The skilful bee from flower to flower
Pursues its nectar’d store,
Nor has it instinct, skill or power
To please its Maker more.

But children, born with nobler powers,
In paths of vice may stray,
Or rise to virtue’s fragrant bower
In realms of endless day.

Then let me shun those wicked ways
Which lead to sin and shame,
So shall my heart be taught to praise
My Lord and Saviour’s name.

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LIZZY; A FAIRY TALE.

Lizzy was walking in a wood one day, and as she stooped under a tree to gather some flowers that grew at its foot, she heard a loud tapping high up in the tree; she looked up, and there she saw, clinging to a dead bough that industrious and happy bird, the woodpecker. “Are you going to dig out a chamber for yourself there?” asked Lizzy. “That bough is too small, I should think.”