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I love the sun, the gentle wind,
And bird, and flower, and bud,
And well I love my teacher kind,
But best I love my God.
SUMMER MORNING.
How beautiful the morning,
When summer days are long;
O, we will rise betimes and hear
The wild-bird's happy song—
For when the sun pours down his ray
The bird will cease to sing;
She 'll seek the cool and silent shade,
And sit with folded wing.
Up in the morning early—
'T is Nature's gayest hour!
There 's pearls of dew upon the grass
And fragrance on the flower.—
