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The sun shines out so bright,
Are singing for delight; The young grass looks so fresh and green,
The lambkins sport and play, And I can skip and run about
As merrily as they. I like to see the daisy
And the buttercups once more, The primrose and the cowslip too,
And every pretty flower.
With fluttering painted wing,
So pleased to see the spring.
Are jumping up on high,
As she mounts into the sky;
Upon the great tall tree,
And as happy as can be.
There's not a cloud upon the sky,
There's nothing dark or sad,
I feel so very glad;
Who made each pretty thing,
For bringing back the spring.
A modest violet grew;
As if to hide from view.
Its colours bright and fair;
Instead of hiding there. Yet there it was content to bloom.
In modest tints array'd ; And there diffused a sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade. Then let me to the valley go,
This pretty flower to see; That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
THE HIVE BEE.
CHILD of patient industry,
THE SPIDER AND THE FLY.
A NEW VERSION OF AN OLD STORY.
“Will you walk into my parlour ?"
Said the Spider to the Fly; “ 'Tis the prettiest little parlour
That ever you did spy ;
The way into my parlour
Is up a winding stair,
To show when you are there." “Oh no, no,” said the little Fly,
“To ask me is in vain, For, who goes up your winding stair
Can ne'er come down again.
With soaring up so high;
Said the Spider to the Fly. “There are pretty curtains drawn around;
The sheets are fine and thin, And if you like to rest awhile,
I'll snugly tuck you in !" “Oh no, no,” said the little Fly,
“For I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again,
Who sleep upon your bed !”
“Dear friend, what can I do, To prove the warm affection,
I have always felt for you? I have within my pantry,
Good store of all that's nice ; I'm sure you're very welcome--
Will you please to take a slicn ?”
“Oh no, no," said the little Fly,
“Kind sir, that cannot be; I've heard what's in your pantry,
And I do not wish to see !" “Sweet creature !” said the Spider,
“ You’re witty and you're wise, How handsome are your gauzy wings,
How brilliant are your eyes !
Upon my parlour shelf,
You shall behold yourself.”
“ For what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now,
I'll call another day.”
And went into his den,
Would soon come back again :
In a little corner sly, And set his table ready,
To dine upon the Fly. Then he came out to his door again,
And merrily did sing, “ Come hither, hither, pretty Fly,
With the pearl and silver wing ;