Young lambs sport and frisk on the side of the hill, Thus, if to my lessons with care I attend, The honey-bee wakes from her sleep, The turtle-dove opens her soft-cooing bill, And snowdrops and primroses peep. And store up the knowledge I gain, When the winter of age shall upon me descend, "Twill cheer the dark season of pain. -JANE and ANN TAYLOR. |