For Memorizing

THE DANDELION.

Bright little dandelion,
Downy, yellow face,
Peeping up among the grass
With such gentle grace;
Minding not the April wind
Blowing rude and cold,
Brave little dandelion

With a heart of gold.

Meek little dandelion

Changing into curls

At the magic touch of these

Merry boys and girls.

When they pinch thy dainty throat,
Strip thy dress of green,
On thy soft and gentle face

Not a cloud is seen.

Poor little dandelion,

Now all gone to seed,

Scattered roughly by the wind

Like a common weed.

Thou hast lived thy little life

Smiling every day;

Who could do a better thing

In a better way.

-Author not known.

For Memorizing

IF EVER I SEE.

If ever I see,

On bush or tree,

Young birds in their pretty nest,
I must not, in play,

Steal the birds away,

To grieve their mother's breast.

My mother, I know,
Would sorrow so,

Should I be stolen away;

So I'll speak to the birds.

In my softest words

Nor hurt them in my play.

And when they can fly
In the bright blue sky,
They'll warble a song to me;
And then if I'm sad

It will make me glad

To think they are happy and free.

-Lydia Maria Child.

For Memorizing

DRIVE THE NAIL ARIGHT.

Drive the nail aright,

Hit it on the head;

Strike with all your might,

While the iron's red.

When you've work to do
Do it with a will;

They who reach the top,

First must climb the hill.

Standing at the foot,
Gazing at the sky
How can you get up,
If you never try.

Though you stumble oft

Never be downcast

Try and try again

You'll succeed at last.

For Memorizing

And the columbines bravely

As sentinels stand

On the look-out with all their
Red trumpets in hand.

Meek-faced anemones,
Drooping and sad;
Great yellow violets,
Smiling out glad;
Buttercup's faces,

Beaming and bright;
Clovers, with bonnets,-
Some red and some white;
Daisies, their white fingers
Half-clasped in prayer;
Dandelions, proud of

The gold of their hair;
Innocents, children

Guileless and frail.
Meek little faces

Upturned and pale;
Wild-wood geraniums,
All in their best,
Languidly leaning

In purple gauze dressed:-
All are assembled

This sweet Sabbath-day
To hear what the priest
In his pulpit will say.

-Clara Smith.