GRADE 2

 What Can`t You Do without...?

Without your tongue
You cannot Talk.
Without your feet
You cannot walk.
Without your eyes 
You cannot see.
Without your your heart
You cannot be!

Only One Heart.

I`ve got two legs .

 With which I walk.
I`ve got a tongue
With which I talk.
I`ve got two eyes
With which I see.
I`ve got one heart.
To live and be

GRADE 3

I Love My Dog

I’ve got a dog,

his name is Jack

His  head is white,

 his nose is black.

I take him out

Every day.

Such fun we have!

 We run and play.

Such clever  tricks

My dog can do.

I lоve my dog!

He loves me too!

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?

I've been to London to see the fair Queen.

Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?

I frightened a little mouse, under her chair.

GRADE 4

 “If I Were a Bird”

 If I were a bird,
       I wouldn’t like to be
In a little cage
       Where I couldn’t be free

I’d want to spread
       My wings and fly
Over the tree – tops
       And into the sky.
I’d visit my friends
       Who live very far,
Then I’d fly up high
        And sit on a star. 

Edith Segal

Whole Duty of Children

A child should always say what's true

And speak when he is spoken to,

And behave mannerly at table;

At least as far as he is able.

by  Robert Louis Stevenson

What Does the Bee Do?
Christina Rossetti

What does the bee do?
Bring home honey.
And what does Father do?
Bring home money.
And what does Mother do?
Lay out the money.
And what does baby do?
Eat up the honey.

GRADE  5

"There was a wise old owl who lived in an oak
The more he heard, the less he spoke
The less he spoke, the more he heard -
Oh, if men were  all like that wise bird?"

A Book

Emily Dickinson

There is no frigate like a book

To take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

Of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

That bears a human soul!

Bird Talk

“Think!” said the Robin.
“Think!” said the Jay.

sitting in the garden,

talking one day.

“Think about people – 
The way they grow:
They don’t have feathers
At all, you know.
They don’t eat beetles,
They don’t grow wings,
They don’t like sitting
On wires and things.”
“Think!” said the Robin.
“Think!” said the Jay.
“Aren’t people funny
To be that way?”
 by Aileen Fisher

Trees
Sarah Coleridge

The Oak is called the king of trees,
The Aspen quivers in the breeze,
The Poplar grows up straight and tall,
The Peach tree spreads along the wall,
The Sycamore gives pleasant shade,
The Willow droops in watery glade,
The Fir tree useful in timber gives,
The Beech amid the forest lives.

A Caution

If your lips

       Would keep from slips,

       Of these five things beware:
Of whom you speak,

To whom you speak,
     And how, and when, and where.”

GRADE 6

I Wonder

I wonder why the grass is green,

And why the wind is never seen.

Who taught the birds to build a nest,

And told the trees to take a rest?

And when the moon is not quite round,

Where can the missing bit be found?

Who lights the stars, when they blow out,

And makes the lightning flash about?

Who paints the rainbow in the sky,

And hangs the fluffy clouds so high?

Why is it now, do you suppose,

That Dad won’t tell me if he knows?

Jeannie Kirby

The Lamb

William Blake

Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bade 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;
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a lamb;
He is meek and he is mild,
He became a little child.
A child and thou a lamb,
We are called by his name.
Little lamb, God bless thee!
Little lamb, God bless thee!

GRADE 7A

A  Joke

They walked in the lane together,

The sky was covered with stars,

They reached the gate in silence,

He lifted down the bars.

She neither smiled nor thanked him

Because she knew not how;

For he was just a farmer's boy

And she — the farmer's cow.

What is Pink?
Christina Rossetti

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!

GRADE 7 B

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.

By A.A. Milne

Winter Pleasures

What a wealth of jolly things

Good old winter always brings!

Ice to skate on, hills to coast –

Don't know which we like the most!

Games to play, and corn to pop –

Midnight seems too soon to stop!

Books to read aloud at night,

Songs to sing and plays to write!

Nona Keen Duffy

Each year does cast a piece of time
One human step for us to climb 

Twelve months of counted nights and days
Completes us through a yearly phase 

One thing's for sure while we do live
We’ll never know what life will give 

Anticipation's just a view
For what may happen, could come true 

So many times we’re filled with thought
Some last a lifetime, some do not 

We live through choices made within
How we should strive to stave off sin 

Pray often for what’s good to be
And let your love spread openly 

God clearly wants for us to know
His way leads to eternal glow 

Do greet first day with hope held high
And keep your heart your watchful eye.

Roger J. Robicheau

Two Little Kittens
Anonymous (circa 1880)

Two little kittens, one stormy night,
Began to quarrel, and then to fight;
One had a mouse, the other had none,
And that's the way the quarrel begun.

