THE MONTHS.

JANUARY brings the snow,

Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,

Thaws the frozen lake again.

March brings breezes loud and shrill,

Stirs the dancing daffodil.

April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.

May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
. Fills the children's hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gilliflowers.

August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.

SARA COLERIDGE.

THE HOLY BIBLE.

Tuis is the Book which God has kindly giv'n
To guide me in the path that leads to heav'n.
The Bible, or the Scripture is its name;
Which shows me all my folly, sin, and shame:
It bids me, though a child, to go to God,
And ask for pardon through a Saviour's blood;
It tells me, nothing good or holy I can do
Unless the Spirit doth my soul renew:
It teaches where to look when in distress,
That God alone can all my sorrows bless;
And help me so to live and so to die
That I the name of Christ may glorify.
This precious treasure may I always love,
Till Jesus calls me to the realms above;
And there with holy angels I shall sing
Hallelujah! to Jesus Christ my King.

THE SKYLARK.

CHILD'S MORNING HYMN.

THE Skylark, when the dews of morn
Hang tremulous on flower and thorn,
And violets round his nest exhale
Their fragrance on the early gale,

To the first sunbeam spreads his wings,
Buoyant with joy, and soars and sings.

He rests not on the leafy spray
To warble his exulting lay;

But high above the morning cloud
Mounts in triumphant freedom proud,
And swells, when nearest to the sky,
His notes of sweetest ecstacy.
Thus, my Creator, thus the more
My spirit's wing to Thee can soar,
The more she triumphs to behold
Thy love in all Thy works unfold,
And bids her hymns of rapture be
Most glad when rising most to Thee!

MRS. HEMANS.

THE NIGHTINGALE.

CHILD'S EVENING HYMN.

WHEN twilight's grey and pensive hour

Brings the low breeze, and shuts the flower, And bids the solitary star

Shine in pale beauty from afar;

When gathering shades the landscape veil,

And peasants seek their village-dale,

And mists from river-wave arise,

And dew in every blossom lies;

When evening's primrose opes to shed
Soft fragrance round her grassy bed;
When glow-worms in the wood-walk light
Their lamp to cheer the traveller's sight ;—

At that calm hour, so still, so pale,
Awakes the lonely Nightingale;
And from a hermitage of shade
Fills with her voice the forest glade.

And sweeter far that melting voice
Than all which through the day rejoice;
And still shall bard and wanderer love
The twilight music of the grove.

Father in heaven! oh thus, when day
With all its cares hath pass'd away,
And silent hours waft peace on earth,
And hush the louder strains of mirth,—

Thus may sweet songs of praise and prayer
To Thee my spirit's offering bear-
Yon star, my signal, set on high,
For vesper-hymns of piety.

So may Thy mercy and Thy power
Protect me through the midnight hour,
And balmy sleep and visions blest
Smile on Thy servant's bed of rest.

MRS. HEMANS.

THE ELEPHANT.

IN Asia and in Africa

The Elephant is found;
He larger is than any beast
That walks upon the ground.

When tame, he gentle is and mild,

And does what he's desired;
But if he's mocked or treated ill,
With anger he is fired.

For wisdom he is often praised;
His meats are fruits and grain;
He water, wine, or spirits drinks,
But does from flesh abstain.

Of music he is very fond,

He likes to smell sweet flowers;
And princes in the East do ride
Upon his back in towers.

When wild he's hunted by the men
That they his tusks may sell-

These tusks are ivery, we learn;
Its use we all can tell.

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