.
Men laughed at her, but in six years she has run
them all out and has a monopoly of the trade. Sarah
Tyndale, whose husband was an importer of china
and died bankrupt, continued his business, paid
off his debts, and has made a fortune and built the
largest china warehouse in the world. Mrs. Tyndale,
herself, drew the plan of her warehouse, and it is the
Essays to Do Good best plan ever drawn. A laborer to whom the architect
showed it, said: “Don’t she know e’en as much as
some men?” I have seen a woman at manual labor
turning out chair legs in a cabinet shop, with a dress
short enough not to drag in the shavings. I wish other
women would imitate her in this ... The widening of
a woman’s sphere is to improve her lot. Let us do it,
and if the world scoff, let it scoff—if it sneer, let it
sneer—but we will go on emulating the example of
the sisters Grimke and Abby Kelley. When they first
lectured against slavery they were not listened to
as respectfully as you listen to us. So the first female
physician meets many difficulties, but to the next the
path will be made easy.
—Lucy Stone
Great American Speeches
by Cotton Mather
One of the most brilliant and prolific of the early
colonists, Cotton Mather was the scion of a
prominent family of academics and clerics. His more
than three hundred published works, spanning an
astonishing array of subjects and disciplines, helped
to establish the substantive cultural tenor of the
Massachusetts colony. Perhaps his most famous
book, Essays to Do Good, excerpted here, reiterated
Governor Winthrop’s call for America to be a beacon
light of charity and grace to the world.
glorify their Creator and Redeemer may be rectified.
There needs abundance to be done, that the evil
manners of the world, by which men are drowned in
perdition, may be reformed; and mankind rescued
from the epidemical corruption and slavery which has
overwhelmed it. There needs abundance to be done,
that the miseries of the world may have remedies and
abatements provided for them; and that miserable
people may be relieved and comforted.
The world has according to the computation of
some, above seven hundred millions of people now
Such glorious things are spoken in the oracles of our
living in it. What an ample field among all these, to
good God, concerning them who devise good, that a do good upon! In a word, the kingdom of God in
book of good devices may very reasonably demand
the world, calls for innumerable services from us.
attention and acceptance from them that have any
To do such things is to do good. Those men devise
impressions of the most reasonable religion upon
good, who shape any devices to do things of such
them. I am devising such a book; but at the same time a tendency, whether the things be of a spiritual
offering a sorrowful demonstration, that if men would importance, or of a temporal.
set themselves to devise good, a world of good might
be done, more than there is in this present evil world. You see, the general matter, appearing as yet, but as
a chaos, which is to be wrought upon. Oh! that the
It is very sure the world has need enough. There
good Spirit of God may now fall upon us, and carry
needs abundance to be done, that the great God
on the glorious work which lies before us.
and His Christ may be more known and served in the
—The Patriot’s Handbook
world; and that the errors which are impediments
to the acknowledgment wherewith men ought to
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
A Father’s Prayer
Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough
to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face
himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud
and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and
gentle in victory.
Build me a son, whose wishes will not take the place
of deeds; a son who will know Thee—and that to
know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.
Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and
comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties
and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the
storm; here let him learn compassion for those who
fail. Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose
The Gettysburg Address goal will be high, a son who will master himself
before he seeks to master other men, one who will
reach into the future, yet never forget the past.
And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough
of a sense of humor so that he may always be
serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give
him humility so that he may always remember the
simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true
wisdom, and the meekness of true strength.
Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, “I have not
lived in vain.”
—General Douglas McArthur
November 19, 1863
Four-score and seven years ago our fathers brought
forth upon this continent, a new nation, conceived
in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all
men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a
great civil war, testing whether that nation or any
nation so conceived and so dedicated can long
endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that
war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that
field, as a final resting place for those who here gave
their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether
fitting and proper that we should do this.
have consecrated it, far above our poor power to
add or detract. The world will little note, nor long
remember what we say here, but it can never forget
what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be
dedicated here to the unfinished work which they
who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.
