by A. E. Housman
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say
''Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free
But I was one-and-twenty
No use to talk to me
I heard him say again
''The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain
''Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue
And I am two-and-twenty
And oh, ''tis true, ''tis true
A teacher is like Spring
Who nurtures new greensprouts
Encourages and leads them
Whenever they havedoubts
A teacher is like Summer
Whose sunny temperament
Makes studying a pleasure
Preventing discontent
A teacher is like Fall
With methods crisp andclear
Lessons of bright colors
And a happy atmosphere
A teacher is like Winter
While it’s snowing hard outside Keeping students comfortable
As a warm and helpfulguide
With a pleasant attitude
You’re a teacher for all seasons
And you have my gratitude
I''m just a little Puppy and good as good can be,
And why they call me naughty, I''m sure I cannot see,
I''ve only carried off one shoe and torn the baby''s hat
And chased the ducks and spilled the milk—there''s nothing bad in that
Milk or meat or leather for shoes,—
Almost anything that we choose,—
We''ll find the good Cow gives with joy
To every nice little girl and boy
Welcome Back to School
"Dear students, the summer has ended. The school year at last has begun. But this year is totally different. We''re going to only have fun. "We won''t study any mathematics, and recess will last all day long. Instead of the pledge of allegiance, we''ll belt out a rock-and-roll song. "We''ll only play games in the classroom. You''re welcome to bring in your toys. It''s okay to run in the hallways. It''s great if you make lots of noise. "For homework, you''ll play your Nintendo. You''ll have to watch lots of T.V. For field trips we''ll go to the movies and get lots of candy for free. "The lunchroom will only serve chocolate and triple fudge sundaes supreme." Yes, that''s what I heard from my teacher before I woke up from my dream
Autumn
A Fall Song
by Ellen Robena Field
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Golden and red trees Good-by, sweet flowers! Now the days grow cold, I do softly pray |
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