Page images


VERY high in the pine-tree,
The little Turtle-dove
Made a pretty little nursery,
To please her little love.
She was gentle, she was soft,
And her large dark eye
Often turn'd to her mate,
Who was sitting close by.

"Coo," said the Turtle-dove. "Coo," said she.


Oh, I love thee," said the Turtle-dove. "And I love THEE."

In the long shady branches
Of the dark pine-tree,
How happy were the doves
In their little nursery!

The young turtle-doves

Never quarrell'd in the nest; For they dearly loved each other,

Though they loved their mother best.

"Coo," said the little doves.

"Coo," said she.

And they play'd together kindly
In the dark pine-tree.

Is this nursery of yours,
Little sister, little brother,
Like the Turtle-dove's nest-
you love one another?
Are you kind, are you gentle,
As children ought to be?
Then the happiest of nests

your own nursery.


IN a pleasant chamber, close beside
A lofty window, deep and wide,
Stood a little bed, in whose bosom deep
A young boy went to his nightly sleep.
The window was as a crystal door,
Opening out on the silent night;"
And the radiance of the clear star-light
Lay in white streaks on the chamber-floor,
And shone on the pillow and the bed,

And brighten'd the sleeper's beautiful head.

And all the night, as one by one,

The shining stars went up the sky,

They paused, and look'd through that window high;

And as each and every star in turn,

Like a crown of silver lustre shone,
Round the head of the boy, more still and deep,
More starry and bright, grew his innocent sleep.

One night he awoke, and one star alone
Through that lofty casement was shining down:
He gazed and he gazed, till it grew like an eye,
Placid and clear, in the midnight sky;
Then the boy look'd trustfully up and smiled,
And the star look'd brightly back to the child.

The morrow he went to his pictures and play;
But ever and often he turn'd him away,
And smiled to his thought, as though a fair dream
Were passing him and his sports between.
The mother questions him gently the while,


Why does my boy look upward and smile?" "O mother! O mother! I would you might see The beautiful angel that's watching me."

[ocr errors]


You little twinkling stars, that shine
Above my head so high,

If I had but a pair of wings
I'd join you in the sky.
I am not happy lying here,

With neither book nor toy,
For I am sent to bed, because
I've been a naughty boy.
If you will listen, little stars,
I'll tell you all I did:
I only said I would not do

The thing that I was bid!
I'm six years old this very day,
And I can write and read,
And not to have my own way yet
Is very hard indeed.

I do not know how old you are,
Or whether you can speak,
But you may twinkle all night long
And play at hide-and-seek.

If I were with you, little stars,
How merrily we'd roll

Across the skies and through the clouds,
And round about the pole!

The moon, that once was round and full,
Is now a silver boat;

We'd launch it off that bright-edged cloud,
And then-how we should float!

Does anybody say, "Be still,"

When you would dance and play? Does anybody hinder you

When you would have your way?

Oh, tell me, little stars, for much
I wonder why you go

The whole night long from east to west,
So patiently and slow!

"We have a Father, little child,
Who guides us on our way;
We never question-when He speaks
We listen and obey."

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »