Althea Randolph Famous Poems

Althea Randolph first book was published in 1914. This book is mainly for children, but adults also like to read it. Her poetry is very interesting and full of stories which children enjoy very much.

Memory Book

Poet: Althea Randolph

Althea Randolph Famous Poems

Our memory is like a book.
The pages written on
With things we’ve said, and things we’ve thought,
And deeds that we have done.

Now let this Book of Memory,
Be sacred to us all,
Write nothing on a page of it,
We’d care not to recall.

Then when the leaves are backward turned,
To read the story told,
There’ll be no word, no thought, nor deed,
But of the purest gold.


Oh, Just Suppose!

Poet: Althea Randolph

Oh, just suppose each drop of rain
Became a pretty flower; –
How much we’d wish for showers to come
To make the world a bower!

We’d have green showers of mignonette,
And showers of violets, blue.
And purple showers of heliotrope.
Pink showers of roses, too!

We’d have perhaps a shower of gold.
When Spring or Fall was nigh,
And daffodils or golden-rod
Fell down from out the sky!

Sometimes we’d have a rainbow shower
Of wild flowers, every hue!
And oh, I think this shower would be
The prettiest one, don’t you?

And just suppose in Winter-time,
When cold North winds do blow.
We’d have a shower of daisies, white.
Instead of flakes of snow!

A glorious world we’d have, for when
The bright Sim hid its face,
There’d be a shower of brilliant flowers
To quickly take its place!



Poet: Althea Randolph

Many little grains of sand
It takes to make the mighty land;
While alone, they ne’er would be
Anything but sand, you see!

Many drops of water too,
It takes to make the ocean blue;
While alone, they ne’er would make
Ocean, river, or a lake!

Many trees of different kinds,
Within a forest dense, one finds;
Still, together there they stay,
Each one growing in its way!

But suppose they all should hate,
Fight, and then should separate;
All alone, each ne’er would be
Anything except a tree!

So together we should stand,
Like a mighty soldier band.
With Love as armor, then should we.
United, be God’s Family!


I Wonder!

Poet: Althea Randolph

I wonder if the trees and flowers
Have relatives like me;
If Lilies are the cousins to
The Rose and pink Sweet-pea.

If Heliotrope and Violets
Are kin to one another.
Or if they don’t know what it is
To have a baby brother.

I wonder if the Elm and Oak,
The Maple and Pine Tree,
Have uncles, like my Unde Ned,
Who is so good to me.

And now I’d like to know who are
The Mother and the Father;
But then perhaps to have such things.
The trees and flowers don’t bother!


My Rose

Poet: Althea Randolph

I have a little Rose,
And what do you suppose?
It has ten pretty toes,
One cunning little nose.
And hair tied up with bows.
Why, everybody knows
It is my Baby Rose!


When The Day Is Done

Poet: Althea Randolph

When day is done — and lights are out,
And you are tucked in bed;
Remember then the deeds you’ve done,
Recall the words you’ve said.

And if the deeds that day were kind,
The words both gentle, true,
I’m sure the Angels bright will bring
Sweet rest, dear child, to you!


Do And Don’t

Poet: Althea Randolph

Oh, Mary dear, don’t talk so loud!
Do learn to modulate your voice;
Don’t grab the best of everyrthing.
Wait first, till others make their choice;
Add “Thank you” when you say a Yes,
And “Thank you” when you answer No!
Be ladylike and dignified,
And gentle, too, where’er you go!

Don’t pull your hat down on your nose,
Nor chew your gloves while you are out!
Don’t lose the ribbons from your braids,
And let your hair fly all about!
Stand straight upon your feet, my dear.
And turn your toes out when you walk;
Be thoughtful for your little friends,
And let them have a chance to talk!

Don’t tear the buttons off your shoes.
And never, never slam a door!
Another thing, dear child, don’t do –
Drop handkerchiefs upon the floor!
Don’t twist your curls, nor knot your sash;
And never bite your nails, oh, no!
Don’t blot your books, — Do dot your i’s,

Don’t run your words together so!
Your teachers mind, — heed what they say,
Recite your lessons well in school;
When playing with the boys and girls,
Obey always the Golden Rule!
Don’t chatter, chatter all the time,
‘Tis well to be a listener, too;
Don’t fool away each hour of day,

For there is often work to do!
Be prompt, be neat, be kind and good;
And don’t forget yotir prayers at night; —
Do all these Do’s — Don’t do the Don*ts,
And you, my child, will grow up right!


