Down bends the branch now; swing him away, Higher yet, higher yet, higher, I say! Oh, what a joy it is! Now, let us sing, "A pear for the Queen, an apple for the King," And shake the old tree as we swing, we swing. * 82 * THE FAIRY QUEEN'S SONG. COME follow, follow me, Ye fairy elves1 that be; 2 When mortals are at rest, Through keyholes we do glide; Upon a mushroom's head 3 The viands that we eat; Pearly drops of dew we drink In acorn cups filled to the brink. 1 fairy elf (plural, elves), an imaginary or 'make-believe' little being formerly believed to haunt woods and wild places. And stand amid the drifted snow, Than be a man who walks with men, But has a frozen heart. * 86 * ANNIE D. GREEN. (MARIAN DOUglas.) DEEDS OF KINDNESS. SUPPOSE the little cowslip Should hang its golden cup, Suppose the glistening dewdrop The blade on which it rested, "Suppose the little breezes, Upon a summer's day, Should think themselves too small to cool The traveller on his way: Who would not miss the smallest And softest ones that blow, And think they made a great mistake, How many deeds of kindness. Although it has so little strength, And little wisdom too! It wants a loving spirit, Much more than strength, to prove How many things a child may do * 87 * CHICK-A-DE-DEE. F. p. THE ground was all covered with snow one day, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee. He had not been singing that tune very long, Ere Emily heard him, so sweet was his song; "O sister, look out of the window!" said she: "Here's a dear little bird singing chick-a-de-dee, Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee; Here's a dear little bird singing chick-a-de-dee. "O mother! do get him some stockings and shoes, And a nice little frock, and a hat, if you choose; I wish he'd come into the parlor, and see How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee! Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee! How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-dedee!" "There is One, my dear child, though I cannot tell who, Has clothed me already, and warm enough, too: Good-morning! Oh, who are so happy as we?" And away he went, singing his chick-a-de-dee. Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee! And away he went, singing his chick-a-de-dee. * 88 * F. C. WOODWORTH. DON'T KILL THE BIRDS. DON'T kill the birds! — the little birds Soon as the joyous spring has come, And chilling storms are o'er. The little birds, how sweet they sing! Oh, let them joyous live! And never seek to take the life That you can never give. Don't kill the birds! - the pretty birds That play among the trees: 'Twould make the earth a cheerless place, But let them warble forth their songs Don't kill the birds! - the happy birds So innocent to look upon, They claim our warmest love. No spot can be a cheerless place D. C. COLESWORTHY. * 89 * GOD'S GOODNESS. WHO has counted the leaves that fall Who has counted how many flowers 1 dispense with, do without. |