It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great
task remaining before us—that from these honored
dead we take increased devotion to the cause for
which they gave the last full measure of devotion—
that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not
have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can have a new birth of freedom—and that government
not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground.
of the people, by the people, for the people, shall
The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, not perish from the earth.
—Abraham Lincoln
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
“Give Me Liberty, or Give Me Death!” MR. PRESIDENT: No man thinks more highly than I
do of the patriotism, as well as the abilities of the
very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed
the House. But different men often see the same
subject in different lights; and therefore, I hope
that it will not be thought disrespectful to those
gentlemen, if, entertaining as I do, opinions of a
character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth
my sentiments freely and without reserve. This
is no time for ceremony. The question before the
House is one of awful moment to this country. For
my own part I consider it as nothing less than a
question of freedom or slavery ... Should I keep back
my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving
offence, I should consider myself as guilty of treason
toward my country, and of an act of disloyalty
towards the majesty of heaven, which I revere above
all earthly kings.
Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the
illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against
a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren,
till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of
wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle
for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of
those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears,
hear not, the things, which so nearly concern their
temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish
of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole
truth; to know the worst and to provide for it ... If we
wish to be free—if we mean to preserve inviolate
those inestimable privileges for which we have
been so long contending—if we mean not basely
to abandon the noble struggle in which we have
engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves
never to abandon until the glorious object of our
contest shall be obtained, we must fight! I repeat it,
sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God
of Hosts is all that is left us!
(1775 Address to the House)
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope
with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we
be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next
year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and
when a British guard shall be stationed in every
house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and
inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual
resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and
hugging the delusive phantom of hope until our
enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we
are not weak, if we make proper use of the means
which the God of nature hath placed in our power.
Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause
of liberty, and in such a country as that which we
possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy
can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight
our battles alone. There is a just God who presides
over the destinies of nations; it is to the vigilant, the
active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If
we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late
to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in
submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their
clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The
war is inevitable—and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let
it come!
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen
may cry peace—but there is no peace. The war is
actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the
north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding
arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand
we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What
would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as
to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?
Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course
others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give
me death!
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—Patrick Henry
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
I Have a Dream (Excerpts)
Dr Martin Luther King, Jr, delivered this speech
at the Lincoln Memorial, in Washington, DC, on
August 28, 1963. He was speaking to a huge crowd
of people who had marched into Washington in
support of civil rights legislation.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we
face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still
have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the
American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up
and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold
these truths to be self-evident; that all men are
created equal.”
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of
Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of
former slaveowners will be able to sit down together
at the table of brotherhood; I have a dream—. . .
That my four little children will one day live in a
nation where they will not be judged by the color
of their skin but by the content of their character; I
have a dream today… .
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be
exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low,
and rough places will be made plane and crooked
places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord
shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This will be the day ... This will be the day when
all of God’s children will be able to sing with new
meaning, “My country ‘tis of thee, sweet land of
liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died,
land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside,
let freedom ring,” and if America is to be a great
nation— this must become true.
So let freedom ring—from the prodigious hilltops of
New Hampshire, let freedom ring; from the mighty
mountains of New York, let freedom ring—from the
heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania! Let freedom
ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado! Let
freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone
Mountain of Georgia! Let freedom ring from every hill
and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside,
let freedom ring, and when this happens….
When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring
from every village and every hamlet, from every
state and every city, we will be able to speed up that
day when all of God’s children, black men and white
men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics,
will be able to join hands and sing in the words of
the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! Free at last!
Thank God almighty, we are free at last!”
—Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the
South with. With this faith we will be able to hew
out the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With
this faith we will be able to transform the jangling
discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of
brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work
together, to pray together, to struggle together, to
go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together,
knowing that we will be free one day.
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
Inaugural Address of John F. Kennedy In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will
rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this
country was founded, each generation of Americans
has been summoned to give testimony to its national
loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered
the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again—not as a call
to bear arms, though arms we need— not as a call to
battle, though embattled we are—but a call to bear
the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and
year out, “rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation”—a
struggle against the common enemies of man:
tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
Can we forge against these enemies a grand and
global alliance, north and south, east and west, that
can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will
you join in that historic effort?
