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Old age (which few of us shall know) now puts a period to my woe. Would you true happiness attain, let honesty your passions rein; so live in credit and esteem, and the good name you lost redeem." "The counsel's good," a son replies, "could we perform what you advise. Think what our ancestors have done,-a line of thieves from son to son. the long disgrace, and infamy hath marked our race. harmless sheep should feed, honest in thought, in word, in deed, whatever hen-roost is decreased, we shall be thought to share the feast. The change would never be believed :—a lost good name is ne'er retrieved."

To us descends Though we like

"Nay, then," replies the feeble Fox," but hark, I hear a hen that clucks! go; but be moderate in your food; a chicken, too, might do me good."

17.-EARLY RISING.-Lady F. Hastings.

Get up, little sister, the morning is bright,

And the birds are all singing to welcome the light;
The buds are all opening, the dew's on the flower,—
If you shake but a branch, see there falls quite a shower.

The bee, I dare say, has been long on the wing
To get honey from every flower of Spring;
For the bee never idles, but labours all day,
And thinks (wise little insect!) work better than play.
The lark's singing gaily; it loves the bright sun,
And rejoices that now the gay Spring is begun ;
For the Spring is so cheerful, I think 'twould be wrong
If we did not feel happy to hear the lark's song.
Get up; for when all things are merry and glad,
Good children should never be lazy or sad;
For God gives us daylight, dear sister! that we
May rejoice like the lark, and may work like the bee.

18.-THE COUNTRY IN MARCH.-Wordsworth.

'The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun; the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest; the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising; there are forty feeding like one! 2 Like an army defeated the snow hath retreated, and now it doth fare ill on the top of the bare hill; the ploughboy is whooping anon; there's joy in the mountains; there's life in the fountains; small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing ;-the chill rain is over and gone!

19.-THE LARK AND THE NIGHTINGALE.-Hartley Coleridge.

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For

'Tis sweet to hear the merry Lark, that bids a blithe good-morrow; but sweeter to hark, in the twinkling dark, to the soothing song of sorrow. 2 Oh Nightingale! What doth she ail? And is she sad or jolly? ne'er on earth was sound of Mirth so like to Melancholy. 3 The merry Lark, he soars on high,—no worldly thought o'ertakes him; he sings aloud to the clear blue sky, and the daylight that awakes him. As sweet a lay, as loud, as gay, the Nightingale is trilling; with feeling bliss no less than his, her little heart is thrilling. Yet ever and anon, a sigh peers through her lavish mirth; for the Lark's bold song is of the sky, and hers is of the earth. By night and day she tunes her lay, to drive away all sorrow; for bliss, alas! to-night must pass,—and woe may come to-morrow!

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20. THE MOTHER AND CHILD.-Mrs. Wells.

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'Behold the little baby boy! a happy babe is he: his face how bright, his heart how light, his throne his mother's knee. Now, in her face with laughing eye I see him gaily peep; and now, at rest upon her breast, he gently sinks to sleep. His lips are red, his teeth like pearls,-the rogue! he has but two; his golden hair, how soft and fair; his eyes, how bright and blue! 4 His tiny hands are white and plump; and, waking or asleep, beneath his clothes, his little toes, how cunningly they peep! many things are beautiful! the bird that sings and flies; the setting sun when day is done; the rainbow in the skies; my own pet lamb is innocent, and full of play is he; the violet, with dew-drops wet, is sweet and fair to see; 7 but there is one more beautiful,-gay, tender, sweet, and mild,-a baby boy with heart of joy,-a loved and loving child!

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21.-POOR DOG TRAY.-Campbell.

On the green banks of Shannon when Sheelah was nigh,

No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I;

No harp like my own could so cheerily play,

And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.

When at last I was forced from my Sheelah to part,
She said (while the sorrow was big at her heart),
Oh! remember your Sheelah when far, far away:
And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog Tray.
Poor dog! he was faithful and kind to be sure,
And he constantly loved me although I was poor;
When the sour-looking folk sent me heartless away,
I had always a friend in my poor dog Tray.

