DYING IN SPRING-TIME.

DYING IN SPRING-TIME.

""Tis hard to die in Spring-time !"
Poor Ellen said and sighed,
"When all around is gladness,"
And then the poor child cried.
"For buds are coming on the tree,
And soon the little busy bee

Will all along the sunshine hours
Gather sweet honey from the flowers."

"Tis hard to die in Spring-time,
When from the green grass sod

The lark springs up into the sky,
And sings a song to God.

When the blackbird, with its yellow bill,
Makes all the woods and valleys ring,
And all the birds that sing begin
To welcome happy spring-time in.

"Tis hard to die in Spring-time,
When the violets are here,
And the cowslips and primroses
In golden dress appear.

I shall not see the summer flowers

Made fresh and sweet by gentle showers;

I shall no more run out to play,

For I am going far away!"

DYING IN SPRING-TIME.

""Tis sweet to die in Spring-time
When I think of heaven above,
Where there never is dark Winter,
But always light and love.
Where all is joy and gladness,
And no more grief or sadness,
Where tears of sorrow never stay,
For God will wipe them all away.

"Tis sweet to die in Spring-time,
For Jesus then will come
To carry, like a shepherd kind,
His little lambkin home;

And set me down in gardens fair
Among the flowers so rich and rare,
Which ever bloom and never die,
In that fair world beyond the sky.

'Tis sweet to die in Spring-time;

So, mother, let me go;

We shall all be happy there, mother

You often told me so.

Dont say, Poor Ellen now is gone,

And I am left to weep alone,'

For though I am no longer here,

I'll watch and wait till you come there."

But I will

I am not going to tell you all at once. tell you some things he says, and then you may guess what his name is, and what he does.

"Where's my cap? I can't find my cap. I shall be too late for school! Where is it? Who knows where my cap is ?"

"Where's my spelling-book? I forgot to get my spelling last night. I can't spell those long words. I'm sure I shall be kept."

"Henry, lend me your slate-pencil. I've lost mine. I shan't get this sum done if you dont. Do lend it me."

Now can you guess what his name is? Do you give it up? Then I will tell you. His name is

CARELESS. He is a thoughtless, cross, fretful fellow, always out of order, and always too late in all he has to do. Do you know any one like him? I hope you dont.

But how is it that he is a thief? What does he steal? He steals one of the best things in the world, which, if you send a police-man, can never be got

THE SUNNY SIDE THE WAY.

back again, and which all the gold in the world cannot buy. And when he has stolen it he wastes it, and so it does no good to him or any one else. Is he not a sad thief?

Now guess what he steals. Do you give that up too. Then I will tell you again-he steals TIME. He steals it and wastes it in doing what he ought not to do, and then has none left to do what he ought to do. Do you know any one who, like CARELESS, steals TIME and wastes it? I hope you dont.

"THE SUNNY SIDE THE WAY."

A SONG OF SUNSHINE.

COLDLY comes the March wind

Coldly from the north

Yet the cottage little ones

Gaily venture forth:

Free from cloud above them,
Free from sorrow they,
The playful children choosing

The sunny side the way.

THE SUNNY SIDE THE WAY.

Sadly sighs the north wind
Naked boughs among,

Like a tale of sorrow,

Told in mournful song:
But the merry little ones,
Happy things are they,
Singing like the lark, on
The sunny side the way.

There the silver snowdrops-
Butter-cups like gold—
Primroses and Crocuses

Their beauty all unfold.
Poor? those cottage little ones?
Poor! no-rich are they,

With their shining treasures on

The sunny side the way.

Coldly oft, the winds blow
On the way of life,
Spreading in the pathway,

Care, and pain, and strife;
Yet the heart may shelter have,
Cold though be the day,
Choosing like the little ones,

The sunny side the way.