In the long history of the world, only a few
generations have been granted the role of
defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I
do not believe that any of us would exchange places
with any other people or any other generation.
(Excerpt)
The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring
to this endeavor will light our country and all who
serve it—and the glow from that fire can truly light
the world.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your
country can do for you—ask what you can do for
your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what
America will do for you, but what together we can
do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or
citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high
standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of
you. With a good conscience our only sure reward,
with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go
forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing
and His help, but knowing that here on earth God’s
work must truly be our own.
—John F. Kennedy
35th President of the United States (1961)
Letter to Governor George Clinton
George Washington
Valley Forge, 16 February, 1778
Dear Dear Sir:
It is with great reluctance I trouble you on a subject
which does not properly fall within your province;
but it is a subject that gives me more distress than I
have felt since the commencement of the war; and
which loudly demands the most zealous exertions
of every person of weight and authority who is
interested in the success of our affairs; I mean the
present dreadful situation of the army, for want of
provision, and the miserable prospects before us,
with respect to the future.
It is more alarming than you will probably realize;
for, to form a just idea of it, it were necessary to be
on the spot. For some days past, there has been little
less than a famine in camp. A part of the army has
been a week without any kind of meat, and the rest
three or four days. Naked and starving as they are,
we cannot but admire the incomparable patience
and fidelity of the soldiery, that they have not been,
ere this, excited by their suffering to a general
mutiny and dispersion. Strong symptoms, however,
of discontent have appeared in particular instances;
and nothing but the most active efforts, everywhere,
can long avert so shocking a catastrophe.
Our present sufferings are not all. There is no
foundation laid for any adequate relief hereafter. All
the magazines provided in the state of New Jersey,
Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland, and all the
immediate additional supplies they seem capable
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
of affording, will not be sufficient to support the
army more than a month longer, if so long. Very
little has been done at the eastward, and as little to
the south-ward; and whatever we have a right to
expect from those quarters must necessarily be very
remote, and is, indeed, more precarious than could
be wished. When the before-mentioned supplies are
exhausted, what a terrible crisis must ensue, unless
all the energy of the Continent shall be exerted to
provide a timely remedy!
—Open Court Publishing Company
Men of Color, to Arms!
Frederick Douglass, born a slave, escaped to the
North at age nineteen and became involved in the
antislavery movement. He became a great lecturer
and an agent of the American Antislavery Society.
During the Civil War he, and other black leaders,
urged black men to enlist as soldiers in the Union
Army. After the war, he assumed many political
offices and advocated constitutional reform to grant
equal citizenship rights regardless of race or color.
Massachusetts now welcomes you to arms as
soldiers. She has but a small colored population
from which to recruit. She has full leave of the
general government to send one regiment to the
war, and she has undertaken to do it. Go quickly
and help fill up the first colored regiment from
the North. I am authorized to assure you that you
will receive the same wages, the same rations,
the same equipments, the same protection, the
same treatment, and the same bounty, secured
to the white soldiers. You will be led by able and
By every consideration which binds you to your
skillful officers, men who will take especial pride
enslaved fellow-countrymen, and the peace and
welfare of your country; by every aspiration which you in your efficiency and success. They will be quick
to accord to you all the honor you shall merit by
cherish for the freedom and equality of yourselves
and your children; by all the ties of blood and identity your valor, and see that your rights and feelings are
which make us one with the brave black men fighting respected by other soldiers. I have assured myself
on these points and can speak with authority. More
our battles in Louisiana and in South Carolina, I urge
than twenty years of unswerving devotion to our
you to fly to arms, and smite with death the power
common cause may give me some humble claim to
that would bury the government and your liberty in
be trusted at this momentous crisis. I will not argue.
