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And by its slimy berries white,

The misletoe we knew.
“ A bird all green ran up a tree,

A woodpecker we call,
Who with his strong bill wounds the bark,

To feed on insects small.

“ And many lapwings cried peewit,

And one among the rest Pretended lameness, to decoy

Us from her lonely nest.

“ Young starlings, martins, swallows, all

Such lovely flocks so gay ;
A heron too, which caught a fish,

And with it flew away.

s This bird we found, a kingfisher,

Though dead, his plumes how bright! Do have him stuff'd, my dear papa,

'Twill be a charming sight.

“When reach'd the heath, how wide the space,

The air how fresh and sweet; We pluck'd these flow'rs and diff'rent heaths, i The fairest we could meet.

" The distant prospect we admired,

“The mountains far and blue; A mansion here, a cottage there :

See, here's the sketch we drew.

“A splendid sight we next beheld,

The glorious setting sun,
In clouds of crimson, purple, gold,

His daily race was done.”

" True taste with knowledge,” said papa,

“ By observation's gain'd; You've both us’d well the gift of sight,

And thus reward obtain'd.

“ My Samuel in this desk will find

A drawing-box quite new :
This spy-glass, Tom, you oft desired,

I think it now your due.

“ And pretty toys and pretty gifts

For Charles, too, shall be bought, When he can see the works of God,

And prize them as be ought."

A. T.

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FIRE.

What is it that shoots from the mountains so high,

In many a beautiful spire ?
What is it that blazes and curls to the sky ? '.

This beautiful something is fire.
Loud noises are heard in the caverns to groan,

Hot cinders fall thicker than snow;
Huge stones to a wonderful distance are thrown,

For burning fire rages below.
When winter blows bleak, and loud bellows the storm,

And frostily twinkle the stars ;
Then bright burns the fire in the chimney so warm,

And the kettle sings shrill on the bars.
Then call the poor trav’ller in, cover'd with snow,

And warm him with charity kind :
Fire is not so warm as the feelings that glow

In a friendly, benevolent mind.
By fire rugged metals are fitted for use,

Iron, copper, gold, silver, and tin;
Without its assistance we could not produce

So much as a minikin pin.

Fire rages with fury wherever it comes ;

If only one spark should be dropp’d,
Whole houses, or cities, sometimes it consumes,

Where its violence cannot be stopp’d.
And when the great morning of judgment shall rise,'

How wide will its blazes be curld ! With heat, fervent heat, it shall melt down the skies, And burn up this beautiful world.

A. T.

AIR.
What is it that winds about over the world,

Spread thin like a covering fair ?
Into each little corner and crevice 'tis curld :

This wonderful fluid is-air.

In summer's still evening, how peaceful it floats,

When not a leaf moves on the spray ;
And no sound is heard but the nightingale's notes,

And merry gnats dancing away.
The village-bells glide on its bosom serene,

And steal in sweet cadence along ;
The shepherd's soft pipe warbles over the green,

And the cottage-girls join in the song.

But oft in the winter it bellows aloud,

And roars in the northerly blast;
With fury drives onward the snowy blue cloud,

And cracks the tall tapering mast.
The sea rages.wildly, and mounts to the skies,

In billows and fringes of foam!.
And the sailor in vain turns his pitiful eyes

Towards his dear, peaceable home.
When fire lies and smothers, orgnaws through the bean,

Air forces it fiercer to glow;
And engines in vain in cold torrents may strearn,

If the wind should with violence blow.
In the forest it tears up the sturdy old oak,

That many a tempest had known;
The tall mountain pine into splinters is broke,

And over the precipice blown.
And yet, though it rages with fury so wild,

On solid earth, water, or fire,
Without its assistance, the tenderest child

Would struggle, and gasp, and expire.
Pure air pressing into the curious clay,

Gave life to these bodies at first;
And when in the bosom it ceases to play,
We crumble again to our dust.

A. T.

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