y winds no longer blow,
Far away are frost and snow;
Peeping from its grassy bed,
The primrose rears its modest head;
And midst its leaves the violet blue,
Scents the air and morning dew.
Hark! the sky-lark, mounting high,
Carols in the clear blue sky;
The thrush and blackbird from the spray,
Chaunt their blithesome roundelay;
The little lambkins, safe from harm,
In their snow-white fleeces warm,
Gambol o'er the sunny mead,
And prove their strength, and try their speed:
From yon grassy knoll they spring,
And chase each other round the ring.

[Illustration: _to face pa. 23_

_Spring_]

To the farm-yard we will go,
Where they milk the hornless cow;
Mamma will give us wine and cake,
And a syllabub we'll make.
Charles and Jane shall hold the bowl,
And Margaretta milk it full:
Each shall join to help the others,
Like good sisters and good brothers.

SUMMER.

What does bounteous summer bring?
The lengthen'd day and shorten'd night;
Milder breezes softly blowing,
Warmer suns, and skies more bright.

Long and thick the grass is grown,
Ready for the mower's care,
When his scythe has laid it low,
To the hay-field we'll repair.

Each shall have a fork and rake,
To spread it widely to the sun:
Many hands together join'd,
Make the labour quickly done.

In the hedge, the woodbine twining,
Fills the air with sweet perfume;
The blushing rose, in gay profusion,
Joins its fragrance and its bloom.

In the mossy hedge-row peeps,
The strawberry with lowly head;
We can quickly fill our baskets,
With its berries rosy red.

Little Anna dearly loves
Strawb'ries red, and milk so white:
We will carry plenty home,
On them she can sup to-night.

[Illustration: _to face pa. 24_

_Summer_]

Anna loves to skip and play,
But she can also read and spell;
She learns with careful hand to sew,
And she deserves her supper well.

AUTUMN.

Autumn comes, her prospects glow
With yellow fields of waving corn;
The reaper with his sickle bright,
Hastes to work at early morn.

Whilst the morning breezes blow,
Through the burning sultry noon,
And till evening dews descend,
Still he works and labours on.

Let us seek the harvest field,