"And while I live, my little girl,

Your lamb shall not be sold,
But play with you upon the moor,
And sleep within the fold."
And so the white pet lamb was saved,
And played upon the moor,
And after little Mary ran
About the cottage-floor.

It fed upon the cowslips tall,
And ate the grass so sweet,
And on the little garden-walk
Pattered its pretty feet;
And with its head upon her lap

The little lamb would lay

Asleep beneath the elm-tree's shade,

Upon the summer's day,

While she twined flowers around its neck,

And called it her "sweet May."

Thomas Miller.

THE DAISY.

WHAT hand but His who arched the skies,
And pours the day-spring's living flood,
Wondrous alike in all He tries,

Could raise the daisy's purple bud,
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,
Its fringed border nicely spin,
And cut the gold-embossed gem,

That, set in silver, gleams within,
And fling it, unrestrained and free,
O'er hill and dale, and desert sod;
That man, where'er he walks, may see

At every step the stamp of God?-Mason Good.

I'M NOT TOO YOUNG FOR GOD TO SEE.

I'm not too young for God to see;

He knows my name and nature too,

And all day long He looks at me,

And sees my actions through and through.

He listens to the words I say,

And knows the thoughts I have within;

And whether I'm at work or play,

He's sure to see me if I sin.

If some good minister is by,

It makes us careful what we do;

Then how much more ought we to fear

The Lord who sees us through and through.

Then, when I want to do amiss,
However pleasant it may be,
I'll always try to think of this-

I'm not too young for God to see.

THE BETTER LAND.

"I HEAR thee speak of the better land; Thou call'st its children a happy band; Mother! oh where is that radiant shore— Shall we not seek it, and weep no more? Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fireflies dance through the myrtle boughs?" "Not there, not there, my child!”

"Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies;
Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange bright birds on their starry wings
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?"
"Not there, not there, my child!"

"Is it far away, in some region old,

Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold—
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand—
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?”

"Not there, not there, my

child!

"Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy;
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair;
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child!”

Mrs. Hemans.

THE STAR IN THE EAST.

BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid!
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,

Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid!

Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining,
Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him, in slumber reclining,

Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all!

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,
Odours of Edom, and offerings divine;
Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine?

Vainly we offer each ample oblation,

Vainly with gold would his favour secure ;

Richer by far is the heart's adoration,

Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. Heber.

THE CLOCK AND THE DIAL.

IT happen'd on a cloudy morn,
A self-conceited clock in scorn
A dial thus bespoke:

My learned friend, if in thy power,
Tell me exactly what's the hour
I am upon the stroke?

The modest dial thus replied,
That point I cannot now decide,
The sun is in the shade;
My information drawn from him,
I wait till his enlightening beam
Shall be again display'd.

Wait for him, then, return'd the clock, I am not that dependant block

His counsel to implore;

One winding serves me for a week,
And, hearken how the truth I speak--
Ding, ding, ding, ding, just four.

While thus the boaster was deriding
And magisterially deciding,

A sunbeam, clear and strong, Show'd, on the line, three quarters more, And that the clock in striking four

Had told his story wrong.

On this the dial calmly said

(More prompt t'advise than to upbraid): Friend, go be regulated;

Thou answer'st without hesitation,
But he who trusts thy calculation
Will frequently be cheated.

Observe my practice, shun pretence,
Not confidence, but evidence,

An answer meet supplies;
Blush not to say, "I cannot tell :"
Not speaking much but speaking well
Denotes the truly wise.

LITTLE BOY BLUE.

WHEN the corn-fields and meadows
Are pearled with the dew,
With the first sunny shadow
Walks little Boy Blue.