Philomel forsakes the thorn, From the balmy sweet uncloy'd, Colin's for the promised corn (Ere the harvest hopes are ripe) Anxious;-while the huntsman's horn, Boldly sounding, drowns his pipe. Sweet, O sweet, the warbling throng Echoes to the rising day. LITTLE LILLIE. "I HAVE been to school, father, and tried to be good; And when I came home, as I walk'd through the wood, I saw on the tree a most beautiful bird, And his song was the sweetest that ever I heard. He look'd in my face with his little round eye; And, father, the air was so fresh and so sweet, And the ground was so bright with the beautiful flowers, But I thought it was wrong any longer to stay, And I work'd in my garden, and planted some seeds, I am sure she will tell you that I have been good." “I am glad, little Lillie," the father replied, And sit by my side or climb on my knee; "And I'll tell you why all look'd so happy and gay, As you walk'd home from school through the greenwood to-day; And why the glad song of that beautiful bird "The Lord keeps around us, by day and by night, "For the good thoughts and feelings which they will impart, When you try to do right, will gladden your heart; As you walk'd home from school through the greenwood to-day." AROUND the fire, one wintry night, And jokes went round and careless chat. When, hark! a gentle hand they hear "Cold blows the blast across the moor; And shield me from the biting blast: With hasty step the farmer ran, And close beside the fire they place The poor half-frozen beggar man, With shaking limbs and pallid face. The little children flocking came, And warm'd his stiff'ning hands in theirs; And busily the good old dame A comfortable mess prepares. |