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AND THE SQUIRREL.

The squirrel had on when he first awoke

All the clothing at his command;

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And his breakfast was light, for he first took a bite

Of an acorn that lay at hand;

And then he was off to the trees to work ;-
While the children some time it takes
To dress, and eat what they think meet
Of coffee and buckwheat cakes.

The sparkling frost, when they first go out,
Lies thick upon all around;

And earth and grass, as they onward pass,
Give a pleasant crackling sound.

"Oh! there is a heap of chestnuts! see!" Cried the youngest of the train;

For they came to a stone where the squirrel had thrown

What he meant to pick up again!

His two bright eyes, from the tree o'erhead, Look'd down at the open bag

Where the nuts went in ;-and so to begin Almost made his courage flag.

Away on the hill, outside the wood,
Three giant-trees there stand;

And the chestnuts bright that hang in sight

Are eyed by the youthful band.

Then one of their number climbs the tree,
And passes from bough to bough ;—
And the children run-for with pelting fun
The nuts fall thickly now.

Some of the burrs are still shut tight;
Some open with chestnuts three;
And some nuts fall with no burrs at all,
Smooth, shiny, as nuts should be.

Oh! who can tell what joy it was
To see the prickly shower-

Or feel what a whack on head or back
Was within a chestnut's power!

To run beneath the shaking tree
And then to scamper away;

And with laughing shout to dance about
The grass where the chestnuts lay.

THE HEART.

With flowing dresses and blowing hair,
And eyes that no shadow knew,

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Like the growing light of a morning bright,—
The dawn of the summer blue.

The work was ended;-the trees were stripp'd;
The children were tired of play;-
And they forgot—(but the squirrel did not) —
The wrong they had done that day!

ᎢᎻᎬ ᎻᎬᎪᎡᎢ.

THE heart-the heart! oh, let it be
A true and bounteous thing;
As kindly warm, as nobly free,
As eagle's nestling wing.

Oh! keep it not like miser's gold,
Shut in from all beside;
But let its precious stores unfold
In mercy, far and wide.

The heart-the heart that's truly blest

Is never all its own;

No ray of glory lights the breast

That beats for self alone.

The heart-the heart! oh, let it spare

A sigh for others' pain;

The breath that soothes a brother's care Is never spent in vain.

And though it throb at gentlest touch, Or Sorrow's faintest call,

'Twere better it should ache too much Than never ache at all.

The heart-the heart that's truly blest Is never all its own;

No ray of glory lights the breast

That beats for self alone.

ELIZA COOK.

THE CAMEL.

CAMEL, thou art good and mild,
Mightst be guided by a child;
Thou wast made for usefulness,
Man to comfort and to bless;

Thou dost clothe him; thou dost feed;
Thou dost lend to him thy speed.
And through wilds of trackless sand,
In the hot Arabian land,

THE CAMEL.

Where no rock its shadow throws;
Where no pleasant water flows;
Where the hot air is not stirr'd
By the wing of singing bird;
There thou go'st, untired and meek,
Day by day, and week by week,
Bearing freight of precious things,
Silk for merchants, gold for kings;
Pearls of Ormuz, riches rare,
Damascene and Indian ware;
Bale on bale, and heap on heap,
Freighted like a costly ship!

When the red Simoom comes near,
Camel, dost thou know no fear?
When the desert sands uprise
Flaming crimson to the skies,
And, like pillar'd giants strong,
Stalk the dreary waste along,
Bringing Death unto his prey,
Does not thy good heart give way?
Camel, no! thou dost for man
All thy generous nature can;
Thou dost lend to him thy speed
In that awful time of need;

F

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