"Sing on in grateful gladness!

Rejoice in this good thing

Which the Lord thy God hath given thee,

The happy power to sing."

FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL.

66 THE FLOWERS ARE BLOOMING EVERYWHERE." C.M.

HE flowers are blooming everywhere,
On every hill and dell;

And oh how beautiful they are,

How sweetly too they smell!

The little birds they spring along,
And look so glad and gay;

I love to hear their pleasant song,
I feel as glad as they.

The young lambs bleat and frisk about,

The bees hum round their hive;

The butterflies are coming out;

"Tis good to be alive!

M

The trees that looked so stiff and gray,

With green wreaths now are hung;
O mother! let me laugh and play,
I cannot hold my tongue.

See, yonder bird spreads out his wings,
And mounts the clear blue skies;
And hark! how merrily he sings,
As far away he flies.

Go forth, my child, and laugh and play,
And let your cheerful voice,

With birds and brooks, and merry May,
Cry out, Rejoice, rejoice!

I would not check your bounding mirth,
My happy little boy;

For He who made this blooming earth,
Smiles on an infant's joy.

2

THE STAR.

WINKLE, twinkle, little star;

How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

7's.

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark;
He could not tell which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep;
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveller in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

JANE TAYLOR.

3

THE VIOLET.

OWN in a green and shady bed

A modest violet grew;

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,

As if to hide from view.

C.M.