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النشر الإلكتروني

DARLING LITTLE GIRL.

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“And everybody praised the Duke

Who this great fight did win"“ But what good came of it at last ?”

Quoth little Peterkin, “Why that I cannot tell," said he: “ But 't was A FAMOUS VICTORY.”

SOUTHEY,

THE DARLING LITTLE GIRL.

Who's the darling little girl

Every body loves to see?
She it is whose sunny face

Is as sweet as sweet can be.

Who's the darling little girl

Every body loves to hear?
She it is whose pleasant voice
Falls like music on the ear.

Who's the darling little girl

Every body loves to know?
She it is whose arts and thoughts

All are pure as whitest snow.

Who's the darling little girl

Even JESUS CHRIST can love?
She it is who, meek and good,

Daily grows like Him above.

Happy darling little girl!

Is it I? oh! is it I?
Blessed Jesus, make me such,

While I live, and when I die!

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY.

“Will you walk into my parlor ?" said the Spider to

the Fly, “? Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy; The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show when you

are there."

“Oh no, no," said the little Fly,“ to ask me is in vain; For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come

down again. “ I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up

so high; Will you rest upon my little bed ?" said the Spider to

the Fly.

“There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets

are fine and thin, And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY.

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“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly," for I've often heard

it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your

bed!”

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend,

what can I do, To prove the warm affection I have always felt for

you; I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you 're very welcome --will you please to

take a slice?"

“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind sir, that cannot

be, I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish

to see!

“Sweet creature !” said the Spider, you're witty and

you 're wise, How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant

are your eyes !

I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold

yourself.” “I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, " for what you ’re

pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another

day.”

The Spider turn'd him round about, and went into his

den, For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back

again: So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly, And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.

Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did

sing, “ Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and

silver wing; Your robes are green and purple—there 's a crest upon

your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are

dull as lead!"

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Alas, alas ! how very soon this silly little Fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flit

ting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and

nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and

purple hue

Thinking only of her crested head-poor foolish thing !

at last, Up jump'd the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her

fast;

EARLY RISING.

183

He dragg'd her up his winding stair, into his dismal

den, Within his little parlor—but she ne'er came out again!

And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give

heed: Unto an evil counsellor close heart and ear and eye, And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the

Fly.

MARY HOWITT.

EARLY RISING.

Get up, little sister: the morning is bright,
And the birds are all singing to welcome the light
The buds are all opening; 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 lambs 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 Spring;
For the bee never idles, but labors all day,
And thinks, wise little insect, work better than play.

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