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The kitten sleeps upon the hearth,

The crickets long have ceased their mirth;
There's nothing stirring in the house,
Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse,

Then why so busy thou?

Nay! start not at that sparkling light,
'Tis but the moon that shines so bright
On the window-pane bedropp'd with rain,
So, little darling! sleep again,

And wake when it is day.

THE LITTLE BOY AND THE SHEEP.

LAZY sheep, pray tell me why
In the pleasant field you lie,
Eating grass and daisies white,
From the morning till the night:
Ev'ry thing can something do,
But what kind of use are you?

Nay, my little master, nay,
Do not serve me so, I pray;
Don't you see the wool that

grows
On my back to make your clothes?
Cold, ah, very cold you'd be,
If you had not wool from me.

True, it seems a pleasant thing
Nipping daisies in the spring;
But what chilly nights I pass
On the cold and dewy grass,
Or pick my scanty dinner where
All the ground is brown and bare.

Then the farmer comes at last,
When the merry Spring is past,
Cuts my woolly fleece away
For your coat in wintry day.
Little master, this is why
In the pleasant fields I lie.

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WHEN WINTER SNOWS.

WHEN winter snows are on the ground,
Then little robin red-breast grieves,

For then no berries can be found,
And on the trees there are no leaves.

The air is cold, the worms are hid,
For this poor bird what can be done?
We'll strew him here some crumbs of bread,
And then he'll live till the snows are gone.

THE STARS AND THE BABIES.

WHEN the stars go to sleep,
The babies awake,

And they prattle and sparkle all day;
Then the stars light their lamps,
And their playtime they take,
While the babies are sleeping away.

So good-night, little baby,

And shut up your eyes,

Let the stars now have their turn at play;

They soon will begin

To shoot through the skies,

And dance in the bright milky way.

No, no, my dear nurse,

I cannot go to sleep,

Since you've put the thought into my head,

Let us have with the stars

One game at bo-peep,

Then good-night, and a kiss, and to bed.

A VISIT TO THE LAMBS.

MAMMA, let's go and see the lambs;
This warm and sunny day
I think must make them very glad,
And full of fun and play.

Ah, there they are. You pretty things!
Now, don't you run away;
I'm come on purpose, with Mamma,

To see you this fine day.

What pretty little heads you've got,

And such good-natured eyes!

And ruff of wool all round your necksHow nicely curl'd it lies!

Come here, my little lambkin, come, And lick my hand-now do! How silly to be so afraid!

Indeed I won't hurt you.

Just put your hand upon its back,
Mamma, how nice and warm!

There, pretty lamb, you see I don't
Intend to do you harm.

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