the same hopeless grave. I wish I could tell you that
the state of New York calls you to this high honor. For To do so implies hesitation and doubt, and you do
not hesitate. You do not doubt. The day dawns; the
the moment her constituted authorities are silent on
the subject. They will speak by and by, and doubtless morning star is bright upon the horizon! The iron
on the right side; but we are not compelled to wait for gate of our prison stands half open. One gallant
rush from the North will fling it wide open, while
her. We can get at the throat of treason and slavery
four millions of our brothers and sisters shall march
through the state of Massachusetts. She was first in
out into liberty. The chance is now given you to end
the War of Independence; first to break the chains of
in a day the bondage of centuries, and to rise in
her slaves; first to make the black man equal before
the law; first to admit colored children to her common one bound from social degradation to the plane of
common equality with all other varieties of men.
schools, and she was first to answer with her blood
the alarm cry of the nation, when its capital was
—Frederick Douglass
menaced by rebels.
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
Motion for Prayers in the Convention Mr. President,
. . . In this Situation of this Assembly, groping, as it
were, in the dark to find Political Truth, and scarce
able to distinguish it when presented to us, how
has it happened, Sir, that we have not hitherto once
thought of humbly applying to the Father of Lights
to illuminate our Understandings? In the Beginning
of the Contest with Britain, when we were sensible
of Danger, we had daily prayers in this Room for the
Divine Protection. Our Prayers, Sir, were heard; —
and they were graciously answered. All of us, who
were engaged in the Struggle, must have observed
frequent Instances of a superintending Providence
in our Favour. To that kind Providence we owe this
happy Opportunity of Consulting in Peace on the
means of establishing our future national Felicity.
And have we now forgotten that powerful friend?
or do we imagine we no longer need its assistance?
I have lived, Sir, a long time; and the longer I live,
the more convincing proofs I see of this Truth, that
GOD governs in the Affairs of Men. And if a Sparrow
cannot fall to the Ground without His Notice, is it
Motion made June 28, 1787
probable that an Empire can rise without His Aid?
We have been assured, Sir, in the Sacred Writings
that “except the Lord build the House, they labour
in vain that build it.” I firmly believe this; and I
also believe, that, without his concurring aid, we
shall succeed in this political Building no better
than the Builders of Babel; we shall be divided by
our little, partial, local Interests, our Projects will
be confounded, and we ourselves shall become
a Reproach and a Bye-word down to future Ages.
And, what is worse, Mankind may hereafter, from
this unfortunate Instance, despair of establishing
Government by human Wisdom, and leave it to
Chance, War, and Conquest.
I therefore beg leave to move, That henceforth
Prayers, imploring the Assistance of Heaven and
its Blessing on our Deliberations, be held in this
Assembly every morning before we proceed to
Business; and that one or more of the Clergy of this
city be requested to officiate in that Service.
—by Benjamin Franklin
On Women’s Rights
Sojourner Truth (1797-1883) was born a slave in New
York State and was emancipated by that state in
1828. She traveled throughout the North preaching
religion, abolitionism, and women’s rights. In 1850
she attended the First National Women’s Rights
Convention in Worcester, Massachusetts, and the
following year she spoke at the Ohio Women’s Rights
Convention. Her words were transcribed by Frances
Gage, the convention’s organizer, and printed in the
1878 edition of the Narrative of Sojourner Truth.
Ohio Women’s Rights Convention
Akron, Ohio; 1851
Well, children, where there is so much racket there
must be something out of kilter. I think that ‘twixt
the Negroes of the South and the women at the
North, all talking about rights, the white men will be
in a fix pretty soon.
But what’s all this here talking about? That man
over there says that women need to be helped into
carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the
best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into
carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any
best place. And ain’t I a woman? Look at me! Look
at my arm. I have plowed and planted and gathered
into barns, and no man could head me. And ain’t I
a woman? I could work as much and eat as much
as a man—when I could get it—and bear the lash
as well. And ain’t I a woman? I have borne thirteen
children, and seen them most all sold off into
slavery, and when I cried out with a mother’s grief,
none but Jesus heard me! And ain’t I a woman?