What Do They Say?

Poet: Althea Randolph

What do little flowers say,
As they grow up day by day?
“We are glad that we are fair,
And with fragrance fill the air,
For our pleasure is to give
Happiness to all who live!”
This is what the flowers say.
As they grow up day by day!

What do little birdies say.
As they grow up day by day?
“Let us sing a song so glad,
That to all the world we’ll add
Paeans of praise and joy and love.
In gratitude to God above!”
This is what the birdies say.
As they grow up day by day!

What should little children say.
As they grow up day by day?
“Let us sing as birdies do.
Songs of joy and praises true;
Let us each be as a flower
Budding in Earth’s living-bower.
Shedding sweetness everywhere,
Proving God’s great loving care!


Around The World

Poet: Althea Randolph

Around the tracks my train does run.
And never stops at all.
Until it reaches Budapest
(The station in the hall).

From there it travels on to Rome,
And then to Naples, too;
The bridge across the Baltic Sea,
Is in the bedroom blue.

The table in the library
Is Sweden and Norway;
And to the south, behind the desk.
The City of Bombay.

Then quickly crossing Germany,
And travelling ’round by Spain,
My train arrives in gay Paree,
Which is upon the Seine.

Over the English Channel rough,
Upon a bridge (foot-stool),
Next comes my train to London-Town,
En route for Liverpool.

Across the ocean then it goes
(Which is the parlor floor),
And stops a minute in New York,
The station at the door.

America, my nursery is;
My bed, the Behring Strait,
Upon the ice my train then runs.
And reaches Asia great.

My Mamma’s room is China,
My Papa’s room, Japan;
Prom there, into the hall again,
It goes to Hindustan.

Then back into my Grandma’s room
My train comes steaming fast; –
Around the World it has just been.
But now is Home at last!



Poet: Althea Randolph

With wind and snow I travel
Upon my yearly way;
The birds all fly before me,
The blossoms run away!

The singing streams and rivers,
I cause to cease their song;
The pretty lakes and brooklets,
I dothe in jackets strong.

I hide the grassy meadows
‘Neath soft sheets clean and white;
And cover up the bushes

With crystal jewels bright!
I chase the merry children,
And nip them teasingly;
But as I bring them happy sports,
They gladly welcome me!


The Tree’s Wardrobe

Poet: Althea Randolph

The trees are very vain, I think!
I feel this must be true.
Because they like to change their gowns
As much as people do!

When spring and summer time arrive.
Each one is proudly seen
To don a dress all new and bright,
Made up in shades of green.

In autumn time they make a change,
And robe in gorgeous clothes
Of orange, yellow, red, and bronze.
All trimmed with tints of rose!

But when the winter comes, alas!
I’m sorry for the trees,
For then they wear no clothes at all!
I wonder they don’t freeze!


Grateful Be

Poet: Althea Randolph

Do you ever stop in play.
Just a little prayer to say:
“Let me grateful be always.
Learn to love and to obey”?
Try this simple little way;
It will brighten all the day!



Poet: Althea Randolph

You cannot hear me coming,
My footfall is so light,
But everywhere I journey,
I’m welcomed with delight!

I coax the brooks to babble,
The mountain streams to flow,
I deck the trees with blossoms,
And help the flowers to grow!

I brighten all the landscape,
I bid the birds to sing;
And little children love me,
And know my name is Spring!


Early Morning

Poet: Althea Randolph

I always open both my eyes,
Just as the Sun begins to rise;
When he gets up to shine on me,
I like to keep him company.

My Mamma cries: “Do go to sleep!”
And Papa makes me quiet keep;
So then I take my little toys.
And never make a bit of noise.

I try to read and look at things.
Until I wish that I had wings,
So I could fly right out of bed,
And soar like birds, far overhead!


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