At home his midnight hours secure,
And drive the robber from the door.
For this his breast with kindness glows,
For this his hand the food bestows.
5. And shall thy indolence impart
A warmer friendship to his heart,
That thus he robs me of my due,
Το pamper such vile things as you
6. "I own," with meekness, Puss replied,
"Superior merit on your side;
Nor does my heart with envy swell,
To find it recompens'd so well:
Yet I, in what my nature can,
Contribute to the good of man.

7 Whose claws destroy the pilf'ring mouse?
Who drives the vermine from the house?
Or, watchful for the lab'ring swain,
From lurking rats secures the grain ?
From hence if he rewards bestow,

Why should your heart with gall o'erflow?
Why pine my happiness to see,

Since there's enough for you and me ?"
"Thy words are just," the Farmer cried,
And spurn'd the snarler from his side.

SECTION X.

The Wheat and the Weeds.

1. "Twas in a pleasant month of spring, When flow'rets bloom and warblers sing: A field of wheat began to rise,

The farmer's hope, his country's prize.
When lo! amid the op'ning ears,

A various crop of weeds

appears.

The poppy, soldier-like array'd,
Its flimsy scarlet flow'rs display'd.
Some, like the lofty sky, were blue;
And some were ting'd with golden hue:
But ev'ry where the wheat was seen,
Clad in one robe of modest green.
2. It chanc'd three youths, in city bred,
That knew to eat-not raise their bread,

For pleasure's sake, had rambled there,
To see the sun, and breathe fresh air,
Of herbs and grain they little knew
What Linnæus wrote, or Sinclair grew :
But each, as o'er the field they gaz'd,
What fancy led to, pluck'd and prais'd.
3. "See," said the first, "this flow'r so red,
That gently bows its blushing head:
Can the whole field a plant display,
So rich, so noble, and so gay?"

"Yes," said the next, " the flow'r I show,
With star-like rays, and sky-like blue,
So much does your dull plant outshine,
That the best choice is surely mine."

Stop," said the third, "the flow'r I hold, With cluster'd leaves of burnish'd gold, Than yours or his, is richer drest; The choice I've made, is doubtless best." In this, however, each agreed, That nothing could his own exceed; And that the rising blades of green, Did not deserve to grow between. 5 A Farmer chanc'd behind the gate To overhear the youths' debate; Knowing from ign'rance error springs, He strove to teach them better things. 6. "My lads," he said, "now understand, These are but weeds that spoil our land; But the green blades you trample down, Are wheat, man's food, and nature's crown. With art and pains the crop is sown, And thus your daily bread is grown. Alas! your judgment was not right, Because you judg'd from outward sight."

SECTION XI.

Economy the source of charity.

By gen'rous goodness taught, my early youth
Soon learn'd humanity. My parents died-
Orphans have claims on charitable souls;
The pious Edgar thought so mov'd perhaps

2.

3.

By the soft eloquence of infant tears,
Perchance by nature prompted, to his roof
He led the fatherless.-

It was the sea
Of nuptial happiness: a rustic cot,

Small, yet convenient, for their wants were few:
And Edgar, knowing what all men should learn,
Was with his lot contented.-Happy state!
Labour he plied for exercise, not gain.

At early dawn, he led me to the field;
And, drawing morals from each task he took,
Told me,
"That every seed, well sown on earth,
Would yield full harvest in that awful day,
When all arrears of labour shall be paid;
Each well-meant toil rewarded."-

Once, perchance,

I found him busied near a murm❜ring rill:

To various little streams he turn'd its source,

Where, wand'ring devious thro' his neat-dress'd grounds, It cheer'd the green copse, fill'd the earing corn; Then trickled gently through the perfum'd grove. 4. "Mark well, my child," he said; " this little stream Shall teach thee Charity. It is a source

5.

6.

I never knew to fail: directed thus

Be that soft stream, the fountain of thy heart.
For, Oh! my much lov'd child, I trust thy heart
Has those affections that shall bless thyself;

And flowing softly, like this little rill,

Cheer all that droop."

The good man did not err;

The milk of human-kindness warm'd my breast;

Young as I was, I felt for others' woes,

And, when I could, reliev'd them.-Yet I was young! And, having lavish'd all my infant store

In gewgaw toys, and childish fooleries,

I do remember well, a vet'ran old,

Maim'd and disfigur'd by the hand of war,
Implor'd my charity.

I felt, alas!

His various wants-sore, sick, and wan, he seem'd:
My little heart bled at each wound he show'd.
Alas! alas! replied my infant thoughts,

7.

8.

And shall want cloud the evening of his days Whose noon of life was toil?-And then I wept.It was the first time that I e'er knew want:

I was indeed a bankrupt.

Edgar came.

I wept, but spoke not; for my heart was full.
"What wilt thou give, my boy?"-Fearing a lie,
I sobb'd out truth most sadly. Edgar felt;
Pardon'd my folly; (for he lov'd my tears ;)
And gave what sooth'd the poor man's misery.
But, in our evening walk, behold! the stream
Was dry. I ask'd the cause-

"Mark me, my child
This rill, I told thee oft, through all thy life,
Should teach thee Charity.-Now let it teach,
If yet thou hast to learn, that the bless'd source
Of lib'ral deeds, is wise Economy.

This morn, like thee, I drew the stream too fast Now-when the parch'd glebe wants its wat'ry aid, The source is all exhausted."

1441

CHAPTER III.

DIDACTIC PIECES.

SECTION I.

To some children listening to a lark.

1. SEE the lark prunes his active wings,
Rises to heav'n, and soars, and sings!
His morning hymns, his mid-day lays,
Are one continued song of praise.
He speaks his Maker all he can,
And shames the silent tongue of man.
2. When the declining orb of light
Reininds him of approaching night,
His warbling vespers swell his breast;
And, as he sings, he sinks to rest.

8. Shall birds instructive lessons teach,
And we be deaf to what they preach ?—
No, ye dear nestlings of my heart;
Go, act the wiser songster's part:
Spurn your warm couch at early dawn,
And with your God begin the morn.
To him your grateful tribute pay,
Through ev'ry period of the day.
To him your evening songs direct;
His eye shall watch, his arm protect:
Though darkness reigns, he's with you still;
Then sleep, my babes, and fear no ill.

The advantages of early religion.

1. HAPPY the child, whose tender years,
Receive instruction well;

Who hates the sinner's path, and fears
The road that leads to hell.

2. When we give up our youth to God,
"Tis pleasing in his

eyes :

A flow'r, that's offer'd in the bud,
Is no vain sacrifice.

3. 'Tis easy work, if we begin

To fear the Lord betimes;
While sinners, who grow old in sin,
Are harden'd in their crimes.

4. 'Twill save us from a thousand snares,
To mind religion young;
It will preserve our foll'wing years,
And make our virtue strong.

5. To thee, Almighty God! to thee
Our childhood we rezign;
'Twill please us to look back and see
That our whole lives were thine.

6. Let the sweet work of pray'r and praise
Employ our youngest breath;

Thus we're prepar'd for longer days,
Or fit for early death.

COTTON