FOR CHILDREN. 187

Sails with idle unconcern—
Prithee, trifler, cans¢ thou burn?
Madly heedless as thou art,

Know thy danger, and depart:
Why persist ?—I plead in vain,
Singed it falls and writhes in pain.

Is not this—deny who can—
Is not this a type of man ?
Like the fly, he rashly tries
Pleasure’s burning sphere, and dies.
Vain the friendly caution, still
He rebels, alas! and will.
What I sing let all apply,
Flies are weak, and man’s a fly.
Bruce.

 

THE SWALLOW AND RED-BREAST.

THE swallows, at the close of day,

When autumn shone with fainter ray,

Around the chimney circling flew,

Ere yet they bade a long adieu

To climes, where soon the winter drear

Should close the unrejoicing year.

Now with swift wing they skim aloof,

Now settle on the crowded roof,

As counsel and advice to take,

Ere they the chilly north forsake ;—-

Then one, disdainful, turned his eye

Upon a red-breast twittering nigh,

And thus began with taunting scorn :-—
« Thou household imp, obscure, forlorn,