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Oh, who could there be More mer-ry than we, On this bright har-vest morn. As we fro-lic and play, While we hide a-way, A-mong the sheaves of corn? We may fro-lic still Wher-e-ver we will, But yet we must not tread To waste with our feet The grains of the wheat— The wheat that makes our bread. For God, as we need, Gives the corn to feed And make us well and strong; And to waste in vain His gift of the grain Would grieve Him, and be wrong. |
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Oh, tell me if e-ver you knew A teach-er who looked so se-vere As sis-ter Ma-ri-a can do, When les-sons she's go-ing to hear? Just look how she holds up her cane And frowns, as she threat-ens each one! But yet they'll not cry or com-plain, Be-cause it is only in fun. The dunce's cap Dol-ly must wear, Her task was not learnt very well; And now lit-tle Jane, I de-clare, Pre-tends she's un-a-ble to spell. Yet sis-ter may hold up her cane, And though they'll look so-lemn, each one, From laugh-ter they scarce can re-frain. Be-cause it is only in fun. |
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"Come, while it spins round, try your luck; Come, E-thel, and Kate, and your bro-thers! On two ends two ap-ples are stuck, And an on-ion on each of the o-thers. Be ready, and snap as they pass, Be quick, if you mean to be right, Or not the sweet ap-ples, a-las! 'Twill be, but the on-ions, you'll bite." |
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Through the long day the cows are seen All graz-ing as they go, Wan-der-ing a-long the mea-dows green Where yel-low hawk-weeds grow. But when the clock with-in the tower Strikes five, they al-ways pace Slow-ly—for well they know the hour— Home to the milk-ing place. Then in the yard quite still they stand, Swing-ing their la-zy tails, Where Ann and Su-san are at hand With stools and milk-ing pails I love to see the white milk flow, And in the pail froth up; And Ann, who is so kind, I know, Will let me fill my cup. |
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'Tis au-tumn now; the corn is cut, But o-ther gifts for us are spread, The pur-ple plum, the ripe brown nut, And pears and ap-ples, streaked with red, A-mong the dark-green branch-es shine, Or on the grass be-neath them fall; While full green clus-ters deck the vine That trails o'er trel-lis, roof, and wall. In our dear land the la-den trees Be-speak God's pro-vi-dence and love; He sends all need-ful gifts like these For those who trust in Him a-bove. How good is He to make such choice Of plea-sant fruits for us to grow! 'Tis meet, in-deed, that we re-joice In Him who loves His chil-dren so. |
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"Squir-rel, squir-rel, brown and brisk, High a-bove me in the tree, I can see you bound and frisk, I can see you peep at me. "Squir-rel, squir-rel, you can play; Mer-rier beast is none than you; Yet you are not only gay, You are wise and mer-ry too. You can play till sum-mer's o'er, And the nuts come fall-ing free, Then to hoard your win-ter store You are busy as a bee. "Squir-rel, squir-rel, I would bound Gai-ly at my sports as you, And, like you, I would be found Care-ful for the fu-ture too." |
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Both Tom and Will had e-qual skill In mak-ing lit-tle boats and ships; They cut a-way a whole half day, And co-vered all the floor with chips. And when the boys had made their toys, They thought to put them to the test— To try which boat, when set a-float, Would sail a-cross a tub the best. But Will and Tom, each blow-ing from A dif-fe-rent side, you well may guess, No boats could go straight on, and so They tacked a-bout in great dis-tress. Such heavy gales a-gainst their sails Made both the boats go whirl-ing round; The sails got wet, the boats up-set, And all the crew on board were drowned. |
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See these mer-ry chil-dren four, Now their les-son time is o'er, Deal-ing with the bat-tle-dore Steady blow on blow; Till the fea-thered shut-tle-cocks Fly at their al-ter-nate knocks, "Re-gu-lar as kitch-en clocks," Spin-ning to and fro. |
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See where the spread-ing beech has made Be-neath its boughs a plea-sant shade To screen them from the sun; There George, and Anne, and Ma-ry play, Or read up-on each sun-ny day, When all their tasks are done. George has pulled out his knife, you see, And on the smooth-barked beech-en tree Has some-thing found to do; He's carv-ing deep, and plain, and well The let-ters, one by one, which spell His name and An-nie's too. His sis-ter An-nie, stand-ing by, Is watch-ing with a cu-ri-ous eye, And won-der-ing at his skill. To men and wo-men when they grow, They'll come and find the beech tree show Those names quite plain-ly still. |
