The moon is the lamp he paints by, Jack Frost is the artist's name. - Selected "SOME JACK FROST. OME one has been in the garden, All the green leaves are withered; Now, who do you think has been there? "Some one has been in the forest, Cracking the chestnut burrs; Who is it dropping the chestnuts, Whenever a light wind stirs ? "Some one has been on the hilltop, "Some one has been at the windows, "Some one is all the time working Out on the pond so blue, Bridging it over with crystal; Who is it, now? Can you tell who? "While his good bridge he is building, We will keep guard at the gate; And when he has it all finished, Hurrah for the boys that can skate! "Let him work on: we are ready; - Selected FROST PICTURES. PICTURES on the window, Painted by Jack Frost, Coming at the midnight, And a waterfall. Here a branch of coral From the briny sea; There a weary traveler Resting 'neath a tree; There a mighty forest Of the torrid zone. Here a swamp, all tangled, - Then a breath, the lightest Jack Frost catches quickly, And thus you are painting, Will not pass away Like those Jack Frost's fingers Each kind word or action Is lovely in the light; Then be very careful, Trace your window o'er; Made by kindness bright, Paint your glass with pictures Of the true and right. Selectea THE FROST. HE Frost looked forth one still, clear night, THE And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight. So through the valley and over the height, In silence I'll take my way; I will not go on like that blustering train, Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest; Of the quivering lake he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear He went to the windows of those who slept, Most beautiful things; there were flowers and trees; But he did one thing that was hardly fair, "Now, just to set them a-thinking, I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he, LITTLE SNOWFLAKES. THE HE snowflakes fall so gently, For merry little feet, While cheeks grow round and rosy, And laughter is so sweet. Some children are like snowflakes, Their step is light and low, And when they walk from place to place, Oh, let us be like snowflakes, So soft and pure and bright, And when God looks into our souls, He'll see a pleasing sight. -M. M. |