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Songs of Town and Country.

'God made the country, and man made the town.'

SONGS

OF

TOWN AND COUNTRY.

THE SONG OF THE CITY SPARROWS.

WHEN the summer-time is ended,
And the winter days are near;
When the bloom hath all departed
With the childhood of the year;

When the martins and the swallows
Flutter, cowardly, away,

Then the people can remember
That the sparrows always stay;

That, although we're plain and songless,
And poor city birds are we,
Yet, before the days of darkness
We, the sparrows, never flee:

But we hover round the window,
And we peck against the pane,
While we twitteringly tell them
That the spring will come again.

And when drizzly dull November
Falls so gloomily o'er all,
And the misty fog enshrouds them

In a dim and dreary pall;

When the streets all fade to dreamland,

And the people follow fast,

And it seems as though the sunshine
Was for evermore gone past,-

M

Then we glide among the housetops, And we track the murky waste, And we go about our business

With a cheerful earnest haste :

Not as though our food were plenty,
Or no dangers we might meet;
But as though the work of living
Was a healthy work, and sweet.
When the gentle snow descendeth,
Like a white and glistening shroud,
For the year whose life hath ended,
Floated upward like a cloud;

Then, although the open country
Shineth very bright and fair,
And the town is overclouded,
Yet we still continue there;

Even till the spring returneth,
Bringing with it brighter birds,
Unto whom the city people

Give their love and gentle words;

And we, yet again descending
To become the least of all,
Take our name as only sparrows!'
And are slighted till the fall;

Still we're happy, happy, happy,
Never minding what we be;
For we have a work and do it,
Therefore very blithe are we.

We enliven sombre winter,

And we're loved while it doth last, And we're not the only creatures Who must live upon the past.

With a chirrup, chirrup, chirrup,
We let all the slights go by,
And we do not find they hurt us
Or becloud the summer sky.

We are happy, happy, happy,

Never minding what we be; For we know the good Creator Even cares for such as we !

SADIE.

THE FOUNTAIN.

INTO the sunshine,

Full of the light,
Leaping and flashing
From morn till night!
Into the moonlight
Whiter than snow,
Waving so flower-like

When the winds blow!

Into the starlight

Rushing in spray,
Happy at midnight,

Happy by day!

Ever in motion

Blithsome and cheery,
Still climbing heavenward,

Never aweary ;—

Glad of all weathers,

Still seeming best,
Upward or downward
Motion thy rest ;—
Full of a nature

Nothing can tame,
Changed every moment
Ever the same;-

Ceaseless aspiring,

Ceaseless content,

Darkness or sunshine
Thy element ;-

Glorious fountain!

Let my heart be

Fresh, changeful, constant,

Upward, like thee!

LOWELL.

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