THE SCISSORS.
(Recitation for little girls, holding scissors that "snip" at the proper time.)
We're a jolly pair of twins,
And we always work together.
We are always bright and sharp,
However dull the weather.
Whenever little Maidie
Takes her work-box in her lap.
We are always up and ready
With our “Snip, snip, snap!”
We cut the pretty patches
To piece the pretty quilt;
Each square the next one matches,
Their posies never wilt;
We trim the edges neatly.
With never a mishap.
And what music sounds so sweetly
As our “Snip, snip, snap!”
We cut the dolly's mantle;
We shape the dolly's dress.
Oh, half the clever things we do
You'd never, never guess!
For food or sleep or playtime
We do not care a rap.
But are ready night and daytime.
With our “Snip, snip, snap!”
Snip, snip, snap,
Snip, snip, snap,
We are always up and ready
With our “Snip, snip, snap!”
TRUE NOBILITY.
What is noble? To inherit
Wealth, estate, and proud degree?
There must be some other merit
Higher yet than these for me.
Something greater far must enter
Into life's majestic span.
Fitted to create and center
True nobility in man.
What is noble? 'Tis the finer
Portion of our mind and heart.
Linked to something still diviner
Than mere language can impart;
Ever prompting, ever seeing
Some improvement yet to plan;
To uplift our fellow-being.
And, like man, to feel for man.
What is noble? Is the saber
Nobler than the humble spade?
There's a dignity in labor.
Truer than e'er pomp arrayed!
He who seek's the mind's improvement,
Aids the world in aiding mind;
Every great commanding movement
Serves not one, but all mankind.
O'er the forge's heat and ashes,
O'er the engine's iron head.
Where the rapid shuttle flashes.
And the spindle whirls its thread.
There is labor lowly tending
Each requirement of the hour;
There is genius still extending
Science and its world of power.
Mid the dust and speed and clamor
Of the loom-shed and the mill;
Midst the clink of wheel and hammer,
Great results are growing still.
Though, too oft, by Fashion's creatures,
Work and workers may be blamed,
Commerce need not hide its features,
Industry is not ashamed.
What is noble? That which places
Truth in its enfranchised will;
Leaving steps like angel traces.
That mankind may follow still.
E'en though Scorn's malignant glances
Prove him poorest of his clan,
He's the noble who advances
Freedom and the cause of man!
