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HAPPINESS.

It's no in titles nor in rank;
It's no in wealth like Lon'on Bank,
To purchase peace and rest;
It's no in making muckle mair;
It's no in books; it's no in lear,
To mak' us truly blest:
If happiness hae not her seat
And centre in the breast,

We may be wise, or rich, or great,
But never can be blest:

Nae treasures, nor pleasures,
Could mak' us happy lang;
The heart aye's the part aye
That mak's us right or wrang.

Then let us cheerfu' acquiesce;
Nor mak' our scanty pleasures less,
By pining at our state;

And even should misfortunes come,
I, here wha sit, hae met wi' some.
An's thankfu' for them yet.

PARENTS AND CHILDREN.

They gie the wit of age to youth;
They let us ken oursel;

They mak' us see the naked truth,

The real guid and ill.

Tho' losses, and crosses,

Be lessons right severe,

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There's wit there, ye'll get there,
Ye'll find nae otherwhere.

BURNS.

PARENTS AND CHILDREN.

OH! sweet as vernal dews that fill
The closing buds on Zion's hill,

When evening-clouds draw thither,

So sweet, so heavenly, 'tis to see
The members of one family
Live peacefully together.

The children, like the lily-flowers,
On which descend the sun and showers,
Their hues of beauty blending,-
The parents, like the willow-boughs,
On which the lovely foliage grows,
Their friendly shade extending.

But leaves the greenest will decay,
And flowers the brightest fade away,
When autumn-winds are sweeping;
And be the household e'er so fair,
The hand of death will soon be there,
And turn the scene to weeping.

Yet leaves again will clothe the trees,
And lilies wave beneath the breeze,
When spring comes smiling hither;
And friends, who parted at the tomb,
May yet renew their loveliest bloom,
And meet in heaven together.

KNOX.

THE BETTER LAND.

I HEAR thee speak of the better land;
Thou call'st its children a happy band;-
Mother! oh, where is that radiant shore?
Shall we not seek it, and weep no more?
Is it where the flower of the orange blows,
And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle-
boughs?

"Not there, not there, my child."

THE BETTER LAND.

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Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?
Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange bright birds, on their starry
wings,

Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?

"Not there, not there, my child."

Is it far away in some region old,

Where the rivers wander o'er sands of goldWhere the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand

Is it there, sweet mother, that better land? "Not there, not there, my child.

"Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy,
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair,
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child."

MRS. HEMANS.

IS THERE NOT A GOD?

GOD hath a voice that ever is heard

In the peal of the thunder, the chirp of the bird;

It comes in the torrent, all rapid and strong, In the streamlet's soft gush as it ripples along; It breathes in the Zephyr, just kissing the bloom;

It lives in the rush of the sweeping simoom;
Let the hurricane whistle, or warblers rejoice,
What do they tell thee but God hath a voice?

God hath a presence, and that ye may see
In the fold of the flower, the leaf of the tree;
In the sun of the noon-day, the star of the
night;

In the storm-cloud of darkness, the rainbow

of light;

In the waves of the ocean, the furrows of land; In the mountains of granite, the atom of sand; Turn where ye may, from the sky to the sod, Where can ye gaze that ye see not a God?

ELIZA COOK.

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