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ARIETTE. i

LITTLE BELL.

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LITTLE BELL. He prayeth well who loveth well Both man, and bird, and beast.—COLERIDGE. PIPED the Blackbird on the beechwood spray— il Pretty maid. slow wandering this way, 4< What's your name ?" quoth he— What's vour name ? Oh! stop and straight unfold, Fretty maid, with showery curls of gold." Little Bell," said she. Little Bell sat down beneath the rocks- Tossed aside her gleaming golden locks— "Bonnybifdl" quoth she— Sing me your finest song before I go." Here's the very finest song I know, Little Bell," said he. And the Blackbird piped—you never heard Half so gay a song from any bird— Full of quips and wiles, Now so round and rich, now soft and slow, All for love of that sweet face below, Dimpled o'er with smiles. And the while that bonny bird did pour His full heart out, freely, o'er and o'er, 'Neath the morning skies, In the littla childish heart below, All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow, And shine forth in happy overflow, From the blue bright eyes. Down the dell she tripped, and through the glade,- Peeped the Squirrel from the hazel shade, And from out the tree Swung, and leaped, and frolicked, void of fear— While both Blackbird piped, that all might hear— Little Bell!"—piped he. Little Bell sat down amid the fern— Squirrel, Squirrel, to your task return- Bring me nuts!" quoth she. Up, away the frisky Squirrel hies— Golden wood-lights glancing in his eyes,— And adown the tree, Great ripe nuts, kissed brown by July sun, In the little lap, dropt, one by one — Hark how Blackbird pipes to see the sun! Happy Bell!" pipes he. Little Bell looked up and down the glade.— Squirrel. Squirrel, from the nut-tree shade, Bonny Blackbird, if you're not afraid, Come and share with me!" Down came Squirrel, eager for his fare,— Down came bonny Blackbird, I declare. Ah the merry three And the while those frolic playmates twain Piped and frisked from bough to bough again, 'Neath the morning skies, In the little childish heart below, All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow, And shine out, in happy overflow, From her blue, bright eyes. By her snow white cot, at close of day, Knelt sweet Bell, with folded palms to pray- Very calm and clear Rose the praying voice to where, unseen In blue Heaven, an angel shape serene Paused awhile to hear. What good child is this," the angel said, That with happy heart beside her bed, Prays so lovingly?" Low and soft, oh very low and soft, Crooned the Blackbird in the orchard croft, "Bell, dear Bell!" crooned he. u Whom God's creatures love," the angel fair Murmured God doth bless with angel's care; Child, thy bed shall be Folded safe from harm—love, deep and kind, Shall watch around and leave good gifts behind, Little Bell, for thee." —Athentzum.

HOUSE-HUNTING IN "WALES.—1845.

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