T. GIBBONS.
CHILDHOOD.
A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure.
_Of Education_. M.F. TUPPER.
Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law,
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
_Essay on Man, Epistle II_. A. POPE.
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candlelight,
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
_Bed in Summer_. R.L. STEVENSON.
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.
_To a Butterfly_. W. WORDSWORTH.
When they are young, they
Are like bells rung backwards, nothing but noise
And giddiness.
_Wit without Money_. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
A truthful page is childhood's lovely face,
Whereon sweet Innocence has record made,--
An outward semblance of the young heart's grace,
Where truth, and love, and trust are all portrayed.
_On a Picture of Lillie_. B.P. SHILLABER.
And the King with his golden sceptre,
The Pope with Saint Peter's key,
Can never unlock the one little heart
That is opened only to me.
For I am the Lord of a Realm,
And I am Pope of a See;
Indeed I'm supreme in the kingdom
That is sitting, just now, on my knee.
_The King and The Pope_. C.H. WEBB.
Now I lay me down to take my sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep:
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
_New England Primer_.
And children know,
Instinctive taught, the friend and foe.
_Lady of the Lake, Canto II_. SIR W. SCOTT.
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.
_To a Butterfly_. W. WORDSWORTH.
Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water!
Ye happy mixtures of more happy days!
_Beppo_. LORD BYRON.
They are as gentle
As zephyrs blowing below the violet.
_Cymbeline, Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
Men are but children of a larger growth.
_All for Love, Act iv. Sc. 1_. J. DRYDEN.
The childhood shows the man
As morning shows the day.
_Paradise Regained, Bk. IV_. MILTON.
CHRISTMAS.
O most illustrious of the days of time!
Day full of joy and benison to earth
When Thou wast born, sweet Babe of Bethlehem!
With dazzling pomp descending angels sung
Good-will and peace to men, to God due praise.
_The Microcosm and Other Poems_. A. COLES.
Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel
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