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And by its slimy berries white,
The misletoe we knew.
A woodpecker we call,
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 ;
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,
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 :
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."
What is it that shoots from the mountains so high,
In many a beautiful spire ?
This beautiful something is fire.
Hot cinders fall thicker than snow;
For burning fire rages below.
And frostily twinkle the stars ;
And the kettle sings shrill on the bars.
And warm him with charity kind :
In a friendly, benevolent mind.
Iron, copper, gold, silver, and tin;
So much as a minikin pin.
Fire rages with fury wherever it comes ;
If only one spark should be dropp’d,
Where its violence cannot be stopp’d.
How wide will its blazes be curld ! With heat, fervent heat, it shall melt down the skies, And burn up this beautiful world.
Spread thin like a covering fair ?
This wonderful fluid is-air.
In summer's still evening, how peaceful it floats,
When not a leaf moves on the spray ;
And merry gnats dancing away.
And steal in sweet cadence along ;
And the cottage-girls join in the song.
But oft in the winter it bellows aloud,
And roars in the northerly blast;
And cracks the tall tapering mast.
In billows and fringes of foam!.
Towards his dear, peaceable home.
Air forces it fiercer to glow;
If the wind should with violence blow.
That many a tempest had known;
And over the precipice blown.
On solid earth, water, or fire,
Would struggle, and gasp, and expire.
Gave life to these bodies at first;