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ALL HAVE A WORK TO DO.
STOP, little stream, and tell me why
And yet thou 'rt never past.
“I love to look into thy face,
"Thou must be very happy here,
But running by these mossy banks,
"The pretty robin sings to thee
While 'mid the leaves the squirrel peeps, And frolics all day long."
"The little streamlet heeded not
The prattling child's request, But, while it still ran swiftly on,
The laughing boy address'd:
""Tis true I've squirrels, birds, and flowers, To cheer me on my way;
And very pleasant is my lot:
But, still, I must not stay.
"Like Truth, I have my work to do,
I cool the weary traveller's lips,
"If I should stop, and idly lie
Soon all my freshness would be gone, My verdant banks be dead. "Our heavenly Father gives to all His blessings most profuse, And, not the least, in wisdom gives The kindly law of use.
JANUARY brings the snow,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
Stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet;
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
August brings the sheaves of corn,
WE had a pleasant walk to-day
Amid a hedge, where the first leaves
And they were blue as a summer sky.
An elder-branch dipp'd in the brook,·
Nibbling, and swimming round and round.
Where daisies open'd to the sun,
In a broad meadow, green and white,
We saw upon the shady banks
Anemones and primroses,
And the blue violets of spring,
And from the earth the plough turn'd up
Such as the lily of the vale
Sends forth from many a woodland dell.