One who would protect thee ever
From the schoolboy, kite, and hawk,
Musing, now obtrudes, but never
Dreamt of plunder in his walk.
He no weasel, stealing slily,
Would permit thy eggs to take;
Nor the polecat, nor the wily
Adder, nor the speckled snake.
May no cuckoo, wandering near thee,
Lay her egg within thy nest;
Nor thy young ones, born to cheer thee,
Be destroyed by such a guest !1
Little flutterer! swiftly flying,
Here is none to harm thee near;
Kite, nor hawk, nor schoolboy prying;—
Little flutterer! cease to fear.
FROM THE GERMAN OF KRUMMACHER.
THE Angel of the flowers, one day,
Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay;
That spirit to whose charge 'tis given
To bathe young buds in dews of heaven ;-
Awaking from his light repose,
The Angel whispered to the rose:
The cuckoo usually deposits her egg in the nest of the hedge-sparrow, who hatches it, and tends the young one as her own a service which the little cuckoo repays by speedily turning out all the other nestlings.
"O fondest object of my care,
Still fairest found, where all are fair;
For the sweet shade thou givest to me,
Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee!"
"Then," said the rose, with deepened glow,
"On me another grace bestow:
The spirit paused in silent thought,—
What grace was there that flower had not?
"Twas but a moment-o'er the rose
A veil of moss the Angel throws,
And, robed in nature's simplest weed,
Could there a flower that rose exceed?
ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION.
you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the
dove,
The linnet, and thrush say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they're silent-the wind is so strong;
What it says
I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm
weather,
And singing, and loving-all come back together.
But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he-
"I love my Love, and my Love loves me.
Coleridge.
SUMMER EVENING AT THE FARM.
Down the deep and miry lane,
Creaking comes the empty wain;
And driver on the shaft-horse sits,
Whistling now and then by fits;
And oft, with his accustomed call,
Urging on the sluggish Ball.
The barn is still, the master's gone,
The thresher puts his jacket on,
While Dick upon the ladder tall,
Nails the dead kite to the wall.
Here comes shepherd Jack at last,—
He has penned the sheep-cote fast;
For 'twas but two nights before,
A lamb was eaten on the moor;
His empty wallet Rover carries,
Nor for Jack, when near home, tarries;
With lolling tongue he runs to try
If the horse-trough be not dry.
The milk is settled in the pans,
And supper messes in the cans;
In the hovel carts are wheeled,
And both the colts are driven a-field;
The snare for Mister Fox is set,
The leaven laid, the thatching wet,
And Bess has slunk away to talk
With Roger, in the holly-walk.
MORNING OR EVENING HYMN.
GREAT God! how endless is Thy love!
Thy gifts are every morning new,
And morning mercies from above
Gently distil, like early dew.
Thou spread'st the curtains of the night,
Great guardian of my sleeping hours!
Thy sovereign word restores the light,
Ånd quickens all my drowsy powers.
I yield my powers to Thy command,
To thee I consecrate my days;
Perpetual blessings from Thy hand
Demand perpetual songs of praise.
THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.
A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,-
The keen demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied, far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark;
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, quite eloquent-
"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
"As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 'twas the self-same power divine
Taught you to sing, and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."
The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Released him as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.
From this short fable, youth may learn
Their real interest to discern;
That brother should not strive with brother,
And worry and oppress each other;
But, joined in unity and peace,
Their mutual happiness increase:
Well pleased another's faults to hide,
And in his virtues feel a pride.
OR, A CHILD'S NOTION OF DEATH.
A SIMPLE child, dear brother Jim,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage girl,
She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head.
The moral here given is by an unknown hand.
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