Dost thou covet a summer

More certain of bliss? Go seek thee a country

Far brighter than this;

Where the joys thou hast lost, thou
Shalt never deplore,

And the friends thou hast chosen

Shall quit thee no more.

REV. EDWARD CASWALL.

38. The Dove sent from the Ark.

Go, beautiful and gentle dove,
And greet the morning ray;
For lo. the sun shines bright above,
The floods are past away.
No longer drooping here confin'd,
In this cold prison dwell;
Go free to sunshine and to wind,
Go forth, and fare thee well.

Go, beautiful and gentle dove,
Thy welcome sad will be.

When thou shalt hear no voice of love
In murmurs from the tree.

Yet freedom, freedom shalt thou find
From this cold prison cell;

Go, then, to sunshine and to wind,
Go forth, and fare thee well.

W. L. BowLES.

39.

The Contented Blind Boy.

Oн say, what is that thing call'd light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?

What are the blessings of the sight?
Oh, tell a poor blind boy.

You talk of wondrous things you see,
You say the sun shines bright;
I feel him warm, but how can he
Or make it day or night?

My day or night myself I make,
Whene'er I sleep or play :
And could I always keep awake,
With me 'twere always day.

Then let not what I cannot have
My cheer of mind destroy;
While thus I sing I am a king,
Although a poor blind boy.

C. CIBBER.

40. Little Flutt'rer, swiftly flying.

LITTLE flutt'rer, swiftly flying,

There is none to harm thee near;
Kite nor hawk nor schoolboy prying,
Little flutt'rer, cease to fear.
One who would protect thee ever
From the schoolboy, kite, or hawk,
Musing now comes near, but never
Dreamt of plunder in his walk.

May no cuckoo wand'ring near thee
Lay her egg within thy nest,

Nor thy young ones, born to cheer thee,
Be destroy'd by such a guest.
Little flutt'rer, swiftly flying,

There is none to harm thee near;
Kite nor hawk nor schoolboy prying,
Little flutt'rer, cease to fear.

41.

The Humming-Bird.

THE humming-bird, the humming-bird,
So fairy-like and bright,

It lives among the sunny flow'rs,
A creature of delight;

In radiant islands of the East,
Where fragrant spices grow,

A thousand thousand humming-birds
Go glancing to and fro.

Like living fires they flit about
Scarce larger than a bee,
Among the broad palmetto leaves,

And through the fan palm-tree. And in the wild and verdant woods Where lofty moras tower;

Where hangs from branching tree to tree The stately passion-flow'r.

Thou happy happy humming-bird,

No storms around thee low'r; Thou never saw'st a leafless tree,

Nor land without a flow'r.

A reign of summer joyfulness
To thee for life is given;

Thy food the honey from the flow'r,
Thy drink the dew from heaven.

MARY HOWITT.

42.

The Convent-Bell.

FAR, far o'er hill and dale,
On the winds stealing,
List to the convent-bell,
Sweetly pealing.

Hark! hark! it seems to say,
As melt those sounds away,
So life's short joys decay

While now they're fleeting.

Now through the charmed air,
Slowly ascending,

List to the chanted prayer,
Solemnly blending.

Hark, hark! it seems to say,
Turn from vain joys away,
To those which ne'er decay;
For life is ending.

43.

The Child's Wish.

I WISH I were a little bird,

To fly so far and high,

And sail along the golden clouds,

And through the azure sky.

I'd be the first to see the sun

Up from the ocean spring;

And ere it touch'd the glitt'ring spire.
Its ray should gild my wing.

Above the hills I'd watch him still

Far down the crimson west, And sing to him my evening song Ere yet I sought my rest. And many a land I then should see, As hill and plain I cross'd; Nor fear, through all the pathless sky, That I should ere be lost.

Now if I climb our highest hill,

How little can I see!

Oh, had I but a pair of wings,
How happy should I be !
I wish I were a little bird,
To fly so far and high,
To sail along the golden clouds,
And through the azure sky.

44. Ariel's Song-Where the
Bee sucks.

WHERE the bee sucks, there lurk I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I crouch when owls do cry:
On the bat's back I do fly,

After sunset, merrily.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.