Philomel forsakes the thorn,
Plaintive where she prates at night;
And the lark, to meet the morn,
Soars beyond the shepherd's sight.
From the low-roof'd cottage ridge,
See the chattering swallow spring;
Darting through the one-arch'd bridge,
Quick she dips her dappled wing.
Now the pine-tree's waving top
Gently greets the morning gale;
Kidlings now begin to crop
Daisies on the dewy dale.

From the balmy sweet uncloy'd,
(Restless till her task be done,)
Now the busy bee's employ'd,
Sipping dews before the sun.
Trickling through the creviced rock,
Where the limpid stream distils,
Sweet refreshment waits the flock
When 'tis sun-drove from the hills.

Colin's for the promised corn

(Ere the harvest hopes are ripe) Anxious;-while the huntsman's horn, Boldly sounding, drowns his pipe.

Sweet, O sweet, the warbling throng
On the white-emblossom'd spray!
Nature's universal song

Echoes to the rising day.

LITTLE LILLIE.

"I HAVE been to school, father, and tried to be good; And when I came home, as I walk'd through the wood, I saw on the tree a most beautiful bird,

And his song was the sweetest that ever I heard.

He look'd in my face with his little round eye;
I was sorry for that, for I thought he would fly;
But he still kept singing the same sweet song,
And it made me glad as I walked along.

And, father, the air was so fresh and so sweet,
The green grass and moss so soft to my feet,

And the ground was so bright with the beautiful flowers,
That I wanted to stay there a great many hours.

But I thought it was wrong any longer to stay,
For you told me never to stop by the way;
So I came straight home, and brother and I
Have been to the fields to make his kite fly.

And I work'd in my garden, and planted some seeds,
And water'd the flowers, and pull'd up the weeds ;
And I tried to help mother all that I could:

I am sure she will tell you that I have been good."

“I am glad, little Lillie," the father replied,
As he kiss'd his dear girl, "I'm glad you have tried
To be a good child; so now come with me,

And sit by my side or climb on my knee;

"And I'll tell you why all look'd so happy and gay,

As you walk'd home from school through the greenwood to-day;

And why the glad song of that beautiful bird
Seem'd sweeter than any you ever had heard.

"The Lord keeps around us, by day and by night,
Kind angels to guard us, and lead us aright:
When you try to be useful and pleasant and mild,
I know that the angels are leading my child.

"For the good thoughts and feelings which they will impart,

When you try to do right, will gladden your heart;
And this is why all look'd so happy and gay,

As you walk'd home from school through the greenwood to-day."

AROUND the fire, one wintry night,
The farmer's rosy children sat;
The faggot lent its blazing light;

And jokes went round and careless chat.

When, hark! a gentle hand they hear
Low tapping at the bolted door;
And thus, to gain their willing ear,
A feeble voice was heard t'implore:

"Cold blows the blast across the moor;
The sleet drives hissing in the wind;
Yon toilsome mountain lies before:
A dreary treeless waste behind.
"My eyes are weak and dim with age;
No road, no path, can I descry;
And these poor rags ill stand the rage
Of such a keen inclement sky.
"So faint I am-these tottering feet
No more my feeble frame can bear;
My sinking heart forgets to beat,
And drifting snows my tomb prepare.
"Open your hospitable door,

And shield me from the biting blast:
Cold, cold it blows across the moor,
The weary moor that I have pass'd!"

With hasty step the farmer ran,

And close beside the fire they place

The poor half-frozen beggar man,

With shaking limbs and pallid face.

The little children flocking came,

And warm'd his stiff'ning hands in theirs;

And busily the good old dame

A comfortable mess prepares.