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I LIVE FOR THOSE WHO LOVE ME

Hear the bells ring,

"Ting-a-ling-ding!"

Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the river and through the wood,
Trot fast, my dapple-gray!

Spring over the ground,

Like a hunting hound!

For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river and through the wood,

And straight through the barn-yard gate,

I LIVE for those who love me, whose hearts are kind and true,
For the heaven that smiles above me, and awaits my spirit too;
For all human ties that bind me, for the task by God assigned

me;

For the bright hopes yet to find me, and the good that I can do.

THE BROWN THRUSH

I live to learn their story who suffered for my sake;

To emulate their glory and follow in their wake:

Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages, the noble of all ages,

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Whose deeds crowd History's pages, and Time's great volume make.

I live to hold communion with all that is divine,

To feel there is a union 'twixt Nature's heart and mine;
To profit by affliction, reap truth from fields of fiction,
Grow wiser from conviction, and fulfill God's great design.

I live for those who love me, for those who know me true;
For the heaven that smiles above me, and awaits my spirit too;
For the cause that lacks assistance, for the wrong that needs re-
sistance,

For the future in the distance, and the good that I can do.

- G. LINNEUS BANKS.

THE BROWN THRUSH

THERE'S a merry brown thrush sitting up in a tree.

He's singing to me! he's singing to me!

And what does he say, little girl, little boy?

"Oh! the world's running over with joy!

Don't you hear? Don't you see?

Hush! look in this tree,

I'm as happy as happy can be."

And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see,

And five eggs are hid in the big cherry tree?

Don't meddle, don't touch, little girl, little boy,

Or the world will lose some of its joy!

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.

THE TREE

Now I'm glad! now I'm free!
And I always shall be,

If you never bring sorrow to me."

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree,

To you and to me, to you and to me;

And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy;
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!

But long it won't be

Don't you know? don't you see?

Unless we're as good as we ever should be."

- LUCY LARCOM.

THE TREE

GREEN stood the Tree, with its leaves tender-bright. "Shall I take them?" said Frost, as he breathed thro' the night. "Oh! pray let them be,

Begged the Tree, as she shivered and shook in affright.

Sweet sang the birds the fair blossoms among.

"Shall I take them?" said Wind, as he swayed them and swung.

Begged the Tree, as its branches all quivering hung.

Bright grew the berries beneath the sun's heat.
"Shall I take them?" said Lassie, so young and so sweet.
"Ah! take them, I crave,

Take all that I have!"

Begged the Tree, as it bent its full boughs to her feet.

- BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON.

THE OWL AND THE PUSSY CAT

WISHING

RING-TING! I wish I were a Primrose,

A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the spring!
The stooping bough above me,
The wandering bee to love me,
The fern and moss to creep across,
And the Elm-tree for our king!

Nay,

stay! I wish I were an Elm-tree,

A great lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay!
The winds would set them dancing,

The sun and moonshine glance in,
And birds would house among the boughs,
And sweetly sing.

Oh

- no! I wish I were a Robin,

A Robin, or a little Wren, everywhere to go,
Through forest, field, or garden,

And ask no leave or pardon,
Till winter comes with icy thumbs
To ruffle up our wing!

Well, tell! where should I fly to,

Where go sleep in the dark wood or dell?

Before the day was over,

Home must come the rover,

For mother's kiss, - sweeter this

Than any other thing.

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WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

THE OWL AND THE PUSSY CAT

THE Owl and the Pussy Cat went to sea

In a beautiful pea-green boat.

They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the moon above,
And sang to a small guitar,

"Oh, lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love!

What a beautiful Pussy you are, - you are;
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”

Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
How wonderful sweet you sing!

Oh, let us be married, too long we have tarried, —
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away for a year and a day
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood, a piggy-wig stood
With a ring in the end of his nose,
With a ring in the end of his nose.

his nose;

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the piggy, "I will."

So they took it away, and were married next day
By the turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined upon mince and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon,

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

the moon;

EDWARD LEAR.

THE VIOLET

Down in a green and shady bed

A modest violet grew,