THE WIND AND THE LEAVES. 13 And wouldn't it be wiser, Than waiting like a dunce, And learn the thing at once? 66 XV. THE WIND AND THE LEAVES. AUTHOR NOT KNOWN. COME, little leaves," said the wind one day, "Come o'er the meadows with me and play. Put on your dress of red and gold; Summer is gone and the days are cold." Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call, "Cricket, good-by, we've been friends so long; Oh, you will miss us, right well we know! "Dear little lamb in your fleecy fold, Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went; XVI. THE BROWN THRUSH. LUCY LARCOM. THERE'S a merry brown thrush sitting up in the 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 my tree, I'm as happy as happy can be!" And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see, And five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree? Don't meddle! Don't touch! little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy! 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; TAKE CARE OF THE MINUTES. 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? XVII. TAKE CARE OF THE MINUTES. WE AUTHOR NOT KNOWN. We are but minutes - little things, We are but minutes, yet each one bears We are but minutes; when we bring We are but minutes; use us well, For how we are used, we must one day tell. 15 XVIII. THE CHILD'S WORLD. AUTHOR NOT KNOWN. GREAT, wide, beautiful, wonderful world, The wonderful air is over me, And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree; You friendly Earth, how far do you go, With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow; With cities, and gardens, and cliffs, and isles, Ah! you are so great, and I am so small, "You are more than the earth, though you are such a dot : You can love and think, and the earth can not!" What we ought to do this minute, "Will be better done," he'll cry, "If to-morrow we begin it." "Put it off," says By-and-by. Those who heed the treacherous wooing Will his faithless guidance rue; What we always put off doing, We shall reach what we endeavor, Leads the pilot By-and-by. |