THE MUSIC-LESSON.

A thrush alit on a young-leaved spray,

And, lightly clinging,

It rocked in its singing

As the rapturous notes rose loud and gay;

And with liquid shakes,

And trills and breaks,

Rippled through blossoming boughs of May.

Like a ball of fluff, with a warm brown throat

And throbbing bosom,

‘ Mid the apple-blossom,

The new-fledged nestling sat learning by rote

To echo the song

So tender and strong,

As it feebly put in its frail little note.

O blissfullest lesson amid the green grove!

The low wind crispeth

The leaves, where lispeth

The shy little bird with its parent above;

Two voices that mingle

And make but a single

Hymn of rejoicing in praise of their love.