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Then they talk about this thing in the head; what’s
this they call it? (“Intellect,” whispered someone near.)
That’s it honey. What’s that got to do with women’s
rights or Negroes’ rights? If my cup won’t hold but a
pint and yours hold a quart wouldn’t you be mean
not to let me have my little half-measure full?
Then that little man in black there, he says women
can’t have as much rights as men, ‘cause Christ
wasn’t a women. Where did your Christ come from?
Where did your Christ come from? Where did your
Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had
nothing to do with Him.
If the first woman God ever made was strong enough
to turn the world upside down all alone, these
women together ought to be able to turn it back,
and get it right side up again. And now they is
asking to do it, the men better let them.
Obliged to you for hearing on me, and now old
Sojourner ain’t got nothing more to say.
—Sojourner Truth
Great American Speeches
Robert C. Byrd
On June 27,1962, as a United States Senator from
West Virginia, delivered a message in Congress just
two days after the Supreme Court declared prayer
in schools unconstitutional:
chaplain, Brewster, who later joined the Mayflower,
has open on his lap the Bible. Very clear are the
words, “the New Testament according to our Lord
and Saviour, Jesus Christ.” On the sail is the motto of
the Pilgrims, “In God We Trust, God With Us.”
Inasmuch as our greatest leaders have shown no
doubt about God’s proper place in the American
birth-right, can we, in our day, dare do less? …
The phrase “In God We Trust” appears opposite the
President of the Senate, who is the Vice President of
the United States. The same phrase, in large words
inscribed in marble, backdrops the Speaker of the
House of Representatives.
In no other place in the United States are there so
many, and such varied official evidences of deep
abiding faith in God on the part of Government as
there are in Washington …
Every session of the House and the Senate begins
with prayer. Each house has its own chaplain. The
Eighty-third Congress set aside a small room in the
Capitol, just off the rotunda, for the private prayer
and meditation of members of Congress. The room
is always open when Congress is in session, but it is
not open to the public. The room’s focal point is a
stained glass window showing George Washington
kneeling in prayer. Behind him is etched these words
from Psalm 16: 1, “Preserve me, 0 God, for in Thee do
I put my trust.”
Inside the rotunda is a picture of the Pilgrims
about to embark from Holland on the sister ship of
the Mayflower, the Speedwell. The ship’s revered
Above the head of the Chief Justice of the Supreme
Court are the Ten Commandments, with the great
American eagle protecting them. Moses is included
among the great lawgivers in Herman A. MacNeil’s
marble sculpture group on the east front. The crier
who opens each session closes with the words, “God
save the United States and this Honorable Court.”
Engraved on the metal on the top of the Washington
Monument are the words: “Praise be to God.” Lining
the walls of the stairwell are such biblical phrases as
“Search the Scriptures,” “Holiness to the Lord,” “Train
up a child in the way he should go, and when he is
old he will not depart from it.”
Numerous quotations from Scripture can be found
within its (the Library of Congress’) walls. One
reminds each American of his responsibility to his
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
Maker: “What doth the Lord require of thee, but to
do justly and love mercy and walk humbly with thy
God” (Micah 6:8).
At the opposite end, on the north wall, his Second
Inaugural Address alludes to “God,” the “Bible,”
“providence,” “the Almighty,” and “divine attributes.”
Another in the lawmaker’s library preserves the
Psalmist’s acknowledgment that all nature reflects
the order and beauty of the Creator, “The heavens
declare the glory of God, and the firmament
showeth His handiwork” (Psalm 19:1). And still
another reference: “The light shineth in darkness,
and the darkness comprehendeth it not” (John 1:5).
It then continues: As was said 3000 years ago, so it
still must be said, “The judgments of the Lord are
true and righteous altogether.”
On the south banks of Washington’s Tidal Basin,
Thomas Jefferson still speaks:
“God who gave us life gave us liberty. Can the liberties
of a nation be secure when we have removed a
Millions have stood in the Lincoln Memorial and
gazed up at the statue of the great Abraham Lincoln. conviction that these liberties are the gift of God?
