66 The Pebble and the Acorn. 57 THE PEBBLE AND THE ACORN. AM a Pebble, and yield to none !" I am abiding, while ages flee. The pelting hail and the drizzling rain That's gone from sight, and under the sod! The Acorn was shocked at the rude salute, And quickly retire from the sight of one And soon, in the earth, she sunk away From the comfortless spot where the Pebble lay. But it was not long ere the soil was broke By the peering head of an infant oak! What was enclosed in its simple shell ; In the narrow space of its little cup! And meekly to sink in the darksome earth, To come and admire the beautiful tree, I have been idling from year to year. But never, from this, shall a vaunting word Shall show the purpose for which I've been!" H. F. GOULd. The Pet Lamb. 59 THE PET-LAMB. (HE dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; drink!" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied No other sheep were near, the lamb was all alone, The lamb while from her hand he thus his supper took Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his tail with pleasure shook. "Drink, pretty creature, drink," she said in such a tone That I almost received her heart into my own. 'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare! Towards the lamb she looked; and from that shady place I unobserved could see the workings of her face: If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring, Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little maid might sing,— "What ails thee, young one? What? Why pull so at thy cord? Is it not well with thee? Well both for bed and board? What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart? Thy limbs, are they not strong? And beautiful thou art : This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers: And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears! If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain, Rest, little young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home: A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam? A faithful nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee yean Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have been. Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in this can And twice in the day when the ground is wet with dew Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now, Then I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough; My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold. It will not, will not rest!-poor creature, can it be And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor hear. The Chameleon. Alas, the mountain tops that look so green and fair! I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come there; The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play, When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey. Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the sky; -As homeward through the lane I went with lazy feet, And it seemed, as I retraced the ballad line by line, Again, and once again did I repeat the song; 61 "Nay," said I, "more than half to the damsel must belong, For she looked with such a look, and she spake with such a tone, That I almost received her heart into my own. WORDSWORTH. THE CHAMELEON. FT has it been my lot to mark A proud, conceited, talking spark, To guard their master 'gainst a post; Returning from his finished tour, |