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SONGS FOE THE NURSERY.
Brown eyes, straight nose; Dirt pies, rumpled clothes.
Torn books, spoilt toys ; Arch looks, unlike a boy's;
Little rages, obvious arts; (Three her age is), cakes, tarts;
Falling down off chairs ; Breaking crown down-stairs;
Catching flies on the pane; Deep sighs, cause not plain ;
Bribing you with kisses For a few farthing blisses.
Wide-awake, as you hear, " Mercy's sake, quiet, dear!"
New shoes, new frock ;
Vague views of what's o'clock,
When it's time to go to bed, And scorn stiblime for what's said.
Folded hands, saying prayers; Understands not, nor cares;
Thinks it odd; smiles away; Yet may God hear her pray!
Bed-gown white ; kiss dolly ; Good-night! that's Polly.
Fast asleep, as you see; Heaven keep my girl for me!
THE LITTLE BOY AND THE STARS.
Aunt Effie's Rhymes.
You little twinkling stars that shine
Above my head so high, If I had but a pair of wings
I'd join you in the sky.
I am not happy lying here, With neither book nor toy,
For I am sent to bed because I've been a naughty boy.
If you will listen, little stars,
I'll tell you all I did: I only said I would not do
The thing that I was bid!
I'm six years old this very day, And I can write and read ;
And not to have my own way yet Is very hard, indeed.