“Father, when people die, Will they come back in May?" Tears were in Charley's eye,— "Will they?-dear father, say." "No! they will never come; Upon his father's knee Still Charley kept his place, And very thoughtfully He looked up in his face.-Eliza Lee Follen. THE RAINBOW. COME, see how fast the weather clears, The sun is shining now; And on the last dark cloud appears "Tis God who makes the storm to cease, This lovely bow He stretches forth, And bends from shore to shore,— His own fair token to the earth, Just such a bow shines brightly round INFANTILE INQUIRIES. "TELL me, oh mother! when I grow old, As he, when he told us his tale of woe? Will my hands then shake, and my eyes be dim? "He said-but I knew not what he meant And my sisters wept as they heard his tale! "He spoke of a home, where, in childhood's glee, He chased from the wild flowers the singing bee; And follow'd afar, with a heart as light As its sparkling wings, the butterfly's flight; And pull'd young flowers, where they grew 'neath the beams "Calm thy young thoughts, my own fair child! Though pale grow thy cheeks, and thy hair turn grey, There's a land, of which thou hast heard me speak, Where age never wrinkles the dweller's cheek; But in joy they live, fair boy! like thee It was there the old man long'd to be! "For he knew that those with whom he had played, "Though ours be a pillar'd and lofty home, And leave us with woe, in the world's bleak wild Oh, soften the griefs of the poor, my child!" William P. Brown. SAXON SONG OF SUMMER. SUMMER is a coming in, Loud sing, cuckoo ; Groweth seed, and bloweth mead, Ewe bleateth after lamb; Loweth calf after cow; Bullock starteth, buck departeth; Merry sing, cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo ; Well singeth the cuckoo Sing ever, stop never, Cuckoo, cuckoo; Sing, cuckoo! |