If the sun is shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen

chain,

This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain : For rain and mountain storms the like thou need'st not

fear;

The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come here.

Rest, little young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day, When my father found thee first in places far away: Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wast own'd by

none,

And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone.

He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home;

A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam ?

A faithful nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee

yean

Upon the mountain tops, no kinder could have been.

Thou know'st that, twice a day, I've brought thee, in

this can,

Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran:

And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with dew,

I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new.

It will not, will not rest!-Poor creature! can it be,

That 'tis thy mother's heart, which is working so in thee?

Things that I know not of, perhaps to thee are dear, And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor hear.

Alas! the mountain tops which look so green and fair ;I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come there:

The little brooks, that seem all pastime and all play, When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey.

Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the sky; He will not come to thee; our cottage is hard by. Night and day thou art safe as living thing can be: Be happy then and rest; what is't that aileth thee?"

WORDSWORTH,

The farmer, the spaniel, and the cat.

As at his board a farmer sat,
Replenish'd by his homely treat,

His fav'rite spaniel near him stood,
And with his master shar'd the food;
The crackling bones his jaws devour'd,
His lapping tongue the trenchers scour'd:
Till, sated now, supine he lay,

And snor'd the rising fumes away.

The hungry cat, in turn drew near,

And humbly crav'd a servant's share.
Her modest worth the master knew,
And straight the fatt'ning morsel threw.
Enrag'd, the snarling cur awoke,
And thus with spiteful envy spoke :
"They only claim a right to eat,

Who earn by services their meat;

Me, zeal and industry inflame

To scour the fields, and spring the game;

Or, plunged in the wint'ry wave,

For man the wounded bird to save.

With watchful diligence I keep

From prowling wolves his fleecy sheep;

At home his midnight hours secure,

And drive the robber from the door.
For this his breast with kindness glows,
For this his hand the food bestows.
And shall thy indolence impart
A warmer friendship to his heart,
That thus he robs me of my due,

To pamper such vile things as you !"

kr

you!"

"I own," with meekness, puss replied,

Superior merit on your side;

Nor does my heart with envy swell,
To find it recompens❜d so well:

Yet I, in what my nature can,

Contribute to the good of man.

Whose claws destroy the pilf'ring mouse?
Who drives the vermin from the house?
Or, watchful for the lab'ring swain,

From lurking rats secures the grain?
From hence, if he rewards bestow,

Why should your heart with gall o'erflow?
Why pine my happiness to see,

Since there's enough for you and me ?"
"Thy words are just," the farmer cried,
And spurn'd the snarler from his side.

GAY.

SECTION X.

The wheat and the weeds.

'Twas in a pleasant month of spring, When flow'rets bloom, and warblers sing; A field of wheat began to rise,

The farmer's hope, his country's prize.
When lo! amid the op'ning ears,
A various crop of weeds appears.
The joppy, soldier-like array'd,
Its flimsy scarlet flow'rs display'd.
Some, like the lofty sky, were blue;
And some were ting'd with golden hue :
But ev'ry where the wheat was seen,
Clad in one robe of modest green.

It chanc'd three youths, in city bred,
That knew to eat,—not raise their bread,
For pleasure's sake, had rambled there,
To see the sun and breathe fresh air.
Of herbs and grain they little knew
What Linnæus wrote, or Sinclair grew:
But each, as o'er the field he gaz'd,
What fancy led to, pluck'd and prais'd.
"See," said the first, "this flow'r so red,
That gently bows its blushing head: