Her face is like the May time,
  Her voice is like the bird’s;
The sweetest of all music
  Is in her lightsome words.

Each spot she makes the brighter,
  As if she were the sun;
And she is sought and cherished
  And loved by everyone;

By old folks and by children,
  By loft and by low;
Who is this little maiden? 
  Does anybody know?

You surely must have met her. 
  You certainly can guess;
What!  I must introduce her? 
  Her name is Cheeerfulness. 
                              Marian Douglas
]

LESSON LXXI.

west’ern breathe dy’ing moon babe sails

Lullaby.

1.  Sweet and low, sweet and low,
     Wind of the western sea,
   Low, low, breathe and blow,
     Wind of the western sea! 
   Over the rolling waters go,
   Come from the dying moon, and blow,
     Blow him again to me;
   While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps.

2.  Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
     Father will come to thee soon;
   Rest, rest, on mother’s breast,
     Father will come to thee soon;
   Father will come to his babe in the nest,
   Silver sails all out of the west,
     Under the silver moon;
   Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.

Tennyson.