THE CHOSEN TREE.

But one of this little family

Grew tired of his mother's care; He sat all day in a sullen mood, And nought to him looked fair.

For the heart of this little bird was changed,
And he thought he should like to roam
Away o'er the fields, and the high green hills,
In search of a brighter home.

Ah, me! there is not a brighter home
Than that which is lighted by love;1
There is no other light so divinely sweet,
Not the moon nor the stars above.

But he fled away, and he sported awhile,

Amid flowers of each perfume and hue

And when night came on he was weary and cold,

And it rained, and the storm-wind blew.

Ah, then, how he thought of his mother's wing,

Which had covered him tenderly;

And his little brothers so happy and good,

In their home in the chosen tree.

1 lighted by love, made bright and happy by love.

2 divinely sweet, heavenly.

92

THE CHOSEN TREE.

Then he lifted his voice, but none to hear
The sound of his sorrow was nigh;

So he covered his head with his half-fledged'

wing,

And sat on a stone to die.

Oh, never more, in that beautiful wood,
Was the song of his gladness heard ;
And for many a day did his brothers weep
For the loss of the truant bird.

And for many a day no song of joy
Came up from his mother's breast;
She mourned for him with drooping wings,
But he came not again to his nest.

And thus, dear children, from this you may learn,
How even one child may be

The cause of sorrow, which nought may remove
From a little family.

You each have a home in a chosen tree,
Which your parents have lit with love;'
Oh, cause not the shadows of grief to descend,"
The beautiful light to remove.1

From "Little Poems for Little Readers."

1 half-fledged, with feathers half-grown.

2 lit with love, made light and happy with love.

8 descend, come down upon it.

4 remove, to take away.

THE WIND.

THE wind it is a mystic' thing,
Wand'ring o'er ocean wide,
And fanning all the thousand sails
That o'er its billows' glide.3

It curls the blue waves into foam,
It snaps the strongest mast;
Then like a sorrowing thing it sighs,
When the wild storm is past.

And yet how gently does it come
At ev'ning through the bowers,
As if it said a kind "Good night"
To all the closing flowers.

It bears the perfume of the rose,
It fans the insect's wing;
'Tis round me, with me everywhere,
Yet 'tis an unseen thing.

How many sounds it bears along,
As o'er the earth it goes-
The songs of many joyous hearts,
The sounds of many woes!*

1 mystic, strange, wonderful.

2 billows, waves.

8 glide, to move swiftly and smoothly over.

4

woes, sorrows.

94

THE WIND.

It enters into palace halls,

And carries thence the sound
Of mirth and music;—but it creeps
The narrow prison round,

And bears away the captive's sigh
Who sits in sorrow there;
Or from the martyr's1 lonely cell
Conveys his evening prayer.

It fans the reaper's heated brow;
It through the window creeps,
And lifts the fair child's golden curls,
As on her couch she sleeps.

'Tis like the light, a gift to all,

To prince, to peasant given;
Awake, asleep, around us still
There is this gift of Heaven:

This strange, mysterious thing we call
The breeze, the air, the wind;
We call it so, but know no more,–
'Tis mystery, like our mind.

HAWKSHAW.

1 martyr, a Christian who suffers death or persecution for his reli

gion.

2 peasant, a labourer.

THE WIND.

Think not the things most wonderful
Are those beyond our ken,1

For wonders are around the paths,
The daily paths of men!

95

VIOLETS.

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 DONKEY.

POOR patient beast! how sad thy fate,

How rudely, hardly used!

And for thy very patience too,
Most cruelly abused."

1 ken, knowledge.

2 abused, ill-used.