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We've laid him there, where the blessed air
And raineth showers
Of those sweet flowers,
Where the blackbird sings, and the wild bee's wings
Takes up the song.
He loved to lie where his wakeful eye
Brought him like light.
Nor word, nor sign, nor look of mine,
And frolic round,
Shall bring him now.
But he taketh his rest, where he loved best
Of earth to me.
CHRISTMAS TIMES. - Howard.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer! now, Vixen !
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Dunder and Blixen!
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack. His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
THE PET LAMB. Wordsworth.
THE dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; I heard a voice; it said, it said, "Drink, pretty creature,
And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied
THE PET LAMB.
No other sheep were near, the lamb was all alone,
While to that mountain lamb she gave its evening meal.
The lamb, while from her hand he thus his supper took,
Seemed to feast with head and ears, and his tail with pleasure shook;
"Drink, pretty creature, drink," she said, in such a
That I almost received her heart into my own.
'Twas little Barbara Lethwaite, a child of beauty
I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair. Now with her empty can the maiden turned away ; But ere ten yards were gone, her footsteps she did
Towards the lamb she looked; and from that shady place
I unobserved could see the workings of her face; If nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring,
Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little maid might sing:
"What ails thee, young one? what? why pull so at thy cord?
Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board?
Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be ; Rest, little, young one, rest; what is 't that aileth thee?
“What is it thou wouldst seek? what is wanting to thy heart?
Thy limbs are they not strong? and beautiful thou
This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers,
And that green corn all day long is rustling in thy
"If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain,
This birch is standing by, its covert thou canst gain; For rain and mountain storms the like thou need'st not fear The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come here.
"Rest, little, young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day
When my father found thee first, in places far away; Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned by none,
And thy mother from thy side forevermore was
"He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home;
O blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou