THE TABLET ON THE WALL.

TALL and grey is the old church tower

High on the breezy hill:

The churchyard blooms with many a flower;
There one might spend a pleasant hour,

102

THE TABLET ON THE WALL.

Alas! along that walk so gay,

Where birds, the morning long,
Do hop about; one summer day
I saw a coffin, small and grey,
Borne to the porch along.

THE COBWEB.

Он, how pretty! Come and see
The cobweb hanging from the tree,
How fine it is; how regular

The threads that make its ladders are!
And how the dew, like shining beads,
Hangs trembling on the slender threads!

But, how sad! Poor little fly,
You've sought that pretty home to die,
Its beauty tempted you; you thought,
Before the film your wings had caught,

104

THE COBWEB.

It was a pleasure palace; you

Were cheated by the sparkling dew.

See, the spider comes apace,

To seize

Ah, how

you struggle to be free;

I cannot bear your pain to see.

Would I could save you, pretty fly,

But, 'tis too late, for

you must die.

Let me try to bear in mind

Your fate, when snares in life I find;

Though they beautiful may be,

With all that most entices me,

Let me turn my foot away,

Lest I be the tempter's prey.