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Look around thee look around!
Flowers in all the fields abound;
Every running stream is bright;
All the orchard trees are wbite,
And each small and waving shoot
Promises sweet flowers and fruit.

Turn thine eyes to earth and heaven!
God for thee the Spring has given;
Taught the birds their melodies,
Clothed the earth, and cleared the skies,
For thy pleasure or thy food: -
Pour thy soul in gratitude!



Drive the nail aright, boys,

Hit it on the head;
Strike with all your might, boys,

While the iron's red.

When you've work to do, boys,

Do it with a will;
They who reach the top, boys,

First must climb the hill.

Standing at the foot, boys,

Gazing at the sky,
How can you get up, boys.

If you never try?

Though you stumble oft, boys,

Never be down-cast;
Try, and try again, boys,

You'll succeed at last.


Unarmed and unattended walks the Czar

Through Moscow's busy street one winter day. The crowd uncover as his face they see:

“God greet the Czar!” they say.

Along his path there moved a funeral,

Grave spectacle of poverty and woe A wretched sledge, dragged by one weary man

Slowly across the snow.

And on the sledge, blown by the winter wind,

Lay a poor coffin, very rude and bare; And he who drew it bent before his load

With dull and sullen air.

The emperor stopped, and beckoned to the man.

“Who is't thou bearest to the grave ?” he said. “Only a soldier, sire!" the short reply,

"Only a soldier, dead."

“Only a soldier !" musing, said the Czar:

“Only a Russian, who was poor and brave. Move on; I follow. Such an one goes not

Unhonoured to his grave.”

He bent his head, and silent raised his cap;

The Czar of all the Russias, pacing slow, Foll ed the coffin as again it went

Slowly across the snow.

The passers of the street, all wondering,

Looked on that sight, then followed silently; Peasant and prince, and artisan and clerk,

All in one company.

Still as they went, the crowd grow ever more,

Till thousands stood around the friendless grave, Led by that princely heart, who, royal, true,

Honoured the poor and brave.


Bird of the wilderness,

Blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!

Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place
Oh to abide in the desert with thee!

Wild is thy lay and loud,

Far in the downy cloud;
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.

Where, on thy dewy wing,

Where art thou journeying?
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.

O'er fell and fountain sheen,

O’er moor and mountain green,
O’er the red streamer that heralds the day;

Over the cloudlet dim,

Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!

Then, when the gloaming comes,

Low in the heather blooms
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!

Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place
Oh to abide in the desert with thee!


I remember, I remember

The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun

Came peeping in at morn:
He never came a wink too soon,

Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night

Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember

The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups,

Those flowers made of light! The lilacs where the robin built,

And where my brother set The laburnum on his birth-day,

The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember

Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh

To swallows on the wing:
My spirit flew in feathers then,

That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool

The fever on my brow!
I remember, I remember

The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops

Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,

But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heav'n
Than when I was a boy.

T. Hood. 7. SUNSHINE

I love the sunshine everywhere

In wood, and field, and glen; I love it in the busy haunts

Of town-imprisoned men.

I love it when it streameth in

The humble cottage door, And casts the chequered casement shade

Upon the red brick floor.

I love it where the children lie

Deep in the clovery grass,
To watch among the twining roots

The gold-green beetles pass.

I love it on the breezy sea,

To glance on sail and oar, While the great waves, like molten glass,

Come leaping to the shore.

I love it on the mountain-tops,

Where lies the thawless snow,
And half a kingdom , bathed in light,

Lies stretching out below.

How beautiful on little streams,

When sun and shade at play,
Make silvery meshes; while the brook

Goes singing on its way.

How beautiful, where dragon-flies

Are wondrous to behold,
With rainbow wings of gauzy pearl,

And bodies blue and gold !

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