The sculptor who chiseled the features of Lincoln in Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that
granite all but seems to make Lincoln speak his own God is just, that his justice cannot sleep forever.”
words inscribed into the walls.
[These words of Jefferson are] a forceful and explicit
warning that to remove God from this country will
“. . . That this Nation, under God, shall have a new
destroy it.
birth of freedom, and that government of the
people, by the people, and for the people, shall not
perish from the earth.”
—From America’s God and Country
Robert E. Lee to His Son
You must study to be frank with the world. Frankness
is the child of honesty and courage. Say just what you
mean to do, on every occasion, and take it for granted
that you mean to do right. If a friend asks a favor,
you should grant it, if it is reasonable; if not, tell him
plainly why you cannot; you would wrong him and
wrong yourself by equivocation of any kind.
Never do a wrong thing to make a friend or keep
one; the man who requires you to do so is dearly
purchased at the sacrifice. Deal kindly but firmly
with all your classmates; you will find it the policy
which wears best. Above all, do not appear to others
what you are not.
If you have any fault to find with anyone, tell him,
not others, of what you complain; there is no more
dangerous experiment than that of undertaking to
be one thing before a man’s face and another behind
his back. We should live, act, and say nothing to the
injury of anyone. It is not only for the best as a matter
of principle, but it is the path of peace and honor.
In regard to duty, let me, in conclusion of this hasty
letter, inform you that nearly a hundred years
ago there was a day of remarkable gloom and
darkness—still known as “the dark day”—a day
when the light of the sun was slowly extinguished,
as if by an eclipse.
The Legislature of Connecticut was in session,
and as its members saw the unexpected and
unaccountable darkness coming on, they shared in
general awe and terror. It was supposed by many
that the last day—the day of judgement— had
come. Someone, in the consternation of the hour,
moved an adjournment.
Then there arose an old Puritan legislator, Davenport,
of Stamford, and said that, if the last day had come,
he desired to be found at his place doing his duty,
and therefore moved that candles be brought in, so
that the House could proceed with its duty.
There was quietness in that man’s mind, the
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
quietness of heavenly wisdom and inflexible
willingness to obey present duty. Duty, then, is the
sublimest word in our language. Do your duty in all
things like the Old Puritan. You cannot do more; you
should never wish to do less. Never let your mother
A Solemn Hour or me wear one gray hair for any lack of duty on
your part.
—Taken from Of America, Series II
(Excerpt)
By radio on May 19, 1940, Winston C. Churchill
addressed the people of Great Britain, bringing
them up to date regarding the German army’s
advance to overtake Europe, the battles in France,
and the nearness of those battles to the British Isles.
Is not this the appointed time for all to make the
utmost exertions in their power?
Our task is not only to win the battle—but to win
the war. After this battle in France abates its force,
there will come the battle for our island—for all that
Britain is and all that Britain means. That will be the
struggle. In that supreme emergency we shall not
hesitate to take every step, even the most drastic,
to call forth from our people the last ounce and last
inch of effort of which we are capable. The interest
of property, the hours of labor—now nothing
compares to the struggle for life and honor, for right
and freedom, to which we have vowed ourselves.
I have received from the Chiefs of the French Republic
the most sacred pledges that whatever happens they
will fight to the end, be it bitter or be it glorious. Nay,
if we fight to the end, it can only be glorious.
If this is one of the most awe-striking periods in the
long history of France and Britain, it is also beyond
doubt the most sublime. Side by side, unaided
except by their kith and kin in the great Dominions,
and by the Wide Empires which rest beneath their
shield—side by side, the British and French people
have advanced the rescue, not only of Europe, but
mankind from the foulest and most soul-destroying
tyranny which has ever darkened and stained the
pages of history. Behind them, behind the armies
and fleets of Britain and France—gather a group of
shattered states and bludgeoned races: the Czechs,
the Poles, the Norwegians, the Danes, the Dutch,
the Belgians—upon all of whom the long night of
barbarism will descend unbroken even by a star of
hope, unless we conquer, as conquer we must—as
conquer we shall.
