A Spider who sat in her web on the wall

Perceived the poor victims and pitied their fall; She cried, "Of such murders how guiltless am I!” Then ran to regale on a new-taken fly.

Ex. 71. I CAN AND I CAN'T.

AS

Our Young Folks.

S on through life's journey we go day by day,

There are two whom we meet each turn of the way,

To help or to hinder, to bless or to ban,

And the names of these two are," I can't” and “I can.”

"I can't" is a dwarf, a poor, pale, puny imp;
His eyes are half blind, and his walk is a limp;
He stumbles and falls, or lies writhing with fear,
Though danger is distant and succor is near.

"I can" is a giant; unbending he stands;

There is strength in his arm and skill in his hands;
He asks for no favors: he wants but a share
Where labor is honest and wages are fair.

"I can't" is a coward, half fainting with fright;
At the first thought of peril he sinks out of sight;
Slinks and hides till the noise of the battle is past,
Or sells his best friends and turns traitor at last.

"I can" is a hero, the first in the field:

Though others may falter, he never will yield;
He makes the long marches, he strikes the last blow,
His charge is the whirlwind that scatters the foe.

How grandly and nobly he stands to his trust
When roused at the call of a cause that is just!

Where our fireside comforts sit,
In the wildest weather;
O, they wander wide who roam,
For the joys of life, from home!

Ex. 73. THE ONLY COMFORTER. Moore.

THOU! who dry'st the mourner's tear,
How dark this world would be,

If, when deceived and wounded here,
We could not fly to thee!

The friends who in our sunshine live
When winter comes are flown;
And he who has but tears to give
Must weep those tears alone.
But thou wilt heal that broken heart,
Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded part,
Breathes sweetness out of woe!

When joy no longer soothes or cheers,
And e'en the hope that threw
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears

Is dimmed and vanished too!
Oh! who would bear life's stormy doom,
Did not thy wing of Love

Come brightly wafting through the gloom
One peace-branch from above?
Then sorrow, touched by thee, grows bright

With more than rapture's ray,

As darkness shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day!

HERE'S no dew left on the daisie
There's no rain left in heaven.

TE no

I've said my "seven times over and Seven times one are seven.

I am old, so old I can write a letter My birthday lessons are done. The lambs play always, they know They are only one times one.

O Moon! in the night I have seen you And shining so round and low. You were bright- ah, bright- but yo You are nothing now but a bow.

two twin turtle-doves dwell! int toll me the purple clapper angs in your clear green bell!

ne your nest, with the young ones in it, — not steal them away:

You may trust me, linnet, linnet ! even times one to-day.

- THE BIRD LET LOOSE.

Moore.

E bird let loose in eastern skies, When hastening fondly home, stoops to earth her wing, nor flies ere idle warblers roam;

h she shoots through air and light, ve all low delay,

nothing earthly bounds her flight. shadow dims her way.

nt me, God, from every care
stain of passion free,
through Virtue's purer air,
old my course to thee!
to cloud, no lure to stay
soul, as home she springs;
_nshine on her joyful way,

freedom on her wings