There, lightly swung, in bowery glades,

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The honey-suckles twine;

There blooms the rose-red campion, And the dark-blue columbine.

There grows the four-leaved plant," true love,"

In some dusk woodland spot;

There grows the enchanter's night-shade,

And the wood forget-me-not.

And many a merry bird is there,
Unscared by lawless men;
The blue-winged jay, the woodpecker,
And the golden-crested wren.

Come down, and ye shall see them all,
The timid and the bold;
For their sweet life of pleasantness,
It is not to be told.

And far within that summer wood,
Among the leaves so green,
There flows a little gurgling brook,
The brightest e'er was seen.

There come the little gentle birds,
Without a fear of ill;

Down to the murmuring water's edge,
And freely drink their fill!

And dash about and splash about,
The merry little things;

And look askance with bright black eyes,
And flirt their dripping wings.

I've seen the freakish squirrels drop
Down from their leafy tree,

The little squirrels with the old—
Great joy it was to me!

And down unto the running brook,
I've seen them nimbly go;

And the bright water seemed to speak
A welcome kind and low.

The nodding plants they bowed their heads

As if in heartsome cheer: They spake unto these little things, ""Tis merry living here!"

Oh, how my heart ran o'er with joy!
I saw that all was good,
And how we might glean up delight
All round us, if we would!

And many a wood-mouse dwelleth there,
Beneath the old wood shade,
And all day long has work to do,
Nor is of aught afraid.

The green shoots grow above their heads,
And roots so fresh and fine
Beneath their feet; nor is there strife
'Mong them for mine and thine.

There is enough for every one,
And they lovingly agree;

We might learn a lesson, all of us,
Beneath the greenwood tree.

LITTLE CHILDREN.

SPORTING through the forest wide;
Playing by the water-side;
Wandering o'er the heathy fells;
Down within the woodland dells;
All among the mountains wild,
Dwelleth many a little child!
In the baron's hall of pride;
By the poor man's dull fireside;
'Mid the mighty, 'mid the mean,
Little children may be seen,
Like the flowers that spring up fair,
Bright and countless everywhere!
In the far isles of the main;
In the desert's lone domain;
In the savage mountain-glen,
'Mong the tribes of swarthy men;
Wheresoe'er a foot hath gone;
Wheresoe'er the sun hath shone
On a league of peopled ground,
Little children may be found!
Blessings on them! they in me
Move a kindly sympathy,
With their wishes, hopes, and fears;
With their laughter and their tears;
With their wonder so intense,
And their small experience!
Little children, not alone

On the wide earth are ye known,
'Mid its labors and its cares,
'Mid its sufferings and its snares;
Free from sorrow, free from strife,
In the world of love and life,
Where no sinful thing hath trod-
In the presence of your God,
Spotless, blameless, glorified-
Little children, ye abide!

THE USE OF FLOWERS.

GOD might have bade the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small,

The oak-tree and the cedar-tree,
Without a flower at all.

We might have had enough, enough

For every want of ours,

For luxury, medicine, and toil,
And yet have had no flowers.

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
All dyed with rainbow-light,
All fashioned with supremest grace
Upspringing day and night:
Springing in valleys green and low,
And on mountains high,

And in the silent wilderness

Where no man passes by?

Our outward life requires them notThen wherefore had they birth? To minister delight to man,

To beautify the earth;

To comfort man-to whisper hope,
Whene'er his faith is dim,

For whoso careth for the flowers
Will care much more for him!

THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON LOW.

A MIDSUMMER LEGEND.

"AND where have you been, my Mary,

And where have you been from me?" "I've been to the top of the Caldon Low, The midsummer-night to see!"

"And what did you see, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon Low?”
"I saw the glad sunshine come down,
And I saw the merry winds blow."

"And what did you hear, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon Low?"
"I heard the drops of the water made,
And the ears of the green corn fill."

"Oh! tell me all, my Mary

All, all that ever you know; For you must have seen the fairies, Last night on the Caldon Low."

"Then take me on your knee, mother ;
And listen, mother of mine:
A hundred fairies danced last night,
And the harpers they were nine;

"And their harp-strings rung so merrily
To their dancing feet so small;
But oh! the words of their talking

Were merrier far than all."

"And what were the words, my Mary, That then you heard them say?" "I'll tell you all, my mother; But let me have my way.

"Some of them played with the water,
And rolled it down the hill;
'And this,' they said, 'shall speedily turn
The poor old miller's mill;

"For there has been no water
Ever since the first of May;
And a busy man will the miller be
At dawning of the day.

"Oh! the miller, how he will laugh
When he sees the mill-dam rise!

The jolly old miller, how he will laugh
Till the tears fill both his eyes!'

"And some they seized the little winds
That sounded over the hill;
And each put a horn unto his mouth,
And blew both loud and shrill;

"And there,' they said, 'the merry winds go Away from every horn;

And they shall clear the mildew dank
From the blind old widow's corn..

"Oh! the poor, blind widow,

Though she has been blind so long,

She'll be blithe enough when the mildew's gone, And the corn stands tall and strong.'

"And some they brought the brown lint-seed, And flung it down from the Low; 'And this,' they said, 'by the sunrise, In the weaver's croft shall grow.

"Oh! the poor lame weaver,

How will he laugh outright When he sees his dwindling flax-field All full of flowers by night!'

"And then out spoke a brownie, With a long beard on his chin: 'I have spun up all the tow,' said he, 'And I want some more to spin.

"I've spun a piece of hempen cloth, And I want to spin another;

A little sheet for Mary's bed, And an apron for her mother.' "With that I could not help but laugh,

And I laughed out loud and free; And then on the top of the Caldon Low There was no one left but me.

"And all on the top of the Caldon Low
The mists were cold and gray,
And nothing I saw but the mossy stones
That round about me lay.

"But, coming down from the hill-top,

I heard afar below,

How busy the jolly miller was,

And how the wheel did go.

And I peeped into the widow's field,
And, sure enough, were seen

The yellow ears of the mildewed corn,
All standing stout and green.

"And down by the weaver's croft I stole,
To see if the flax were sprung;
And I met the weaver at his gate,
With the good news on his tongue.

"Now this is all I heard, mother,
And all that I did see;
So, pr'ythee, make my bed, mother,
For I'm tired as I can be."