Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I, at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company.

I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills

And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth.

THE BLIND BOY'S PICTURE BOOK.

There was once a little boy who was blind from the very day of his birth. He used to look about him in vain for the gay birds and the beautiful flowers of which his mother told him; to him it was always night.

But one day he had a wonderful dream. He saw an angel hover softly into his chamber, and draw near his bed, saying kindly, "I have here a beautiful picture book which I show to good children in the night-time when they are sleeping. Would you like to see it, too?”

"Ah, dear angel," answered the little boy, weeping, "you have surely made a mistake. I am just a poor blind boy, who cannot see anything at all, not even your beautiful pictures."

But the angel dried his tears, and said, "Indeed, you can see them just as plainly as you see me; and it is for this very reason that I come especially to the blind children, so that they may see in their dreams all the things of which they have heard but have never seen."

So saying, the angel sat down by the little bed,

opened a large, wonderful book, and began to show him the pictures. The blind child laughed for joy, for he could see it all so clearly. There were the very flowers and the birds about which his mother had told him so often, only in the book they were far more beautiful than he had ever imagined them.

The kind angel told him, also, the most wonderful stories, but before the book was half finished, she arose and said, "Now I must return to Heaven, for it will soon be morning, but to-morrow night I will come again and you shall see the rest of the book." Then she disappeared, and about the blind child it was night as before.

Next morning, when his mother came to him, the boy told her about the angel with the wonderful picture book. But she only looked at him sadly, and answered, "You are ill, my poor little one, and to-day you must rest in bed." And the child was quite willing to do so, for he felt strangely tired. He lay very quietly, but many times he laughed aloud to himself when he thought of the angel's promise, and waited eagerly for the evening.

In the night the angel came again; but the

mother, watching at her child's bedside, could not see her. She did not hear the wonderful stories, but only listened to the short breathings of the boy.

When the blind child had seen the last picture, he said, entreatingly, “Oh, dear angel, you will come back again soon and show me more of your beautiful pictures? Or have you only this one picture book?" “I have many others," answered the angel," and far, far more beautiful than this one. I would gladly show them all to you, but they are in Heaven, and I dare not bring them with me to the earth. will come with me you shall see them."

If you

"I will go gladly," said the little boy; "but I must first ask my mother and tell her where I am going. Come once again to-morrow evening and take me away with you." So the angel promised.

As soon as the child awoke, he asked his mother if he might go to Heaven to see all the wonderful picture books which the angel had told him were there. To his surprise, his mother wept bitterly and utterly refused at first to let him go away from her. But he begged so hard that she finally consented.

When it was night once more, the angel came for the third time, and seemed even kinder and lovelier than before. She kissed the little boy on both his eyelids, and said, softly, "Now look at your dear mother and say farewell to her."

The blind child looked up, recognized his mother whom he had never seen, and smiled lovingly at her. Then the angel took him in her arms, and flew away with him into the sunrise.

- From the German of M. Meissner.

THE LOVE of God.

"Like a cradle rocking, rocking,

Silent, peaceful, to and fro;

Like a mother's sweet looks dropping

On the little face below,

Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning,
Jarless, noiseless, safe and slow

Falls the light of God's face bending

Down and watching us below."

-Selected.