How beautiful on harvest slopes, Oh, yes! I love the sunshine! Is sunshine on the earth! MARY HOWITT. 9. THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF. "Oh! call my brother back to me! I cannot play alone; The summer comes with flower and bee Where is my brother gone? The butterfly is glancing bright, I care not now to chase its flight - The flowers run wild the flowers we sow'd Our vine is drooping with its load Oh! call him back to me!" "He would not hear thy voice, fair child, He may not come to thee; The face that once like Spring-time smiled, "A rose's brief bright life of joy: Such unto him was given: Go thou must play alone, my boy! Thy brother is in heaven!" "And has he left his birds and flowers; And through the long, long summer hours, "And by the brook and in the glade, Are all our wanderings o'er? Oh! while my brother with me play'd, Would I had loved him more!" FELICIA HEMANS. 9. THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE. When I was sick and lay a-bed, And sometimes for an hour or so And sometimes sent my ships in fleets I was the giant great and still And sees before him, dale and plain, R. L. STEVENSON. 10. YOUTH AND MANHOOD. Youth, that pursuest with such eager pace Thou pantest on, to win a mournful race: Pause and luxuriate in thy sunny plain; Once past, thou never wilt come back again, The hills of manhood wear a noble face, The mist of light from which they take their grace The dark and weary path those cliffs between And how it leads to regions never-green, Pause, while thou mayst, nor deem that fate thy gain, Which, all too fast, Will drive thee forth from this delicious plain, A man at last. LORD HOUGHTON. 11. DOLLY AND DICK. Dolly came into the meadow The little birds heard her sobbing; That she had such sorrowful eyes? "I am unhappy!" cried Dolly, Sobbing aloud in despair; "I fought with Dick in the garden, And pulled out a lot of his hair." Softly there flew down a robin Of a pool which the wind has stirred: "After the night comes the morning, "It is a pity to quarrel; I think it never is right: "We love, and so we are happy; No beautiful thing ever ends: 'Tis good to cry and be sorry, But better to kiss and be friends." "What made you come back?" asked Dicky, As they kissed on the nursery stairs. "I met," said Dolly, "a robin Who, I think, was saying his prayers." E. COXHEAD. 12. A CHILD'S SONG. "I see the Moon, and the Moon sees me, Old Rhyme. Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving? Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving? Are you tired with rolling, and never Why look so pale, and so sad, as for ever Ask me not this, little child! if you love me; I must obey my dear Father above me Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving? Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving? LORD HOUGHTON. 13. THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP. What hidest thou in thy treasure-caves and cells, We ask not such from thee. |