Arson no more shall distress you,
Rick-burning never offend;
And your Creator shall bless you,
If you will seek this good end.
But, to these frolicsome lasses,

And to brave Old Farmer Gay,
Back now my blithe ditty passes—
Charmed by his proffer were they.
Match them all six with Spring's blossoms?
Wit never compassed such feat:
Well might it flutter their bosoms,
Hope of such compliment sweet.

"You, then, my own bonny Alice,

Child of my own child, most dear,

Full of right innocent malice,

Glancing than sunlight more clear, Laughing at all your sad lovers, Counting derision man's due, Buttercup golden discovers

Nearest resemblance to you.

"Flaunts it so brightly and gaily,

While every bee on the wing
Hums round it hourly and daily,

All through the summer and spring.
Say not with sweetness it's fraught not―
Honey alone tempts the bee;
But my own Alice, she ought not
Buttercup, flaunting, to be.

"Then comes the young, timid Mabel, Cowering away from men's eyes; But let the youth who is able

Stoop for, and treasure, the prize! Thus might some violet, shrinking, Hide 'midst the moss at our feet:

Rough hand might crush, though, I'm thinking, Spite of its coyness discreet.

66

'Mabel, all need self-reliance

In such a rude world as ours ;

Sin must be set at defiance;

Thorns should encompass the flowers.

Then, though timidity, lowly,

Shrink from the rough world's keen breath,

Faith yields a confidence holy,

Guardian through life, and in death.

"Next in the circle stands Fanny,

Heartsease will suit the maid best

Cowslip must answer for Annie,

;

Sweet, and yet never quite blessed!
One can, by teasing, drive frantic,
Merriment ever at call;

This is a maiden romantic,
Sighing for nothing at all.

"Heartsease, with bright blue and yellow,
Tempts every gazer to smile;
Take heed some saucy young fellow

Don't rob the maid's ease the while.

Cowslip finds breezes alarming,

Hangs down its head, shuns all strife Sentiment's doubtless most charming— Something more's needed for life.

"Now comes my Susan, the daisy;
Brighter some blossoms may blow,
Liker to make a man crazy—
Worthier, none do I know.

She, not alone when joy's shining,
But all the four seasons through,
Will, if you'll trust my divining,
Comfort and cheer the heart too.

"Last comes the Rose of all roses;
Nothing to her need I say;
Autumn the lesson discloses,
Roses must all pass away.
Oh, let her harbour such sweetness
Deep in each bud's inmost hold,

That the stern years in their fleetness
Never may make her heart old!

;

"Thus have I preached you my sermonWhether I've well or ill said,

That let your conscience determine―
God's blessing light on each head !"
Thus spoke the old merry farmer—
Fanny, just now, in the glen,

Swore, if he'd try, he could charm her,

Spite of his three-score and ten !

"Ah, such a sermon,

I'm certain,

Rector nor bishop would preach ; Some of us caught it for flirtingHe had a sly hit for each." Country folk relish such sallies;

Pleased was each damsel and dame ; Famous through all our green valleys Farmer Gay's Sermon became.

R

COMPENSATION.

THERE'S an honest joy in labour
Which repays a manly soul.
Let the Frenchman shake his tabour,
Let the child his rattle roll;

Let the murmurs swell of faction!

True men smile at those and these ; They, who felt the joy of action, Rarely pine for wanton ease.

True, man's not a force mechanic ; You may overwork the frame : "Tis a work of works Satanic,

Ceaseless toil, that ends in shame.
When men's jaded spirit plunges
For refreshment in sin's fire;
And abuse each faint trace spunges
Out of thoughts that should aspire !

But the curse becomes a blessing,
Where extremes toil's children shun:
Nought's so sweet in the possessing
As what earnest work has won !
Therefore let who will go muttering
"He's a slave that counsels peace,"
I'll not shrink free truth from uttering;
Ne'er may ranks or classes cease!