"I'll have that mouse," said the biggest cat;
"You'll have that mouse? We'll see about that!"
"I will have that mouse," said the eldest son;
"You shan't have the mouse," said the little one.

I told you before 'twas a stormy night
When these two little kittens began to fight;
The old woman seized her sweeping broom,
And swept the two kittens right out of the room.

The ground was covered with frost and snow,
And the two little kittens had nowhere to go;
So they laid them down on the mat at the door,
While the old woman finished sweeping the floor.

Then they crept in, as quiet as mice,
All wet with the snow, and cold as ice,
For they found it was better, that stormy night,
To lie down and sleep than to quarrel and fight.

GRADE 8A

If I Were a King

I often wish I were a King,

And then I could do anything.

If only I were King of Spain,

I'd take my hat off in the rain.

If only I were King of France,

I wouldn't brush my hair for aunts.

I think, if I were King of Greece,

I'd push things off the mantelpiece.

If I were King of Norroway,

I'd ask an elephant to stay.

If I were King of Babylon,

I'd leave my button gloves undone.

If I were King of Timbuctoo,

I'd think of lovely things to do.

If I were King of anything,

I'd tell the soldiers, "I'm the King!"

1. Milne

Young and Old
Charles Kingsley

When all the world is young lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
When all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down;
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young.

GRADE 8B

School Days

The happiest days of your whole life!

(So all the grown-ups say),

But I would never go to school

If I could have my way.

My pencil point is broken,

My pen runs out of ink.

My head’s just filled with sawdust

And with sawdust you can’t think.

My books are in a dreadful state

With ink blots here and there,

My school hat is so cumbersome

And horrible to wear.

The happiest days of your whole life!

(So all the grown-ups say),

But I would never go to school

If I could have my way.

Susan Whitworth

Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

W. H. Davies

A grandmother has a special talent -
She always knows just what to do
To make her grandchildren happy
And to show she loves them, too. 

At the family get-togethers,
She's the first person to look for -
She can entertain small children for hours,
And they always keep asking for more. 

You can tell when a grandmother's teasing
By the twinkle that shines in her eyes-
She's an expert at settling problems,
For she's loving, patient and wise. 

Her grandchildren always admire her,
Even when they are grown -
They always feel proud and happy
To claim Grandmother as their own!

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost

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.

GRADE 9A

Goldenhair

Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair,
I hear you singing
A merry air.

My book was closed;
I read no more,
Watching the fire dance
On the floor.

I have left my book,
I have left my room
For I heard you singing
Through the gloom,

Singing and singing
A merry air.
Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair.

by James Joyce

A Poison Tree

William Blake

I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole.
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see,
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.

GRADE 9 B

Youth, I do adore thee
 
Crabbed age and youth                                              
Cannot live together:                                                                                                               
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave;
Age like winter bare.
Youth is full o sport,
Age’s breath is short.
Youth is nimble, Age is lame
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold.
Youth is wild and Age is tame.
Age I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee.
O my love, my love is young.
Age I do defy thee.

By W. Shakespeare

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 To Electra

Robert Herrick

I dare not ask a kiss,
  I dare not beg a smile,
Lest having that, or this,
  I might grow proud the while.

No, no, the utmost share
  Of my desire shall be
Only to kiss that air
That lately kissed thee.

The Garden of Love

William Blake

I went to the Garden of Love, 
And saw what I never had seen; 
A Chapel was built in the midst, 
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut, 
And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; 
So I turned to the Garden of Love 
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves, 
And tombstones where flowers should be; 
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, 
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

Winter Time 
Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.

Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

Close by the jolly fire I sit,
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap,
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.

Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.

Twilight (Сумерки)

   by G.G. Byron        

It is the hour when from the boughs

The nightingale`s high note is heard;

It is the hour when lovers` vows

Seem sweet in every whisper`d word;

And gentle winds, and water near,

Make music to the lonely ear.

Each flower the dews have lightly wet,

And in the sky the stars are met,

And on the wave is deeper blue,

And on the leaf a browner hue,

And in the heaven that clear obscure,

So softly dark and darkly pure,

Which follows the decline of day,

As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

GRADE 11

Mother o' Mine

If I were hanged on the highest hill, 
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! 
I know whose love would follow me still, 
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! 

If I were drowned in the deepest sea, 
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! 
I know whose tears would come down to me, 
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! 

If I were damned of body and soul, 
I know whose prayers would make me whole, 
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

by Rudyard Kipling

The Falling Star

I saw a star slide down the sky, 
Blinding the north as it went by,
Too burning and too quick to hold,
Too lovely to be bought or sold,
Good only to make wishes on
And then forever to be gone.

by Sara Teasdale

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

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.