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EASY POETRY.

THE MONTHS.

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JANUARY brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow;
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again ;
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
Stirs the dancing daffodil ;
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet;
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams;
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies ;
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gilly-flowers;
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne;
Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot ;
Fresh October brings the pheasant,-
Then to gather nuts is pleasant ;

* Mothers.

Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast ;
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.

SARA COLERIDGE, 1803-1852.

THE SPRING MORNING. Get up, little sister, the morning is bright, And the birds are all singing to welcome the light; The buds are all opening, the dew's on the flower; If you shake but a branch, see! there falls quite a

shower. By the side of their mothers, look! under the trees, How the young lambs are skipping about as they

please! And by all those rings on the water I know The fishes are merrily swimming below. The bee, I dare say, has been long on the wing, To get honey from every flower of the spring ; For the bee never idles, but labours all day, And thinks (wise little insect !) work better than play. The lark's singing gaily; it loves the bright sun, And rejoices that now the gay spring has begun; For the spring is so cheerful, I think 'twould be

wrong If we did not feel happy to hear the lark's song. Get up, for when all things are merry and glad, Good children should never be lazy and sad; For God gives us daylight, dear sister; that we May rejoice like the lark, and may work like the bee.

LADY FLORA HASTINGS, DIED 1839.

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