Lies with her infant lamb: I see The love they to each other make, And the sweet joy, which they partake, Her voice was blithe, her heart was light: Her speech, until the stars of night But in the branches of the Oak One night, my children! from the north At break of day I ventur'd forth, The storm had fallen upon the Oak, And struck him with a mighty stroke, And whirl'd and whirl'd him far away; And in one hospitable cleft The little careless Broom was left, To live for many a day. CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD THREE YEARS OLD. BY WORDSWORTH. LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild; Mock chastisement and partnership in play. And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth, Not less, if unattended and alone, Than when both young and old sit gather'd round, And take delight in its activity, Even so this happy creature of herself Is all-sufficient; solitude to her Is blithe society, who fills the air With gladness and involuntary songs. Light are her sallies as the tripping fawn's, Forth-startled from the fern, where she lay couch'd; Unthought-of, unexpected as the stir Of the soft breeze ruffling the meadow flowers; THE GREEN LINNET. BY WORDSWORTH. BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs, that shed In this sequester'd nook how sweet And flowers and birds once more to greet, One have I mark'd, the happiest guest Hail to thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion, Thou, Linnet! in thy green array, Presiding spirit here to-day, Dost lead the revels of the May, And this is thy dominion. While birds, and butterflies, and flowers Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, A life, a presence like the air, Upon yon tuft of hazel trees, While thus before my eyes he gleams, A brother of the leaves he seems, When in a moment forth he teems His little song in gushes: As if it pleas'd him to disdain And mock the form which he did feign, While he was dancing with the train Of leaves among the bushes. THE RAINBOW. BY J. HOLLAND. THE evening was glorious, and light through the trees Play'd the sunshine and rain-drops, the birds and the breeze; The landscape outstretching in loveliness lay For the queen of the spring, as she pass'd down the vale, Left her robe on the trees, and her breath on the " gale; And the smile of her promise gave joy to the hours, And flush in her footsteps sprang herbage and flowers. The skies like a banner in sunset unroll'd, O'er the west threw their splendour of azure and gold; But ONE cloud at a distance rose dense, and in creas'd Till its margin of black touch'd the zenith and east. |