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(Mgmd Jwtrg.


(Mgmd Jwtrg. WHAT I SAW I saw a jockey, on a horse of stone I saw a statue, picking at a bone I saw a rat, dressed up with silks and frills I saw a lady, covered o'er with quills I saw a board, was dancing on the street; I saw a clown, whose height was forty feet; I saw a tower, chasing butterflies and bees I saw a boy, who was higher than the trees I saw a crow, with rails on sleepers load I saw a steamboat, dancing on the road I saw a man, all grown o'er with weeds I saw a garden, dressesd in silks and beads I saw a doll, making both tarts and pies I saw a baker, flying through the skies I saw a meteor, swimming in a brook I saw a minnow, reading at a book I saw a girl, with an ivory head I saw a cane, was taking milk and bread I saw a cat, with feathers red ana green I saw a parrot, no longer than a beam I saw a mushroom, growing on a tree I saw an apple, quite as large as me; I saw a scare-crow, j umping o'er a fence I saw a rider, sold for three half-pence I saw a candle, longer than a mast; I saw a rope, was hammering at a last; I saw a cobbler, made of glass and wood; I saw a mirror, sitting taking food I saw a tramp, with crest and coat of arma; I saw a baronet, without legs or arms I saw a turnip, dancing a strathspay I saw a fiddler, eating grass and hal I saw a donkey, and I got a fright; It was my shadow, I saw no more that night. MAC A YEAR. I love the spring-time of the year, When nature's giving birth We wipe away the winter tear, And join the joys of earth. We watch the tender buds that bloom, We watch the grasses spring, And from the trailings of the gloom We hear the blackbird sing. With hearts o'er tilled we shout with joy When spring doth mount her throne, And songs of praise our tongues employ „ That winter's past and gone. I love the summer's tinted dress, O'er scattered broad with fiow'rs; The butterfly, all loveliness, The perfume-laden bow'rd; The constant hum of busy bee, The sky-lark's early song, And nature breathing harmony In love-notes loud and long. The golden fruit on bended tree The luscious fruit that climb; I love the pomp and pageantry Of glorious summer time. When happy summer's passed away, With all its loveliness, And autumn comes with mist-crowned hills, And royal purple dress The sloping fields are dotted o'er With ripened golden sheaves, And where the daises grew before A cemetery of leaves. The hearty laugh and rustic song Ring thro' the thickset wood, And merry streamlets roll along Amid the solitude. Then winter comes with dreary nights, And shivers for the poor, And gently down the snow flake lights Close to the cottage door. The hoary frost with iron hand, Hath choked the waters round We see the snow-white coated land With crystal circlets bound. So round and round the seasons roll, With gentle smile and tear, And thus upon the eternal scroll Is writ another year. Penartb, May, 1894. D. T. MORRIS.