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BLOWY breezy March brings Spring,
Summer comes with leafy June,
September fruit, October grain,
Spring, Summer, Autumn, all are past;
January's ice will sparkle,
Then good-by frost, and snow and rain,
How doth the little busy bee
How skilfully she builds her cell,
How neat she spreads her wax, And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes.
In works of labour or of skill
In books, or work, or healthful play,
The oceans number five:
Two lie around the poles;
A third, th' Atlantic rolls.
The Indian ocean next,
A fourth is said to be;
THE ENGLISH GIRL.
SPORTING On the village green,
Now within her humble door, Sweeping clean her kitchen floor; While upon the wall so white, Hang her coppers, polished bright.
Mary never idle sits;
She either sews, or spins, or knits; Hard she labours all the week, With sparkling eye and rosy cheek.
And on Sunday Mary goes,
Oh, how good should we be found,
I saw a snowdrop on the bed,
The wintry wind came sweeping o'er,
I saw a smiling infant laid
In its fond mother's arms : Around its rosy cheeks there played A thousand dimpling charms.