4. When the burden and the heat
Of labour's task are o'er,
And kindly voices greet

The tired one at his door.

5. Come to the sunset tree!
The day is past and gone;
The woodman's axe lies free,
And the reaper's work is done.

6. Yes, tuneful is the sound

That dwells in whispering boughs; Welcome the freshness round,

And the gale that fans our brows:

7. But rest more sweet and still
Than ever nightfall gave,
Our yearning hearts shall fill
In the world beyond the grave.

8. There shall no tempest blow,

No scorching noon-tide heat;
There shall be no more snow,
No weary, wandering feet.

9. So we lift our trusting eyes
From the hills our fathers trod,

To the quiet of the skies,

To the Sabbath of our God.

THOMAS HOOD.

Born 1798-Died 1845.

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.

1. I remember, I remember,

The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn.
He never came a wink too soon,

Nor brought too long a day:

But now I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

2. I remember, I remember,

The roses red and white;
The violets and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birth-day-
The tree is living yet!

3. I remember, I remember,

Where I was used to swing;

And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing:

My spirit flew in feathers then,

That is so heavy now,

And summer pools could hardly cool

The fever on my brow!

4. I remember, I remember,

The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky :
It was a childish ignorance;
But now 'tis little joy

To know I'm further off from heaven
Than when I was a boy.

THOMAS MOORE.

Born 1779-Died 1852.

MY GARDEN.

1. I have a garden of my own,

Shining with flowers of every hue;
I loved it dearly while alone,

But I shall love it more with you;
And there the golden bees shall come

In summer-time at break of morn,

And wake us with their busy hum
Around the Siha's fragrant thorn.

2. I have a fawn from Aden's land,

On leafy buds and berries nurst;
And you shall feed him from your hand,
Though he may start with fear at first.
And I will lead you where he lies
For shelter in the noon-tide heat;
And you may touch his sleeping eyes,
And feel his little silvery feet.

HARTLEY COLERIDGE.

Born 1796-Died 1849.

TO AN INFANT.

1. Fain would I dive to find my infant self
In the unfathomed ocean of the past;
I can but find a sun-burnt prattling elf,
A forward urchin of four years at least.

2. The prettiest speech-'tis in my mind engrained--
That first awaked me from my baby-hood;
'Twas a grave saw affectionately feigned-
"We'll love you, little master,—if you're good."

3. Sweet babe, thou art not yet or good or bad,
Yet God is round thee, in thee, and above thee;
We love because we love thee, little lad,

And pray thou may'st be good-because we love thee.

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

Born 1819-Died 1875.

IN AN ALBUM.

1. My fairest child, I have no song to give you;

No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray; Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day :

2. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not dream them all day long,
And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever,
One grand sweet song.

THE KNIGHT'S LEAP.

1." So the foemen have fired the gate, men of mine;
And the water is spent and gone?

Then bring me a cup of the red Ahr wine—
I never shall drink but this one.

2." And reach me my harness, and saddle my horse,
And lead him me round to the door :

He must take such a leap to-night perforce
As horse never took before.

3. "I have fought my fight, I have lived my life,
I have drunk my share of wine;

From Trier to Coln1 there was never a knight
Led a merrier life than mine.

4." I have lived by the saddle for years twoscore;
And if I must die on tree-

Why the old saddle-tree which has borne me of yore
Is the properest timber for me.

5." So now to show bishop, and burgher, and priest,
How the Altenahr hawk must die:

If they smoke the old falcon out of his nest,
He must take to his wings and fly."

6. He harnessed himself by the clear moonshine,
And he mounted his horse at the door;

And he drained such a cup of the red Ahr wine
As man never drained before.

7. He spurred the old horse, and he held him tight,
And he leapt him out over the wall;

Out over the cliff, out into the night,
Three hundred feet of fall.

1 Trier..Coln, cities in Rhenish Prussia.

8. They found him next morning below in the glen,
With never a bone in him whole;-

A mass or a prayer now, good gentlemen,
For such a bold rider's soul !

THE LOST DOLL.

[The song sung to the water-babies by Mrs. Do-as-you-would-be-done-by.]

1. I once had a sweet little doll, dears,

The prettiest doll in the world;

Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,
And her hair was so charmingly curled.

But I lost my poor little doll, dears,
As I played in the heath one day ;

And I cried for more than a week, dears,
But I never could find where she lay.

2. I found my poor little doll, dears,

As I played in the heath one day:
Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,
For her paint is all washed away;
And her arm trodden off by the cows, dears,
And her hair not the least bit curled;
Yet for old sake's sake she is still, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world.

WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

THE FAIRIES.

1. Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men:
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!