5 Oh!

When the road was so dark, and the night was so cold,
And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old,
How snugly we slept in my old coat of grey,
And he lick'd me for kindness-my old dog Tray.
Though my wallet was scant I remember'd his case,
Nor refused my last crust to his pitiful face;
But he died at my feet on a cold winter day,
And I play'd a lament for my poor dog Tray.
Where now shall I go, poor, forsaken, and blind?
Can I find one to guide me, so faithful and kind?
To my sweet native village, so far, far away,
I can never return with my poor dog Tray.

22.-INFANTINE INQUIRIES.-Brown.

"Tell me, O mother! when I grow old,
Will my hair, which my sisters say is like gold,
Grow gray, as the old man's, weak and poor.
Who ask❜d for alms at our pillar'd door?
Shall I look as sad, shall I speak as slow
As he, when he told us his tale of woe?
Will my hands then shake, and my eyes be dim?
Tell me, O mother! shall I grow like him?
"He said-but I knew not what he meant-
That his aged heart with sorrow was rent.
He spoke of the grave as a place of rest,
Where the weary sleep in peace, and are blest;
And he told how his kindred there were laid,

And the friends, with whom, in his youth, he play'd;
And tears from the eyes of the old man fell,
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 followed afar, with a heart as light

As its sparkling wings, the butterfly's flight;

And pulled young flowers, where they grew 'neath the beams

Of the sun's fair light, by his own blue streams ;

Yet he left all these through the world to roam!

Why, O mother! did he leave his home ?"

"Calm thy young thoughts, my own fair child!
The fancies of youth and age are beguiled ;-

Though pale grow thy cheeks, and thy hair turn gray,
Time cannot steal the Soul's youth away!

There's a land, of which thou hast heard me speak,

Where age never wrinkles the dwellers' cheek;
But in joy they live, fair child! like thee-
It was there the old man long'd to be!

"Though ours is a pillared and lofty home,
Where Want, with his pale train, never may come,
Oh! scorn not the poor with the scorner's jest,
Who seek in the shade of our hall to rest;
For HE, who hath made the poor, may soon
Darken the sky of our glowing noon;

And leave us with woe, in the world's bleak wild-
Oh! soften the griefs of the poor, my child!"

23. THE FAIRIES.-W. Allingham.

Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting for fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk, trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap, and white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore some make their home;
They live on crispy pancakes of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs, all night awake.
High on the hill-top the old King sits;

He is now so old and grey he's nigh lost his wits.
He oft goes up with music on cold starry nights,
To sup with the Queen of the gay Northern Lights.

By the craggy hill-side, through the mosses bare,

They have planted thorn-trees for pleasure here and there. Is any man so daring as dig one up in spite?

He shall find the thornies set in his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting for fear of fairy men;
Wee folk, good folk, trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap, and white owl's feather!

24. THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOWWORM.-Cowper.

A Nightingale, that all day long had cheered the village with his song, -nor yet at eve his note suspended, nor yet when even-tide 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 Glowworm 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, right 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 this short oration; and, warbling out his approbation, released him, as my story tells, and found his supper somewhere else.

25.-THOSE EVENING BELLS.-Moore.

Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those joyous hours have passed away,
And many a heart that then was gay
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.
And so 't will be when I am gone,—
That tuneful peal will still ring on;
While other bards shall walk these dells,

And sing your praise, sweet evening bells!

26.-THE BABY'S BONNET.-Mrs. Southey.

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Fairies! guard the baby's bonnet! set a special watch upon it! elfin people! to your care I commit it, fresh and fair; neat as neatness, white as snow, see ye keep it ever so. Watch and ward set all about,some within and some without; over it with dainty hand, one her kirtle green expand; two or three about the bow, vigilant concern bestow. score, at least, on either side, 'gainst evil accident provide-fall, or jar, or overlay; and so the precious charge convey through all the dangers of the way. But when these are battled through, fairies! more remains to do; ye must gift, before ye go, the bonnet and the babe also. Gift it to

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