A NURSERY SONG. As I walk'd over the hills one day, I listen'd, and heard a mother-sheep say: "In all the green world there is nothing so sweet As my little lammie with his nimble feet, With his eye so bright, And his wool so white: Oh! he is my darling, my heart's delight. That sings in the tree, Dearly may dote on his darlings four; As they went to sleep on the hill-side warm, I went to the kitchen, and what did I see "My kittens, with tails all so cunningly curl'd, Are the prettiest things that can be in the world. The bird on the tree, And the old ewe, she May love their babies exceedingly ; But I love my kittens there, Under the rocking-chair. I love my kittens with all my might, I love them at morning, and noon, and night. Which of the three, for the life of me,— I love them all so well. Now I'll take up my kitties, the kitties I love, And we'll lie down together beneath the warm stove.” Let the kitties sleep under the stove so warm, While my little darling lies here on my arm. I went to the yard, and saw the old hen She cluck'd, and she scratch'd, and she bristled away; And what do you think I heard the hen say? I heard her say, "The sun never did shine On anything like to these chickens of mine. You may hunt the full moon, and the stars, if you please, But they do not know what a proud mother I am; Though the sheep and the cat should get down on their The kittens could crow, Or the lammie on two yellow legs could go. [knees: My own dear darlings! my sweet little things! So the hen said, And the chickens all sped As fast as they could to their nice feather-bed; BIRDS' NESTS. THE skylark's nest among the grass With oak-leaves strew'd around. The wren builds in an ivied thorn, You scarce can see at all. The martins build their nests of clay, The cuckoo makes no nest at all, The sparrow has a nest of hay, With feathers warmly lined; The ring-dove's careless nest of sticks, Rooks build together in a wood, And often disagree; The owl will build inside a barn, Or in a hollow tree. The blackbird's nest of grass and mud The magpie's nest is made with thorns In leafless tree or hedge; The wild-duck and the water-hen Build by the water's edge. Birds build their nests from year to year, According to their kind; Some very neat and beautiful,— Some simpler ones we find. The habits of each little bird, And all its patient skill, Are surely taught by God himself, And order'd by His will. |