A SONG OF A DOLL.
I ONCE had a sweet little doll, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world ;
Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,
And her hair was so charmingly curled.
But I lost my poor little doll, dears,
As I played in the heath one day;
And I cried for her more than a week, dears,
But I never could find where she lay.
I found my poor little doll, dears,
As I played on the heath one day :
Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,
For her paint is all washed away,
And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears,
And her hair not the least bit curled:
Yet for old sake's sake she is still, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world.
KING AND QUEEN.
IF I were a queen,
What would I do?
I'd make you king,
And I'd wait on you.
If I were a king,
What would I do?
I'd make you queen,
For I'd marry you.
FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY.
HOPE is like a harebell, trembling from its birth ;
Love is like a rose, the joy of all the earth ;
Faith is like a lily lifted high and white;
Love is like a lovely rose, the world's delight;
Harebells and sweet lilies show a thornless growth,
But the rose, with all its thorns, excels them both.
TWIST me a crown of wind flowers,
That I may fly away
To hear the singers at their song,
And players at their play.
Put on your crown of wind flowers;
But whither would you go?
Beyond the surging of the sea,
And the storms that blow.
Alas! your crown of wind flowers
Can never make you fly;
I twist them in a crown to-day,
And to-night they die.
'Sing Song'-C. ROSSETTI.
A CHILD TIRED OF PLAY.
TIRED of play! tired of play!
What hast thou done this livelong day?
The birds are silent, and so is the bee;
The sun is creeping up steeple and tree;
The doves have flown to the sheltering eaves,
And the nests are dark with the drooping leaves,
Twilight gathers, and day is done,-
How hast thou spent it, restless one?
Playing? But what hast thou done beside,
To tell thy mother at eventide?
What promise of morn is left unbroken?
What kind word to thy playmates spoken?
Whom hast thou pitied, and whom forgiven?
How with thy faults hath duty striven?
What hast thou learned by field and hill,
By greenwood path, and singing rill?
There will come an eve to a longer day,
That will find thee tired,-but not of play!
And thou wilt lean, as thou leanest now,
With drooping limbs, and an aching brow,
And with the shadows would faster creep,
And long to go to thy quiet sleep.
Well were it then, if thine aching brow
Were as free from sin and shame as now!
Well for thee, if thy lip could tell
A tale like this, of a day spent well !
If thine open hand hath relieved distress,
If thy pity hath sprung to wretchedness,
If thou hast forgiven the sore offence,
And humbled thy heart with penitence ;
If Nature's voices have spoken to thee
With her holy meanings eloquently,
If every creature hath won thy love,
From the creeping worm to the brooding dove,
If never a sad, unspoken word,
Hath pled with thy human heart unheard,
Then when the night steals on as now,
It will bring relief to thine aching brow;
And, with joy and peace at the thought of rest,
Thou wilt sink to sleep on thy mother's breast.
N. P. WILLIS.
GOD'S FLOWERS.
Do not throw away the flowers,
When they droop and fade ;
Do you think for your amusement
Only they were made?
See them strewn upon the pathway,
Lying crushed and torn ;
All their pretty petals withered,
All their beauty gone!
Half-an-hour ago they flourished,
Fresh, and fair, and sweet;
Thrown away, they now are lying
Faded at your feet.
Lift them up, and lay them gently
Down in yonder pool;
Where refreshing water glances,
Sparkling clear and cool.
Let us thank God for the beauty
Scattered through the land ;
Nor, unheeding, waste His flowers
With a careless hand.
DEAR little children, never do
A thing that's mean or sly;
It's doing in your actions what
In words we call a lie.
If mother tells you not to go
Into the street and play,
Don't slip out when she goes upstairs,
As long as you can stay;
And just get back before she's down,
With a sham quiet face,
That she may think you've never stirr'd
A moment from your place.
And when she says, 'While I'm away
None of you touch the fire ;'
Oh! rather let it quite go out
Than break through her desire.
And when she says, 'Walk steady home
When you're let out of school ;'
Don't loiter idly, then tear on-
Attend to mother's rule.
And if she tells you not to spend
Your pence in unripe fruit,
Stale shrimps, or bad cheap sugar-plums,
Don't grumble or dispute :
She says it because all those things
Are most unwholesome food;
And bring on sickness, aches, and pains—
So mind her and be good.
And if you should forget sometimes,
As I've no doubt you do ;
Don't make excuses false and mean,
But speak out, brave and true.
Much less displeased will mother be,
Much happier you will feel,
Than if you'd done what you ought not,
And managed to conceal.
When we've been sly or mean or false,
Though we are not found out,
There's something heavy at the heart,
We always bear about.
From HOUSEHOLD VERSES ON HEALTH AND HAPPINESS.
TROUBLESOME children will never sit still,
Cry, and are fretful whenever they're ill :
Good little children do just what they're told,
Try to be patient in spite of a cold.
Troublesome children are noisy and shout,
Break all their playthings, and leave them about :
Good little children are merry and gay,
And yet they speak softly at lessons or play.
Troublesome children say, 'Bedtime! oh no!
Please let me stay, mother: why must I go?"
Good little children, when 'bedtime' is said,
Give good-night kisses and run off to bed.
Troublesome children are certain to find
Nobody loves them, and nobody's kind.
Good little children know every one tries
To make them grow healthy and happy and wise.
Now, little children, come whisper to me-
Troublesome children, or good, will you be?
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