"IN THE WOUNDS OUR SUFFERINGS PLOUGH, IMMORTAL LOVE SOWS SOVEREIGN SEED."-GERALD MASSEY.

"THE SOUL OF MAN IS LARGER THAN THE SKY."-H. COLERIDGE.

ROBIN REDBREAST.

ROBIN REDBREAST.
A CHILD'S SONG.

JOOD-BYE, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;

The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun :

Our thrushes now are silent,
Our swallows flown away;
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast!

O Robin dear!

"FLOWERS SICKEN WHEN THE SUMMER FLIES."-B. W. PROCTER.

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"THE PASSION-PANTING SEA WATCHES THE UNVEILED BEAUTY OF THE STARS."-ALEXANDER SMITH.

"EACH IN HIS HIDDEN SPHERE OF JOY OR WOE, OUR HERMIT-SPIRITS DWELL, AND RANGE APART."-JOHN KEBLE.

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"IN HEAVEN AMBITION CANNOT DWELL,"-(SOUTHEY)

ROBIN REDBREAST.

Robin sings so sweetly
In the falling of the year.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,

The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian princes,

But soon they'll turn to ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples

Hang russet on the bough:
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast!
O Robin dear!

And what will this poor Robin do ?
For pinching days are near.

The fireside for the cricket,

The wheatstack for the mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house.
The frosty ways like iron,

The branches plumed with snow:
Alas! in Winter dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?

Robin, Robin Redbreast!

O Robin dear!

And a crumb of bread for Robin,

His little heart to cheer.

The Music

[WILLIAM ALLINGHAM, author of "Day and Night Songs,"
Master,"
," "Laurence Bloomfield in Ireland," and other poems. ]
NOTE. The robin's song varies according to the season of the year. It is
merry in summer, sweet but sad in autumn, and a jerking, irregular chirp
in the winter. At all times, however, we are well content to listen to the
music of

66

"The bird whom man loves best,

The pious bird with the scarlet breast,

Our English Robin."

NOR AVARICE IN THE HAUNts of hell.”—SOU THEY.

“our remedies oft in ourselves do LIE, WHICH WE ASCRIBE TO HEAVEN."-WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE

"WHY SHOULD WE FAINT AND FEAR TO LIVE ALONE, SINCE ALL ALONE-SO HEAVEN HAS WILLED-WE DIE?"-KEBLE.

FRIENDSHIP IS A SHELTERING TREE."-S. T. COLERIDGE.

"NOR EVEN THE TENDEREST HEART, AND NEXT OUR OWN, KNOWS HALF THE REASONS WHY WE SMILE OR SIGH."-KEBLE.

"HEAVEN LIES ABOUT US IN OUR INFANCY."-WORDSWORTH.

"CALL IT NOT VAIN THEY DO NOT ERR WHO SAY, THAT WHEN THE POET DIES,"-(SIR WALTER SCOTT)

BUT MORE OF REVERENCE IN US DWELL."-TENNYSON.

"MUTE NATURE MOURNS HER WORSHIPPER, AND CELEBRATES HIS OBSEquies.”—sir wALTER SCOTT.

"A SOMETHING LIGHT AS AIR-A LOOK, A WORD UNKIND, OR WRONGLY TAKEN,"-(MOORE)

"THE POETRY OF EARTH IS NEVER DEAD."-JOHN KEATS.

"OH, LOVE! THAT TEMPESTS NEVER SHOOK, A BREATH, A TOUCH LIKE THIS, HAS SHAKEN!"-MOORE.

Captain, work the reck'ning;
How many knots a day?—
Round the world and home again,

That's the Sailor's way!

We've traded with the Yankees,
Brazilians, and Chinese;

We've laughed with dusky beauties,
In shade of tall palm-trees;
Across the Line and Gulf Stream-
Round by Table Bay-
Everywhere and home again,
That's the Sailor's way!

Nightly stands the North Star
Higher on our bow;
Straight we run for England-
Our thoughts are in it now.

Jolly time with friends ashore,
When we've drawn our pay!-

THE PATH OF DUTY IS THE WAY TO GLORY."-TENNYSON.