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“ Yes, dear, I like some poetry very
"I wonder whether you would like what I have been learning this week. May I repeat it to you?”
“Yes, dear, do."
Minnie laid down her pencil, and in a clear, sweet voice, repeated these lines by Doane :
“ What is that, mother?
The lark, my child.
" What is that, mother?
The dove, my son,
“ What is that mother?
The eagle, boy,
“What is that, mother
The swan, my loves
“Do you like them ?” said she, when she had finished.
“Yes, dear, very much ; I know them well, and learnt them when I was about your
“ And which of all these birds would you be like, Miss Wilson? At least, which did you choose when you were a little girl, like me, for perhaps you have changed since then ?”
“No, I have not changed, Minnie; I chose the lark then, and I love it best now. Oh, I think those are so blest who give themselves to God in early childhood. All life is happy then. It is the secret of true joy, you know, and some people go toiling on all through their lives, and trying everything but the right thing, and thus, perhaps, in old age they discover what a loss they have had. What would you be, Ellen ?
“I would be the dove; but then my distant dear one' must make haste home, for I am very unhappy when those I love are away from me?" .
“And what would you be, Minnie ?”
" The eagle, proudly careering his course of joy.' Oh! I do like that verse, and when I say it, I feel strong to do right-'onward and upward'-it almost gives me wings!"
“Dear child! that is just what poetry ought to do. It ought to lift us up into a higher atmosphere, and give us a glimpse of the bright glory beyond.”
“But all poetry does not do that," said Ellen:
"No, dear, indeed, it does not; but I think it ought, do not you? I remember a few beautiful lines from Trench about this, which I will repeat to you. He is describing what a true poet's aim should be
“ To make men feel the presence by his skill
Of an Eternal loveliness, until
“Oh, I like that very much," said Ellen, “and mama would like it, too. If you will be so kind as to repeat it again, I will write it
• Miss Wilson did so, and Ellen put the little scrap into her portfolio.
There were several drawings lying on the table, and as Minnie was looking them over she suddenly exclaimed, while a glow of pleasure overspread her countenance, “Oh! I am