A NURSE’S SONG.
The voice of children is heard on the green,
And laughing is heard on the hill;
When my heart is at rest within my breast,
And everything else is still.
“Now, come home, my children, the sun is down,
And the dews of night fall fast;
Come, leave off play, and let us away,
Till the morning appears in the east.”
No, no, let us play, for it is yet day—
And we cannot go to sleep;
Besides, in the sky, the little birds fly,
And the hills are all covered with sheep.
“Well, well, go and play till the light fades away,
And then go home to rest.”
The little ones leaped, and shouted, and laughed,
And all the hills echoed for joy.
THE SHEPHERD AND THE FAIRY.
A shepherd, who was of an unfortunately discontented turn of mind,—one who was much fonder of reclining lazily on a sunny bank, than of viewing his own lot on its sunny side—was one day moodily watching his flock, wishing himself all the while its owner instead of guardian; in other words, a happier man. His faithful dog lay beside him, and every now and then licked the hand of his master, as it hung listlessly by his side, and then looked up into his face, as if to read his thoughts. But the shepherd was in no humour to stroke the shaggy hide of his friend, Keeper—his envious musings having been diverted to the sleek coat of his master’s hunter, which had just bounded, with its wealthy rider, over an adjacent hedge. The sullen tender of flocks was all at once roused from his reverie by the small, silvery voice of a sprightly little fairy.
“What ails thee, my good man?” said she, tapping his shoulder with her wand; “you seem mighty melancholy. Have you met with any disaster?—lost anything?—perhaps your wife!”
“No such luck.”