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II

THE PALACE GARDEN

The Garden Year

January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.

February brings the rain,

Thaws the frozen lake again.

March brings breezes, loud and shrill,

To stir the dancing daffodil.

April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.

May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams.

June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.

Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots, and gillyflowers.

August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.

Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.

Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.

Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.

Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.

Unknown.

The Child and the World

I see a nest in a green elm-tree

With little brown sparrows, one, two, three!
The elm-tree stretches its branches wide,
And the nest is soft and warm inside.
At morn the sun, so golden bright,
Climbs up to fill the world with light;
It opens the flowers, it wakens me,
And wakens the birdies,-one, two, three.
And leaning out of my window high,
I look far up at the blue, blue sky,
And then far out at the earth so green,
And think it the loveliest ever seen,-
The loveliest world that ever was seen!

But by and by, when the sun is low,
And birds and babies sleepy grow,

I peep again from my window high,
And look at the earth and clouds and sky.
The night dew falls in silent showers,
To cool the hearts of thirsty flowers;
The moon comes out, the slender thing,
A crescent yet, but soon a ring,-
And brings with her one yellow star;
How small it looks, away so far!
But soon, in the heaven's shining blue,
A thousand twinkle and blink at you,
Like a thousand lamps in the sky so blue.

And hush! a light breeze stirs the tree,
And rocks the birdies,-one, two, three.
What a beautiful cradle, that soft, warm nest!
What a dear little coverlid, mother-bird's breast!
She's hugging them close to her, tight, so tight
That each downy head is hid from sight;
But out from under her sheltering wings
Their bright eyes glisten, the darling things!
I lean far out from my window's height
And say, "Dear, lovely world, good-night!
Good-night, dear, pretty, baby moon!
Your cradle you'll outgrow quite soon,
And then, perhaps, all night you'll shine,
A grown-up lady moon, so fine

And bright that all the stars

Will want to light their lamps from yours.
Sleep sweetly, birdies, never fear,
For God is always watching near!
And you, dear, friendly world above,
The same One holds us in His love;
Both you so great, and I so small,
Are safe, He sees the sparrows fall,
The dear God watcheth over all!"

Kate Douglas Wiggin.

The Gravel Path

Baby mustn't frown,

When she tumbles down;
If the wind should change-Ah me,
What a face her face would be!

Rub away the dirt,

Say she wasn't hurt;

What a world 'twould be-O my,

If all who fell began to cry!

Laurence Alma Tadema.

A Dewdrop

Little drop of dew,

Like a gem you are;
I believe that you

Must have been a star.

When the day is bright,
On the grass you lie;

Tell me then, at night
Are in the sky?

you

Frank Dempster Sherman.

Who Has Seen the Wind?

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you:

But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I:

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

Christina G. Rossetti.

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