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No, no, let us play, for it is yet day,
And we cannot go to sleep;

Besides in the sky the little birds fly,

And the hills are all cover'd with sheep.

Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, And then go home to bed.

The little ones leap'd and shouted and laugh'd And all the hills echoed.

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ΟΝ

A DREAM.

NCE a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,

That an emmet lost its way

Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled, wilder'd, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray,
All heart-broke I heard her say:

"O my children! do they cry?
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me."

Pitying I dropp'd a tear;
But I saw a glow-worm near:
Who replied, "What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?

"I am set to light the ground
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home."

WH

LAUGHING SONG.

HEN the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,

And the dimpling stream runs laughing by, When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;

When the meadows laugh with lively green, And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene, When Mary and Susan and Emily

With their sweet round mouths sing Ha, ha, he!

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
When our table with cherries and nuts is spread,
Come live and be happy and join with me
To sing the sweet chorus of Ha, ha, he!

I

THE SCHOOL-BOY.

LOVE to rise in a summer morn

When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the sky-lark sings with me.
O! what sweet company.

But to go to school in a summer morn,
O! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn,

The little ones spend the day
In sighing and dismay.

Ah! then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour;
Nor in my book can I take delight
Nor sit in learning's bower,

Worn thro' with the dreary shower.

How can the bird, that is born for joy,
Sit in a cage and sing?

How can a child, when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,

And forget his youthful spring?

O father and mother, if buds are nipp'd,
And blossoms blown away,

And if the tender plants are stripp'd
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay,

How shall the summer arise in joy,

Or the summer fruits appear ?

Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy, Or bless the mellowing year,

When the blasts of winter appear?

ON ANOTHER'S SORROW.

AN I see another's woe,

CA

And not be in sorrow too?

Can I see another's grief,

And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,

And not feel my sorrow's share?
Can a father see his child

Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?

Can a mother sit and hear

An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no, never can it be,
Never, never can it be.

And can he who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,

And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant's tear;
And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O! no, never can it be,
Never, never can it be.

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