LITTLE ONES AT HOME,

You make all the woods
And the valleys to ring,
You bring the first news
Of the earliest spring,
With your loud and silvery notes.

It was God, said a lark,

As he rose from the earth ;
He gives us the good we enjoy:

He painted our wings,

He gave us our voice,

He finds us our food,

He bids us rejoice—

Good-morning, my beautiful santo

L. H. Sigourney.