Nestlings: A Collection of Poems

By Ella Fraser Weller

"Nestlings" by Ella Fraser Weller. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Good Press
• Release date: Dec 17, 2019
• ISBN: 4064066177218

Book preview

Ella Fraser Weller

Nestlings

A Collection of Poems

Published by Good Press, 2022

[e-mail]

EAN 4064066177218

Table of Contents

INTRODUCTORY

My Baby's Feet

Two Little Seeds

Edith

The Theft

Who's Afraid

Lullaby

Two of Them

In the Meadow

Beatrice

My Boy

The Fairy's Motto

A Reverie

My Choice

Elliott

Three Little Kittens

What is the Use of Trying?

Only Five

Unreconciled

The Naughty Dolly

Mabel's Lesson

Baby Kathleen

Two Boys

LOVINGLY DEDICATED

TO THE CHILDREN WHOSE FACES

ARE

PICTURED WITHIN

Table of Contents

INTRODUCTORY

Table of Contents

These selections have come of occasions. They were not meant for the public eye. The thought of a possible book had given them greater unity, and the vision of a possible critic had probably modified their form. The mother-love for children called for them and they came; there is a conspiracy of mother-loves and the fugitive poems became a book.

The accompanying illustrations are shadows of real faces and may be readily duplicated in any limited circle.

Nestlings may serve as an album for some innocent faces, and perpetuate some possibly helpful sentiment.

S. H. WELLER

Los Angeles, California

My Baby's Feet

Table of Contents

Within my palm, like roseleaves, dainty, sweet,

I fold with tenderest love two little feet—

Two little feet, twin flow'rets come to bring

To mother's heart the first sweet breath of spring.

Wearied with play, at last they lie at rest,

One satin sole against its fair mate pressed.

Dear little feet, fain would this hand 'ere shield

Thy tender flesh from thorns which lie concealed

Along the path which, stretching through the years,

Leads on to God, through joy and silent tears,

Oh, would that I could pluck from thy dear way

Whate'er might tempt these little feet to stray,

What though my hands be torn by thorn