Today is Trinity Sunday. Centuries ago words were
written to be a call and a spur to the faithful servants
of truth and justice. “Arm yourselves, and be ye men
of valor, and be in readiness for the conflict; for it is
better for us to perish in battle than to look upon
the outrage of our nation and our altars. As the Will
of God is in Heaven, even so, let it be.”
Having received His Majesty’s commission, I have
formed an administration of men and women of
every party and of almost every point of view. We
have differed and quarreled in the past, but now one
bond unites us all: to wage war until victory is won
and never to surrender ourselves to servitude and
shame, whatever the cost and the agony may be.
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Temperance and Women’s Rights
From 1851 Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth
Cady Stanton (1815-1902) were partners in
the combined crusader for women’s suffrage,
abolitionism, and temperance. In the earlier years
Stanton, unlike Anthony, was busy raising a large
family; she nevertheless served as president of the
Women’s State Temperance Society in New York
and spoke publicly on these important issues.
Again, in discussing the question of temperance,
all lecturers, from the beginning, have made
mention of the drunkards’ wives and children, of
widow’s groans and orphans’ tears. Shall these
classes of sufferers be introduced but as themes
for rhetorical flourish, as pathetic touches of the
speaker’s eloquence? Shall we passively shed tears
over their condition, or by giving them their rights,
bravely open to them the doors of escape from a
wretched and degraded life? Is it not legitimate
Women’s State Temperance Society Convention
in this to discuss the social degradation, the legal
Rochester, New York; 1853
disabilities of the drunkard’s wife? If in showing
We have been obliged to preach women’s rights
her wrongs, we prove the right of all womankind
because many, instead of listening to what we had
to the elective franchise; to a fair representation in
to say on temperance, have questioned the right of
the government; to the right in criminal cases to
a woman to speak on any subject. In courts of justice be tried by peers of her own choosing-shall it be
and legislative assemblies, if the right of the speaker
said that we transcend the bounds of our subject?
to be there is questioned, all business waits until that If in pointing out her social degradation, we show
point is settled. Now, it is not settled in the mass of
you how the present laws outrage the sacredness
minds that woman has any rights on this foot-stool,
of the marriage institution; if in proving to you that
and much less a right to stand on an even pedestal
justice and mercy demand a legal separation from
with man, look him in the face as an equal, and
drunkards, we grasp the higher idea that a unity of
rebuke the sins of her day and generation. Let it be
soul alone constitutes and sanctifies true marriage,
clearly understood, then, that we are a woman’s rights and that any law or public sentiment that forces
society; that we believe it is woman’s duty to speak
two immortal, highborn souls to live together as
whenever she feels the impression to do so; that it is
husband and wife, unless held there by love, is false
her right to be present in all the councils of church
to God and humanity.
and state. The fact that our agents are woman settles
—Elizabeth Cady Stanton
the question of our character on this point.
Great American Speeches
The Whistle
You will hear it said many times that experience
is a hard teacher. It can also be a good teacher,
as this story shows. Benjamin Franklin was one of
the wise men of his time. He realized that what we
amount to in later life is largely the result of the kind
of habits we form when we are young. This story is
about one of the lessons he learned as a boy, and
you can see how it influenced his life. Perhaps there
are lessons that you are learning today or have
already learned that will affect your future as much
as the lesson of “the whistle” affected Franklin’s life.
When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a
holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly
to a shop where they sold toys for children, and being
charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by
the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily
offered and gave all the money for one. I then came
home, and went whistling all over the house, much
pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all my family.
My brothers and sisters, and cousins,
understanding the bargain I had made, told me I
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Student Activities Patriotic Oration Handbook
had given four times as much for it as it was worth;
put me in mind what good things I might have
bought with the rest of the money; and laughed at
me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation,
and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the
whistle gave me pleasure.