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"See how it rains! We can-not go Our walk a-cross the fields; and so, Since Tom and Et-tie Holmes are come, And cous-in Fred has brought his drum, And some can sing, and o-thers play, We'll have a con-cert here to-day. You, Tom, must in the mid-dle stand, And mark the time, with stick in hand; You, bro-ther Ben, the tongs must take, For they will good tri-an-gles make; Hal clicks the 'bones,' and Em-me-line Will beat her lit-tle tam-bour-ine, And cous-in Fred will drum a-way, And Kate the con-cer-ti-na play. All must at-tend to Tom; and mind None play too fast, nor lag be-hind; And then, I'm sure, we all shall see How grand a con-cert this will be, And say this is the wis-est way To spend this wet Oc-to-ber day." |
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An In-di-an tem-ple on the floor The chil-dren build with wood-en bricks, They've placed two pil-lars by the door, And on the roof they now would fix A good tall spire, so Et-ty takes A long-er brick, and sets it there; And though when-e'er we walk it shakes, It will not tum-ble, I de-clare! |
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Anne and Jane will long re-mem-her How, one morn-ing in No-vem-ber, As they both were home-ward stroll-ing, Round the Lon-don fog came roll-ing— First, a yel-low dark-ness fall-ing, Then a noise of link-boys call-ing, Cab, and 'bus, and cart-wheels rum-bling, Hor-ses on the pave-ment stum-bling, Peo-ple, in the smoke and smo-ther, Run-ning up a-gainst each other, No one see-ing, much less know-ing, Whi-ther he or she was go-ing. Little Jane clung to her sis-ter, While Anne com-fort-ed and kissed her, For the girls felt bro-ken-heart-ed, Fear-ing lest they should be part-ed. So they were when Char-lie found them, Lost a-mid the crowd a-round them, But so glad when they es-pied him, And came trip-ping home beside him. |
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Our God who reign-est up on high, Though light-nings flash a-cross the sky, And howl-ing tem-pests hur-ry by, We fear not these, for Thou art nigh To all who trust in Thee. Though now the sky is o-ver-cast, And hea-vy rains are fall-ing fast, And storm and sleet go driv-ing past, And day by day the moan-ing blast Sweeps dead leaves from the tree, No-vem-ber time, that seems so drear, When days are dark and win-ter near, Will pass at length, and Christ-mas cheer The last hours of the dy-ing year With song and dance and mirth. And in due time Thy mighty pow-er Will give the spring, with sun and shower, The o-pen-ing leaf, the ear-ly flow-er, And birds in e-ve-ry wood-land bow-er Will sing to glad-den earth. |
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Come, Meg and El-len, don't com-plain, For, see, the geese en-joy the rain, And dog-gie docs not fret; And yet, The drops come rol-ling down his ears, And nose, and whisk-ers, just like tears; Poor Mop, he's drip-ping wet! Our big um-brel-la co-vers three, And snug and dry we all may be, And chat-ter as we go, And show The grumb-ling peo-ple whom we meet That nei-ther wind, nor driv-ing sleet, Can spoil our tem-pers.—No, We will not take such days as this, Nor any-thing God sends, a-miss, But what we can-not cure Endure; And this will prove a Gold-en Rule To prac-tise as we walk from school— Of that we may be sure. |
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One day when Lil-lie saw her cat Sit down and lick a kit-ten's face; "No, puss," said she, "don't wash like that— My bath will be the pro-per place. "I'll show you how to wash them, puss." So in she dipped them one by one; Poor Min-nie mewed and made a fuss, But Lil-lie only thought it fun. Puss feared her lit-tle kits would drown, And did her best to get them out; While Lil-lie dipped them up and down, And splashed the wa-ter all a-bout. Till nurse came up and saw the mess, Took out the kit-tens, and instead Made thought-less Lil-lie quite un-dress, And have her bath and go to bed. |
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If, at this old Christ-mas game, Kate, who spins the trench-er, call Any play-er out by name, He must catch it ere it fall. If "Move all" she should re-peat, All sit still; but if she say "Twi-light," each must change his seat, Or a for-feit he must pay. |
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The East-ern sages watched the sky, They looked from night till morn, There shone a bright, new star on high, They knew that Christ was born. Then up they rose, and came from far, They jour-neyed night and day, Led by the shin-ing of that star, And found Him where He lay. There is not any need for us To leave our homes be-hind, Through dis-tant lands to tra-vel thus The Son of God to find. For home to us each Christ-mas Day The new-born Sa-vi-our brings; Then shall we not our hom-age pay Like those good East-ern kings? |