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THE SUCCORY.

MARGARET DELAND.

Oh not in ladies' gardens,
My peasant posy,
Smile thy dear blue eyes ;
Nor only — nearer to the skies
In upland pastures,
Dim and sweet;
But by the dusty road,
Where tired feet
Toil to and fro,
Where flaunting sin
May see thy heavenly hue,
Or weary sorrow look from thee
Toward that tenderer blue.

LITTLE WHITE LILY.

GEORGE MACDONALD.

LITTLE white Lily
Sat by a stone,
Drooping and waiting
Till the sun shone.
Little white Lily
Sunshine has fed ;
Little white Lily
Is lifting her head.

Little white Lily
Said, “It is good —
Little white Lily's
Clothing and food.
Little white Lily
Drest like a bride!
Shining with whiteness,
And crowned beside!

Little white Lily
Droopeth with pain,
Waiting and waiting
For the wet rain.
Little white Lily
Holdeth her cup;
Rain is fast falling
And filling it up

.

Little white Lily
Said, “Good again –
When I am thirsty
To have fresh rain !
Now I am stronger;
Now I am cool;
Heat cannot burn me,
My veins are so full.”

Little white Lily
Smells very sweet :
On her head sunshine,
Rain at her feet.

“ Thanks to the sunshine,
Thanks to the rain !
Little white Lily
Is happy again!

TO VIOLETS.

ROBERT HERRICK.

WELCOME, Maids of Honor,

You do bring

In the spring And wait upon her.

She has virgins many,

Fresh and fair ;

Yet you are More sweet than any.

Y are the Maiden Posies

And so graced

To be placed 'Fore damask roses.

Yet, though thus respected,

By and by

Ye do lie, Poor girls, neglected.

VIOLETS.

J. MOULTRIE.

UNDER the green hedges after the snow,
There do the dear little violets grow,
Hiding their modest and beautiful heads
Under the hawthorn in soft mossy beds.

Sweet as the roses, and blue as the sky,
Down there do the dear little violets lie;
Hiding their heads where they scarce may

be

seen, By the leaves you may know where the violet hath been.

THE RIVER.

CAROLINE B. SOUTHEY.

RIVER! River! little River !

Bright you sparkle on your way,
O'er the yellow pebbles dancing,
Through the flowers and foliage glancing,

Like a child at play.
River! River! swelling River !

On you rush o'er rough and smooth
Louder, faster, brawling, leaping
Over rocks, by rose-banks sweeping,

Like impetuous youth.
River! River! brimming River !

Broad and deep and still as Time;
Seeming still yet still in motion,

Tending onward to the ocean,

Just like mortal prime.
River! River! rapid River !

Swifter now you slip away;
Swift and silent as an arrow,
Through a channel dark and narrow,

Like life's closing day.
River! River! headlong River !

Down you dash into the sea ;
Sea, that line hath never sounded,
Sea, that voyage hath never rounded,

Like eternity.

THE SPACIOUS FIRMAMENT ON HIGH.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
The unwearied sun from day to day
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;

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