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80 THE TOWN AND COUNTRY CHILD.
The shilfa's nest, that seems to be
Child of the town! for thee, alas!
Child of the country! on the lawn
Child of the town and bustling street,
Thy paths are paved for five long miles,
Thy groves and hills are peaks and tiles;
Thy fragrant air is yon thick smoke,
Which shrouds thee like a mourning-cloak;
And thou art cabined and confined
At once from sun, and dew, and wind;
Or set thy tottering feet but on
Thy lengthened walks of slippery stone;
The coachman there careering reels,
With goaded steeds and maddening wheels:
And Commerce pours each poring son
In pelf's pursuit and hollos' run;
While, flushed with wine, and stung at play,
Men rush from darkness into day,
The stream's too strong for thy small bark;
There nought can sail, save what is stark.
Fly from the town, sweet child! for health Is happiness, and strength, and wealth. There is a lesson in each flower, A story in each stream and bower; On every herb on which you tread Are written words which, rightly read, Will lead you from earth's fragrant sod To hope, and holiness, and God.
THE TWO BOYS. — Miss Lamb.
I Saw a boy with eager eye
82 A SONG TO CREATING WISDOM.
The boy passed slowly on, and, with a sigh,
Of sufferings the poor have many,
Which never can the rich annoy.
I soon perceived another boy,
Who looked as if he'd not had any
Food for that day at least, enjoy
The sight of cold meat in a tavern larder.
This boy's case, thought I, is surely harder;
Thus hungry longing, thus without a penny,
Beholding choice of dainty-dressed meat;
No wonder if he wish he ne'er had learned to eat.
A SONG TO CREATING WISDOM. — Watts.
Eternal Wisdom, thee we praise,
Thee the creation sings;
And heaven's high palace rings.
Place me on the bright wings of day,
To travel with the sun;
The wonders thou hast done!
Thy hand, how wide it spread the sky.
How glorious to behold!
And starred with sparkling gold.
There thou hast bid the globes of light
Their endless circles run;
And day obeys the sun.
Downward I turn my wondering eyes On clouds and storms below,
The noisy winds stand ready there
Thy orders to obey, With sounding wings they sweep the air
To make thy chariot way.
There, like a trumpet, loud and strong, Thy thunder shakes our coast;
On the thin air, without a prop, Hang fruitful showers around;
Their fatness on the ground.
How did thy wondrous skill array The fields in charming green;
The rolling mountains of the deep Observe thy strong command;
84 THE COFFEE SLIPS.
Amidst thy watery kingdoms, Lord,
The finny nations play,
Rush through the northern sea.
Thy glories blaze all nature round,
And strike the gazing sight,
With terror and delight.
Infinite strength, and equal skill,
Our souls with vast amazement fill,
But the sweet beauties of thy grace
Our softer passions move;
We see, adore and love!
THE COFFEE SUPS. — Miss Lamb.
Whene'er I fragrant coffee drink,