THE THOUGHTLESS MAN.

TH

HERE came to my window,
One morning in spring,

A sweet little robin;

She came there to sing;
And the tune she sung
Was prettier far

Than ever I heard
On flute or guitar.

She raised her light wings
To soar far away,
Then resting a moment,
Seemed sweetly to say,
"Oh, happy, how happy
This world seems to be;
Awake, little girl,

And be happy with me.”

But just as she finished
Her beautiful song,
A thoughtless young man
With a gun came along;
He killed and he carried
My sweet bird away,
And she no more will sing
At dawn of the day.

THE WORLD IS FULL OF BEAUTY.

HERE is beauty in the forest

THE

Where the trees are green and fair,

There is beauty in the meadow

Where wild flowers scent the air;
There is beauty in the sunlight,
And the soft blue beams above:
Oh, the world is full of beauty
When the heart is full of love!

I'LL NEVER USE TOBACCO.

"LL never use tobacco, no,

I'LL

It is a filthy weed;

I'll never put it in my mouth,"

Said little Robert Reid.

"Why, there was idle Jerry Jones,

As dirty as a pig,

Who smoked when only ten years old,
And thought it made him big.

"He'd puff along the open street,
As if he had no shame;

He'd sit beside the tavern door,
And there he'd do the same.

"He spent his time, and money too,
And made his mother sad;

She feared a worthless man would come From such a worthless lad.

46

"Oh no, I'll never smoke nor chew;

'T is very wrong, indeed;

It hurts the health, it makes bad breath," Said little Robert Reid.

MY FATHER'S AT THE HELM.

THE Boat assailed;

HE curling waves with awful roar

And pallid fear's distracting power
O'er all on board prevailed, -

Save one, the captain's darling child,
Who steadfast viewed the storm,
And cheerful, with composure smiled
At danger's threatening form.

"Why sport'st thou thus," a seamen cried, "While terrors overwhelm?"

"Why should I fear?" the boy replied, "My father's at the helm!"

So when our worldly all is reft,
Our earthly helper gone,

We still have one true anchor left,
God helps, and he alone.

Then turn to Him, 'mid sorrows wild,
When want and woes o'erwhelm,
Remembering, like the fearless child,
Our Father's at the helm.

FREEDOM.

S true Freedom but to break

Is true for our own dear sake,

And, with leathern hearts, forget
That we owe mankind a debt?
No! true Freedom is to share
All the chains our brothers wear,
And, with heart and hand, to be
Earnest to make others free!

They are slaves who fear to speak
For the fallen and the weak;

They are slaves who will not choose

Hatred, scoffing, and abuse,

Rather than in silence shrink

From the truth they needs must think;
They are slaves who dare not be
In the right with two or three.

EXAGGERATION.

[Two girls seated.]

USAN. Oh, sister, I am tired to death!

ST

mean?

Mary. Tired to death! Why, Susan, what do you

Susan. I am almost tired to death, then, if that will suit you any better.

Mary. I think that is wrong, too; it is not true, and we ought always to speak the truth.

Susan. Well, at any rate, I could not walk another step, -no, not for the world.

Mary. Why, yes, you could and would, sister.

Susan. No, I am sure I would not; nothing could tempt

me to.

Mary. I am very sorry for that, for I am going down to the Museum, and I was going to ask you to go with me. Susan. [Hastily rising.] What, to the Museum! O, do let me go. I should delight to go.

Mary. But how can you, if you are tired almost to death? You say nothing could tempt you to go as far as the school, and yet the Museum is much further.

Susan. O, I am quite rested now, dear sister; and I would not miss of going, for the world.

Mary. I will let you go with me, if you will be more careful of your speaking hereafter. In one minute you say you are almost dead, and that you cannot possibly walk, and the next minute you say you can walk well enough. Is not such a manner of talking all wrong? Is it not wicked? We should say only what we mean, and that should be truthful.

Susan. You are right, dear sister; and, if you will let me go with you this time, I will promise to be more careful of my speech, hereafter.

Mary. I surely hope you will; and now, if you will get ready, we will go.

"LOOK NOT UPON THE WINE."

L

OOK not upon the wine when it

Is red within the cup!

Stay not for pleasure when she fills

Her tempting beaker up!

Though clear its depths, and rich its glow,

A spell of madness lurks below.

They say 't is pleasant on the lip,
And merry on the brain;

They say it stirs the sluggish blocd,
And dulls the tooth of pain.

Ay,

but within its glowing deeps, A stinging serpent, unseen, sleeps.

Its rosy lights will turn to fire,
Its coolness change to thirst;
And, by its mirth, within the brain
A sleepless worm is nursed.
There's not a bubble at the brim,
That does not carry food for him.

Then dash the brimming cup aside,
And spill its purple wine;
Take not its madness to thy lip-

Let not its curse be thine.

'T is red and rich, but grief and woe