Cousin Hatty's Hymns and Twilight Stories Part 11

A SONG FOR MAY MORNING.

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Awake! awake! the dusky night Is fading from the sky; Awake! and with the early light To pleasant fields we'll hie.

Come with me, and I will show Where the fragrant wild-flowers grow; We will weave a garland gay For our smiling Queen of May.

The sun peeps up behind the hills, And hark! the morning song Of little birds the fresh air fills, As now we skip along.

By the brook-side cold and wet, Blooms the pale, white violet; There's the purple blossom, too, Nodding with its weight of dew.

The gentle wind just lifts the head Of many a columbine; And, taken from their rocky bed, They in our wreaths shall twine.

Saxifrage, so small and sweet, Grows in plenty at our feet; From the gra.s.s we gather up, Golden bright, the b.u.t.tercup.

Now for the trailing evergreen, That in the woodland springs, And we will crown our May-day queen With buds this fair month brings.

Merriest of all the year Is the day we welcome here; We will sing and dance away, In our glee, this long May-day.

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THE CHILD AND THE FLOWER-ELF.

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"I was walking, dearest mother, This morning, by the brook, And tired at last I rested me Within a shady nook.

"There all was still and lonely, And suddenly I heard A little voice,--a sweeter one Than note of any bird.

"I looked above, around me, I saw not whence it came; And yet that tone of music Was calling me by name.

"The violet beside me Bloomed with its purple cup, And a tiny face, so lovely, Amidst its leaves peeped up.

"Again the silver music,-- The voice I loved to hear,-- Upon its sweet breath floated, And bade me not to fear.

"'I am the elf,' it whispered, 'Who in the violet dwells, And every blossom hides one Within its fragrant cells.

"'If you will list our teaching, And catch our faintest tone, Your heart will be as spotless, As loving as our own.'

"And then, as I was gazing, It vanished from my sight; Once more the violet nodded, And sought the suns.h.i.+ne bright."

"My darling child, the elfins That live within the flowers Sweet sounds are ever breathing, To glad this world of ours.

"Well may we weep and sorrow, If they are silent all; Then are our souls too sinful To heed their spirit call.

"The pure in heart alone can hear Those precious words and low; And by their lessons purer yet Throughout their lives shall grow."

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THE FOUR GIFTS.

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A new-born babe was sleeping Within its cradle fair, And angel guards were keeping Its peaceful slumbers there.

Gone was the age of fairies, And of the elfins wild, Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch, Were wont to bless the child.

But in a distant city, Fays that still glad the earth, Four gentle little children, Hailed with delight his birth.

Out spake the eldest sister, "O, let us fairies play, And give to our young brother Some precious gift to-day.

"Sit down around the fireside, And I my gift will tell."

And the little children sat them down The fancy pleased them well.

Again thus spake the eldest, "I 'll give him _beauty_ rare; His eyes shall be as diamonds bright, His brow like marble fair.

"He shall have golden ringlets, His cheeks shall mock the rose; And he shall be the loveliest Where'er his light form goes."

The next replied, "Oh! sister, Not such a gift is mine; For beauty's charms, though lovely, Must perish and decline.

"I'll give him _wit_ and _talents_; In manhood he shall stand Among the gifted and the wise, That bless our native land."

"I'll give him _sweet good-temper_,"

Said the third loving child; "He shall make glad our happy home By actions kind and mild."

The youngest raised her wondering eyes, And said, in accents low, "I thought the gift I chose would be The first that you 'd bestow.

"I'll give our little brother _Obedience_ to-day, And he shall mind, with cheerfulness, All that our parents say."

Oh! blessed is the childish heart, In life's first opening dawn, For all its high and holy thoughts From heavenly founts are drawn.

May our most valued blessings be Obedience and love!

Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, full Of teachings from above!

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