Then he flew to the mountain and powdered its crest, Of the quivering lake, he spread He went to the window of those who slept, Most beautiful things! there were flowers and trees; But he did one thing, that was hardly fair; Shall 'tchick!' to tell them I'm drinking!" LESSON LIX. THE ARK AND THE DOVE. THERE was a noble ark, Sailing o'er waters dark, And wide around; Not one tall tree was seen, Nor flow'r, nor leaf of green: Sea without bound! Then a soft wing was spread, So to the ark she fled, Christ is the ark, my love,- A LESSON LX. THE PEACH. FARMER brought to his children five beautiful peaches. They saw this fruit for the first time, and they were enchanted with the lovely peaches, with rosy cheeks and velvet down. The father gave one to each of his four children, and the fifth to his wife. In the evening, as they were retiring to rest, he asked, "Now, how have you liked your beautiful peaches?" "Very much, dear father," said the eldest; "so acid and so soft! I have kept the stone of mine that I may have a tree of my own." "Well done!" said the father, "that was thoughtful, and you will make a good farmer." "I," said the youngest, "have eaten mine, but I threw away the stone. My mother gave me besides, half of hers. Oh! it tasted so sweet and melting!" "You have not done well," said the father, "and yet it was natural, for greediness is common to children." Then began the second son, "I have cracked the stone which my little brother threw away, and there was a kernel inside which tasted like a nut. As for my peach, I sold it for as much as will buy twelve when I go to town." But the father shook his head. "Pray to God," said he, "to keep you from the sin of covetousness. And you, Edward ?" "I have given mine to George, our neighbour's son, who has lain so long in a fever." "Now," asked the father, "who has enjoyed his peach the most?" The three others cried out, "Brother Edward!" but he alone was silent, and his mother kissed him with tears in her eyes. LESSON LXI. THE ROSE. HOW fair is the rose! what a beautiful flower! The glory of April and May! But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, And they wither and die in a day. Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast, When its leaves are all dead, and its fine colours lost, So frail is the youth and the beauty of men, Though they bloom and look gay like the rose; But all our fond care to preserve them is vain, Time kills them as fast as he goes. Then I'll not be proud of my youth nor my beauty, But gain a good name by well doing my duty; LESSON LXII. A CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. BRIGHT little star on the evening's breast, How beams thy golden light? Fast thou art sinking in the west; And I, when I have bent my knee, And thinking on that brighter star, And oh, when I at last shall lie |