(which would also afford matter for other divine songs). Here the
language and measures should be easy and flowing with cheerfulness,
and without the solemnities of religion, or the sacred names
of God and holy things; that children might find delight and profit
together.

This would be one effectual way to deliver them from the temptation
of loving and learning those idle, wanton or profane songs, which
give so early an ill taint to the fancy and memory, and become
the seeds of future vices.

_The Sluggard_.

1 'Tis the voice of the Sluggard. I heard him complain
"You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again!"
As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,
Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.

2 "A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;"
Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number:
And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands
Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.

3 I past by his garden, and saw the wild bryar
The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher:
The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags;
And his money still wasts, still he starves, or he begs.

4 I made him a visit, still hoping to find
He had took better care for improving his mind:
He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drinking,
But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

5 Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me,"
That man's but a picture of what I might be:
But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding:
Who taught me betimes to love working and reading!

_Innocent Play_.

1 Abroad in the meadows to see the young lambs,
Run sporting about by the side of their dams
With fleeces so clean, and so white;
Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage,
When they play all in love without anger or rage,
How much may we learn from the sight!

2 If we had been ducks, we might dabble in mud:
Or dogs, we might play till it ended in blood;
So foul, or so fierce are their natures.
But Thomas and William, and such pretty names,
Should be cleanly and harmless as doves, or as lambs,
Those lovely sweet innocent creatures.

3 Not a thing that we do, nor a word that we say,
Should injure another in jesting or play;
For he's still in earnest that's hurt.
How rude are the boys that throw pebbles and mire!
There's none but a mad-man will fling about fire,
And tell you, "`Tis all but in sport."

The End.

The TABLE.

1. A General Song of