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Did you ever see our baby,

Little Tot;
With her eyes so sparkling bright,
And her skin so lily white,
Lips and cheeks of rosy light?

Tell you what,
She is just the sweetest baby

In the lot.

Ab! she is our only darling,

And to me,
All her little ways are witty ;
And when she sings her little ditty
Every word is just as pretty

As can be ;
Not another in the city

Sweet as she.

You don't think so never saw her ;

Wish you could
See her with her playthings clattering,
Hear her little tongue a-chattering,
Little dancing feet come pattering, -

Think you would
Love her just as well as I do,

If you could !

Every grandma's only darling,

I suppose,
Is as sweet and bright a blossom,
Is a treasure to her bosom,
Is as cheering and endearing,

As my rose;
Heavenly Father, spare them to us

Till life's close.

SONGS FOR MY CHILDREN.

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Get up, little sister, the morning is bright,
And the birds are all singing to welcome the light;
The buds are all opening—the dew's on the flower;
If you shake but a branch, see! there falls quite a

shower.

By the side of their mothers, look! under the trees, How the young lambs are skipping about as they

please ; And by all those rings on the water I know The fishes are merrily swimming below.

The bee, I dare say, has been long on the wing,
To get honey from every flower of the spring;
For the bee never idles, but labours all day,
And thinks (wise little insect !) work better than

play.

The lark's singing gaily ; it loves the bright sun, And rejoices that now the gay spring has begun; For the spring is so cheerful, I think 'twould be

wrong If we did not feel happy to hear the lark's song.

Get up, for when all things are merry and glad
Good children should never be lazy and sad ;
For God gives us daylight, dear sister, that we
May rejoice like the lark, and may work like the

bee.

LADY FLORA HASTINGS.

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WHITHER are these people walking ?

Dear mamma, I want to know;
Some are with each other talking,

Some alone and silent go :
Through the wood and down the hill,
Many more are coming still.

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Hark, my dear, the bells are ringing,

'Tis to church the people turn; Soon sweet psalms they will be singing,

Soon of Jesus' love they'll learn.
Each with bible in his hand,
Goes to pray at God's command.

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