THE BEAUTIES OF SUMMER.

The summer! the summer! the exquisite time
Of the red rose's blush and the nightingale's chime;
The chant of the lark, and the boom of the bee,-
The season of brightness, and beauty, and glee!
It is here! it is here! it is lighting again,

With sun-braided smiles, the deep heart of the glen;
It is touching the mountain and tinging the hill,
And dimpling the face of the low-laughing rill;
It is flooding the forest-trees richly with bloom,
And flinging gold showers in the lap of the broom!
I have heard the lark warble his hymn in the sky,
I have seen the dew-tear in the meek daisy's eye;
I have scented the breath of the fresh open'd flowers,
I have plucked a rich garland from bright hawthorn
bowers;

My footsteps have been where the violet sleeps,

And where arches of eglantine hang from the steeps;
I have startled the linnet from thickets of shade,
And roused the fleet stag as he basked in the glade;
And my spirit is blithe—as a rivulet clear,
For the summer, the golden crown'd summer is here!

9.-HARVEST HYMN.

Now Autumn strews on every plain
His mellow fruits and fertile grain;
And laughing Plenty, crown'd with sheaves,
With purple grapes, and spreading leaves,

In rich profusion pours around
Her flowing treasures on the ground.
Oh! mark the great, the liberal hand,
That scatters blessings o'er the land;
And to the God of nature raise
The grateful song, the hymn of praise.

The infant corn, in vernal hours,
He nurtured with his gentle showers;
And bade the Summer clouds diffuse
Their balmy store of genial dews.
He mark'd the tender stem arise,
Till ripen'd by the glowing skies;
And now, matured, his work behold,-
The cheering harvest waves in gold!
To nature's God with joy we raise
The grateful song, the hymn of praise.

The valleys echo to the strains

Of blooming maids and village swains—
To Him they tune the lay sincere,
Whose bounty crowns the smiling year.
The sounds from every woodland borne,
The sighing winds that bend the corn,
The yellow fields around proclaim
His mighty, everlasting name!
To nature's God united raise

The grateful song, the hymn of praise.

Hemans.

WINTER SONG.

How deep a sleep hath bound thee!
A snowy shroud is round thee,

O Earth, our mother fair!

Where now are Spring's gay flowers,

And Summer's golden hours,

And those green robes thou once didst wear?

How tranquil are thy slumbers!
No shepherd's tuneful numbers
By vale or stream resound.
Sweet Summer songs are over;
The swallow--joyous rover-

In all our fields no more is found.

A Father's hand hath dressed thee
In wintry robes; so rest thee

Beneath his watchful sight:
Thy wintry slumbers breaking,
We soon shall see thee waking
In radiant robes of lovely light.

SONG FOR ALL SEASONS.

'Tis sweet to walk the fields of Spring,
When first the feathered warblers sing;
When, peeping forth 'mid youthful green,
The modest violets are seen.

Sweet is the breath of Summer morn,
And sweet the sight of golden corn;
And sweet, at evening's closing hour,
The balmy breeze, the fragrant flower.

'Tis sweet, when harvest glories shine,
When glowing clusters load the vine,
When bows the heavy tree, and pours
In Autumn's lap its juicy stores.

'Tis sweet, ay, sweet when Winter's blast
O'er Autumn's fruitful fields hath passed;
Earth folds her snowy mantle round,
And lies in wintry slumbers bound.

To every season, then, we sing,-
Sweet Summer time, and sparkling Spring,
And Autumn rich, and Winter drear:
To grateful hearts they all are dear.

10.-FRUITS AND SEEDS.

FRUITS.

WHEN a flower fades and falls, there is a round thick part left on the end of the flower-stem, which holds the seeds of the flower. In many plants this is only large enough to hold the seeds, but in others—as in the case of the currant, the gooseberry, the pear, the apple, the orange-it continues to grow, and becomes filled with a juicy pulp, which soon forms into what we call fruit.

When the little flower of the currant falls, it leaves behind on the stem a small round berry. This, as it ripens,

becomes red, white, or black, according to the kind of currant-bush on which it grows. The currant, the gooseberry, the grape, the apple, and most other fruits, have their seeds inside, but the strawberry has its seeds on the outside.

The fruits of some low-growing plants are very large, as the gourd and the melon, so abundant in warm countries; while the fruits of many large trees are very small, as is the case with the walnut and the chestnut. Some of the trees, however, in warm climates, bear very large fruit, as in the case of the cocoa-nut.

The fruits of the earth that are most largely used by man are in the form of seeds; for example, grain, rice, pease, and beans, are all seeds.

Flowers are for beauty, and fruits for use. Our heavenly Father has thus made beauty to go along with what is useful. He smiles upon us in the flowers, but in the fruits he blesses us with his bounty. The flowers are a feast to our eyes, and the fruits are food for our bodies. How endless in their variety are the pleasant things which God has scattered in this world around us; and yet how strange it is that we can know all this, and live on day after day without gratitude to him for his goodness!

SEEDS.

Most plants are raised from seeds; and yet, though this is one of the most wonderful things in nature, few people ever think of it. Gardeners and farmers put seeds into the ground, and they see the plants come up from them; they see also the plants grow and blossom, and after a time they gather the fruit; and yet they never think