FOR CHILDREN, 77

THE GOLDFINCH STARVED IN HIS
CAGE. .

Timez was when I was free as air,
The thistle’s downy seed my fare,
My drink the morning dew ;
1 perched at will on every spray,
My form genteel, my plumage gay,
My strains for ever new.
But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,
And form genteel, were all in vain,
And of a transient date ;'
For, caught, and caged, and starved to death,
In dying sighs my little breath
Soon passed the wiry grate.

Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes
And thanks for this effectual close
And cure of every ill!
More cruelty could none express ,
And I, if you had shown me less,
Had been your prisoner still.
Cowz 27.

 

THE WIND IN A FROLIC.

Tue wind one morning sprang up from sleep,
Saying, “ Now for a frolic! now for a leap !
Now for a mad-cap galloping chase !

I'll make a commotion in every place !”

2 Of a transient date—of short duration.
H 2