WHAT SO SWEET?
WHAT so sweet as summer,
When the sky is blue,
And the sunbeams’ arrows
Pierce the green earth through?
What so sweet as birds are,
Putting into trills
The perfume of the wild-rose,
The murmur of the rills?
What so sweet as flowers,
Clovers white and red,
Where the brown bee-chemist
Finds its daily bread?
What so sweet as sun-showers,
When the big cloud passes,
And the fairy rainbow
Seems to touch the grasses?
What so sweet as winds are,
Blowing from the woods,
Hinting in their music
Of dreamy solitudes?
Rain, and song, and flower,
When the summer’s shine
Makes the green earth’s beauty
Seem a thing divine.
Mary N. Prescott.
COUNTING BABY’S TOES.
DEAR little bare feet,
Dimpled and white,
In your long night-gown
Wrapped for the night,
Come let me count all
Your queer little toes,
Pink as the heart
Of a shell or a rose.
One is a lady
That sits in the sun;
Two is a baby,
And three is a nun;
Four is a lily
With innocent breast,
And five is a birdie
Asleep on her nest.
THE WELL.