But whence he both cometh,
And whither he goes,
There's never a scholar

In England that knows.

BUTTERFLIES ARE PRETTY THINGS.

BUTTERFLIES are pretty things,
Prettier than you or I;

See the colours on his wings,-
Who would hurt a butterfly?

Softly, softly, girls and boys;

He'll come near us by-and-by ; Here he is, don't make a noise,We'll not hurt you, butterfly?

Not to hurt a living thing,

Let all little children try;
See, again he's on the wing;
Good-bye! pretty butterfly!

THE DAISY.

THE daisy is the meekest flower
That grows in wood or field;
To wind and rain, and footstep rude,
Its slender stem will yield.

And when they're pass'd away, again
As cheerfully it springs,
As if a playful butterfly

Had bent it with its wings.

The daisy is a hardy plant,
And in the winter time
We find it in the shelter'd nooks,
Unhurt by snow and rime.

In spring it dots the green with white,
It blossoms all the year;
And so it is a fav'rite flower

To little children dear.

Before the stars are in the sky
The daisy goes to rest,
And folds its little shining leaves
Upon its golden breast.

And so it sleeps in dewy night
Until the morning breaks,
Then, with the songs of early birds,
So joyously awakes.

And children, when they go to bed,

Should fold their hands in prayer, And place themselves, and all they love, In God's almighty care.

Then they may sleep secure and still,

Through hours of darksome night,

And with the pretty daisy wake

In cheerful morning light.

LITTLE PINK.

ON a swinging little shelf

Were some pretty little books;

And I reckon'd from their looks, That the darling little elf,

Whose they were,

Was the careful little girl,
With her auburn hair a-curl.
In a little chest of drawers,
Everything was nice and prim,
And was always kept so trim,
That her childish little stores,
Books or toys,

In good order could be found,-
Never careless thrown around.

And she laid her bonnet by,

When she hasten'd home from school;
For it was her constant rule,-

And she was resolved to try,

School or home,

How to prove the saying true,-
"Order in all things you do."

When she put away her shawl,
Nicely laying by her book,
She had only once to look
In its place to find her doll
Snugly there:

She could shut her smiling eyes,
Sure to find her pretty prize.

See her books;-how clean they are!
Corners not turn'd down, I know.
There's a marker, made to show
In her lessons just how far.
Dog-ear'd books

Are a certain sign to me
That the girl must careless be.
She's as tidy as a pink!

Clean and neat, and gentle too; If you take her actions through, Just the same, I know, you'll think. School or home,

Tasks or play,

Books or toys,

Every way,

Order keeps this loving girl,

With her auburn hair a-curl.

THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT.

THE days are cold, the nights are long,
The north-wind sings a doleful song;
Then hush again upon my breast;
All merry things are now at rest,

Save thee, my pretty love!

The kitten sleeps upon the hearth,
The crickets long have ceased their mirth;
There's nothing stirring in the house,
Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse,

Then why so busy thou?

Nay! start not at that sparkling light,
"Tis but the moon that shines so bright
On the window-pane bedropp'd with rain,
So, little darling! sleep again,

And wake when it is day.

THE LITTLE BOY AND THE SHEEP.

LAZY sheep, pray tell me why
In the pleasant field you lie,
Eating grass and daisies white,
From the morning till the night:
Ev'ry thing can something do,
But what kind of use are you?

Nay, my little master, nay,
Do not serve me so, I pray;