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Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are ;
Up above the world, so bright,
Like a diamond in the night.

In the cold blue sky you keep,
And often through my windows peep;
Then you show your little light,
And twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

GREEN. What a glorious sight it is to look at the Heavens on a fine clear night! What thousands and thousands of stars do we not see on every side of us! And when we consider that Astronomers have told us that those stars are millions of miles distant from us, and are like worlds to our own, should we not lift up our hearts to that Great Being who created the world we live in,-that firmament studded with stars—and everything we see or know.


How doth the little busy bee

Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day,

From every opening flower!

How skilfully she builds her cell!

How neat she spreads her wax!
And labours hard to store it well

With the sweet food she makes.

In Works of labour, or of skill,

I would be busy too ;
For Satan finds some mischief still

For idle hands to do.

In books, or work, or healthful play,

Let my first years be past ;
That I may give for every day

Some good account at last.

Industry will ever bring its own reward. The boy who goes to school and studiously learn his lessons, is a far happier boy than he who is lazy, and will not learn without being made.

“For Satan finds some mischief still,

For idle hands to do."


Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hush'd me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheeks sweet kisses press'd ?


When sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet lullaby ;
And sooth'd me that I should not cry ?


Who taught my infant heart to pray,
And love God's holy book and day,
And taught me wisdom's pleasant way?


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