THE gorse is yellow on the heath;
The banks with speed-well flowers are gay; The oaks are budding, and beneath, The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath, The silver wreath of May.
The welcome guest of settled spring,
The swallow, too, is come at last;
Just at sunset, when thrushes sing,
I saw her dash with rapid wing,
And hailed her as she past.
Come, summer visitant, attach
To my reed roof your nest of clay,
And let my ear your music catch,
Low twittering underneath the thatch
At the grey dawn of day.
THE bird that soars on highest wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
And she that does most sweetly sing,
Sings in the shade when all things rest;
In lark and nightingale we see
at honour hath humility.
SWEET Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,
Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain,
Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,
Aud parting summer's lingering bloom delay'd,
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,
Seats of my youth, when every sport could please;
How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green,
Where humble happiness endear'd each scene!
How often have I paused on every charm,
The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm,
The never-failing brook, the busy mill,
The decent church that topp'd the neighb'ring hill,
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,
For talking age and whispering lovers made!
How often have I bless'd the coming day,
When toil remitting lent its turn to play,
And all the village train, from labour free,
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree
While many a pastime circled in the shade,
The young contending as the old survey'd;
And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground,
And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;
And still, as each repeated pleasure tired,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired.
The dancing pair that simply sought renown,
By holding out to tire each other down;
The swain, mistrustless of his smutted face,
While secret laughter titter'd round the place;
The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,
The matron's glance that would those looks reprove,
These were thy charms, sweet village! sports like these,
With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please ;
These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,
These were thy charms-but all these charms are fled.
GET UP, LITTLE SISTER, THE MORNING IS BRIGHT. 49
47. GET UP, LITTLE SISTER, THE MORNING IS BRIGHT.
GET up, little sister, the morning is bright,
And the birds are all singing to welcome the light;
The buds are all op'ning-the dew's on the flower;
If you shake but a branch see there falls quite a shower.
By the side of their mothers, look, under the trees,
How the young fawns are skipping about as they please;
And by all those rings on the water, I know
The fishes are merrily swimming below.
The bee, I dare say, has been long on the wing"
To get honey from every flower of the spring;
For the bee never idles, but labours all day,
And thinks, wise little insect, work better than play.
The lark's singing gaily; it loves the bright sun,
And rejoices that now the gay spring is begun ;
For the spring is so cheerful, I think 'twould be wrong
If we did not feel happy to hear the lark's song.
Get up, for when all things are merry and glad,
Good children should never be lazy and sad;
For God gives us daylight, dear sister, that we
May rejoice like the lark, and may work like the bee.
LADY FLORA HASTINGS.
48. SMALL SERVICE IS TRUE SERVICE.
SMALL service is true service, while it lasts;
Of friends, however humble, spurn not one;
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,
Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun.
WORDSWORTH.
JOHN GILPIN was a citizen
Of credit and renown,
A train-band captain eke was he
Of famous London town.
John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
"Though wedded we have been
These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen.
To-morrow is our wedding-day,
And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton
All in a chaise and pair.
My sister, and my sister's child,
Myself and children three,
Will fill the chaise; so you must ride
On horseback after we."
He soon replied, "I do admire
Of womankind but one,
And you are she, my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done.
I am a linen-draper bold,
As all the world doth know,
And my good friend the calender
Will lend his horse to go."
Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said;
And for that wine is dear,
We will be furnished with our own,
Which is both bright and clear."
John Gilpin kissed his loving wife,
O'erjoyed was he to find
That though on pleasure she was bent,
She had a frugal mind.
The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allowed
To drive up to the door, lest all
Should say that she was proud.
So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
Where they did all get in;
Six precious souls, and all agog
To dash through thick and thin.
Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
Were never folk so glad,
The stones did rattle underneath,
As if Cheapside were mad.
For saddle-tree scarce reached had he,
His journey to begin,
When, turning round his head, he saw
Three customers come in.
So down he came; for loss of time,
Although it grieved him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well he knew
Would trouble him much more.
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