When I met with a man of pleasure, sacrificing every
laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune,
to mere corporeal sensations, and ruining his health
in their pursuit, “Mistaken man,” said I, “you are
providing pain for yourself, instead of pleasure; you
give too much for your whistle.”
This, however, was afterward of use to me, the
impression continuing on my mind; so that often,
when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing,
I said to myself, Don’t give so much for the whistle;
and I saved my money.
If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine
houses, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his
fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his
career in a prison, “Alas!” say I, “he has paid dear, very
dear, for his whistle.”
As I grew up, came into the world, and observed
the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very
many, who gave too much for the whistle.
When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married
to an ill-natured brute of a husband, “What a pity,”
say I, ”that she should pay so much for a whistle.”
When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly
employing himself in political bustles, neglecting his
own affairs, and ruining them by neglect, “He pays,
indeed,” said I, “too much for his whistle.” If I knew
a miser, who gave up every kind of comfortable
living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all
the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of
benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating
wealth, “Poor man,” said I, “you pay too much for
your whistle.”
In short, I conceive that great part of the miseries
of mankind are brought upon them by the false
estimates they have made of the value of things,
and by giving too much for their whistles.
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—by Benjamin Franklin
California/Hawaii
California, Hawaii
South-Central
Megan Ilertsen • megan_ilertsen@acsi.org
Dale Phillips • dale_phillips@acsi.org
910 E. Birch St., Suite 260, Brea, CA 92821-5854
714-256-1287 • Fax 714-256-4085 • megan_ilertsen@acsi.org
Eastern Canada
Arkansas, Kansas, Louisiana, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas
Tricia Hays
2001 W. Plano Parkway, Suite 3600, Plano, TX 75075
972-941-4411 • Fax 972-941-4405 • tricia_hays@acsi.org
Southeast
New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Ontario, Prince Edward Island
Ginny Kennedy
1 Wenden Ct., R.R. #2, Minesing, ON L0L 1Y2 Canada
705-728-7344 • Fax 705-728-4401 • gkennedy@acsiec.org
Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina,
Tennessee, Virginia
Jana Csehy
P.O. Box 1537, Snellville, GA 30078-1537
770-985-5840 • Fax 770-985-5847 • jana_csehy@acsi.org
Florida
Western Canada
Florida
Jon Sprankle
461 Plaza Dr., Suite C, Dunedin, Florida 34698
727-734-7096 • Fax 727-734-3666 • jon_sprankle@acsi.org
Alberta, British Columbia, Manitoba, Saskatchewan
Tina Martin
44 Willow Brook Dr. N.W., Airdrie, AB T4B 2J5 Canada
403-948-2332 • Fax 403-948-2395 • info@acsiwc.org
Mid-America/Ohio River Valley
Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kentucky, Michigan, Minnesota, Nebraska,
North Dakota, Ohio, South Dakota, West Virginia, Wisconsin
Roberta (Bobbie) Kelly
6755 Weaver Rd., Suite 1, Rockford, IL 61114
815-282-7070 • Fax 815-282-7086 • bobbie_kelly@acsi.org
Headquarters
Teresa Bolton
731 Chapel Hills Drive, Colorado Springs, Colorado 80920
719-528-6906 • Fax 719-531-0631 • www.acsi.org
Northeast
Connecticut, Delaware, District of Columbia, Maine, Maryland,
Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York,
Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Vermont
Julie Phipps
845 Silver Spring Plaza, Suite B, Lancaster, PA 17601-1183
717-285-3022 • Fax 717-285-2128 • julie_phipps@acsi.org
Northwest
Alaska, Idaho, Montana, Oregon, Washington
Denese Lawson
10818 N.E. Coxley Dr., Suite J, Vancouver, WA 98662-6163
360-256-5860 • Fax 360-256-7357 • denese_lawson@acsi.org
Rocky Mountain
Arizona, Colorado, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, Wyoming
Kathie Boice
1607 N. Wilmot Rd., Suite 104D, Tucson, AZ 85712
520-514-2897 • Fax 520-514-0994 • kathie_boice@acsi.org
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