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But its companions passed away,
And left the leaf to lone decay.
The gentle gales of spring went by,
The fruits and flowers of summer die.
The autumn winds swept o'er the hill,
And winter's breath came cold and chill.
The leaf now yielded to the blast,
And on the rushing stream was cast.
Far, far it glided to the sea,
And whirled and eddied wearily,
Tin suddenly it sank to rest,
And slumbered in the ocean's breast.
Thus life begins_its morning hours,
Bright as the birthday of the flowers
Thus passes like the leaves away,
As withered and as lost as they,
Beneath the parent roof we meet
In joyous groups, and gaily greet
The golden beams of love and light,
That kindle to the youthful sight.
But soon we part, and one by one,
Like leaves and flowers, the group is gone.
One gentle spirit seeks the tomb,
His brow yet fresh with childhood's bloom.
Another treads the paths of fame,
And barters peace to win a name.
Another still tempts fortune's wave,
And seeking wealth, secures a grave.
The last grasps yet the brittle thread-
Though friends are gone and joy is dead,
Still dares the dark and fretful tide,
And clutches at its power and pride,
Till suddenly the waters sever,
And like the leaf he sinks forcver.

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A FOUNTAIN varied gambols played,

Close by a humble brook ;
While gently murmuring through the glade,

Its peaceful course it took.

Perhaps it gave one envious gaze

Upon the fountain's height,
While glittering in the morning rays,

Pre-eminently bright.

In all the colors of the sky,

Alternately it shone :
The brook observed it with a sigh,

But quietly rolled on.
The owner of the fountain died ;

Neglect soon brought decay;

MAKING RESOLUTIONS.

21

The bursting pipes were ill supplied ;

The fountain ceased to play.
But still the brook its peaceful course

Continued to pursue ;
Her ample, inexhausted source,

From nature's fount she drew.

“Now,” said the brook, “ I bless my fate,

My showy rival gone;
Contented in its native state

My little stream rolls on.

" And all the world has cause, indeed,

To own, with grateful heart,
How much great nature's works excel

The feeble works of art.”

MORAL.
Humble usefulness is preferable to idle splendor.

MAKING RESOLUTIONS. NEVER form a resolution that is not a good one; and when once formed, never break it. If you form a resolution, and then break it, you set yourself a bad ex. ample, and you are very likely to follow it. A person may get the habit of breaking his resolutions; this is as bad to the character and mind, as an incurable disease to the body. No person can become great, but by keeping his resolutions; no person ever escaped contempt, who could not keep them. If any of my young friends resolve to read this book through, as proposed in the introduction, I hope they will not fail." to do so, unless they have good reasons for it.

THE WARRIOR WOLF.

A FABLE.

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A YOUNG wolf said aloud,

To the listening crowd, “ I may well of my father's great courage be proud ;

Wherever he came,

Flock, shepherd, or dame,
All trembled, and filed at the sound of his name.

Did any one spy

My papa coming by,-
Two hundred or more,-Oh! he made them all ily!

One day, by a blow,

He was conquered I know ;
But no wonder at last he should yield to a foe :

He yielded, poor fellow !

The conquering bellow
Resounds in my ears as my poor father's knell-Oh !"

1'0 MY COUSIN ANNE.

A fox then replied, .

While, leering aside,
He laughed at his folly and vaporing pride :

“My chattering youth,

Your nonsense; forsooth,
Is more like a funeral sermon than truth-

Let history tell

How your old father fell; And see if the narrative sounds as well.

Your folly surpasses

Of monkeys all classes ; The beasts which he frightenedor conquered, were asses;

Except a few sheep,

When the shepherd, asleep, The dog by his side for safety did keep.

Your father fell back,

Knocked down by a whack
From the very first bull that he dared to attack-

Away he'd have scoured,

But, soon overpowered, He lived like a thief, and he died like a coward.” .

TO MY COUSIN ANNE,
ON RECEIVING FROM HER A NETWORK PURSE MADE BY

HERSELF.
My gentle Anne, whom heretofore,
When I was young, and thou no more

Than plaything for a nurse,
I danced and fondled on my knee,
A kitten both in size and glee,

I thank thee for my purse.

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