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WS the sleepy world in his bed of clouds
Turns over toward the dawning,

There are too many girls, and too many boys
Who sleep through the long, bright morning.

Then the sun peeps in through a chink to say

(But never a word do they hear — not they),
“The world is awake; the bird’s in the blue;
He'll catch the worm; not you, not you.”

But here are the girls, and here are the boys
Who woke with the birds’ first singing ;
They cry to the sun, “ You're a little late,
For the morning news we’re bringing.”
They top the hill, and they take the world,
These clear-eyed “ Firsts,” with their flag unfurled.
And the sun, with his kindly and wise old face,
Remarks to the earth, “ They’re the heirs of the race.”

Mary A. Lathbury.