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The Cuckoo.

The little children flocking came

And chafed his frozen hands in theirs,
And busily the good old dame
A comfortable mess prepares.

Their kindness cheer'd his drooping soul,
And slowly down his wrinkled cheek
The big round tears were seen to roll,
And told the thanks he could not speak.

The children too began to sigh,
And all their merry chat was o'er;
And yet they felt, they knew not why,
More glad than they had done before.

3

ORIGINAL.

THE CUCKOO.

HAIL, beauteous stranger of the wood,
Attendant on the spring!

Now heaven repairs thy vernal seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.
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Soon as the daisy decks the green

Thy certain voice we hear;
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?

Delightful visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flowers,

When heaven is filled with music sweet
Of birds among the bowers.

The schoolboy wandering in the wood
To pull the flowers so gay,
Starts-thy curious voice to hear,
And imitates thy lay.

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Soon as the pea puts on the bloom,
Thou fly'st the vocal vale,
An annual guest in other lands,
Another spring to hail.

Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year!

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O! could

The Grasshopper:

O! could I fly, I'd fly with thee;
We'd make, with social wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,

Companions of the spring.

LOGAN.

THE GRASSHOPPER,

HAPPY insect! what can be
In happiness compared to thee?
Fed with nourishment divine,
The dewy mornings gentle wine!
Nature waits upon thee still,
And thy verdant cup does fill.
Thou dost drink and dance and sing,
Happier than the happiest king!

All the fields which thou dost see,
All the plants belong to thee,
All that summer hours produce,
Fertile made with early juice.
Man for thee does sow and plow;
Farmer he, and landlord thou!

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Thou

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Thou dost innocently enjoy,

Nor does thy luxury destroy:
Thee country hinds with gladness hear,
Prophet of the ripened year!

To thee of all things upon earth,

Life is no longer than thy mirth.

Happy insect, happy, thou

Dost neither age nor winter know.

But when thou'st drunk, and danced and sung
Thy fill, the flowery leaves among,

Sated with thy summer feast.

Thou retir'st to endless rest.

COWLEY.

HYMN.

How cheerful along the gay mead
The daisy and cowslip appear!
The flocks, as they carelssly feed,
Rejoice in the spring of the year.
The myrtles that deck the gay bowers,
The herbage that springs from the sod,
Trees, plants, cooling fruits, and sweet flowers,
All rise to the praise of my God.

Shall

The Fly.

Shall mau, the great master of all,
The only insensible prove?

Forbid it, fair gratitude's call!

Forbid it, devotion and love!

The Lord, who such wonders could raise,
And still can destroy with a nod,
My lips shall incessantly praise,
My soul shall be wrapt in my God!

ORATORIO OF ABEL.

THE FLY.

Busy, curious, thirsty fly,
Drink with me, and drink as I!
Freely welcome to my cup,
Couldst thou sip, and sip it up.
Make the most of life you may,
Life is short, and wears away.
Both alike are mine and thine,
Hast'ning quick to their decline:

Thine's a summer, mine's no more

Though repeated to threescore;

Threescore summers, when they're gone,

Will appear as short as one.

THE

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