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With my breath so keen and chilling,
I have stripped the branches bare;
And my snow-flakes white are filling,
Feather-like, the frosty air.
Coming o'er the lofty mountains,
There I left a robe of white;
I have locked the sparkling fountains,
I have chained the river bright.
O'er the quiet valley winging,
There I left my traces, too;
Hark! the merry sleigh-bells ringing,
With their music call on you.
I have come! The school-boy shouting,
Joyfully brings out his sled;
He has seen me, nothing doubting,
As across the fields he sped.
I have come; but shall I find you
Better than the former year?
If you've cast your faults behind you,
I shall gladly greet you here.
[Illustration]
"GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD."
[Illustration: Letter G.]
Give us this day our daily bread;
Oh! children, when you pray,
And morn and night repeat these words,
Think what it is you say.
You never asked a piece of bread,
And had that wish denied;
For food to eat, and some to spare,
Has always been supplied.
But o'er the ocean, many a cheek
With want grows thin and pale;
And many suffer like the boy
Of whom I tell this tale.
He lay upon some scattered straw,--
His strength was almost gone,--
And, in a feeble voice, he cried,
"Give me three grains of corn!"
Three grains from out his jacket torn,
His trembling mother drew,
'Twas all she had--she gave them him,
Though she was starving too!
Be very grateful, children, then,
For all that you enjoy;
Remembering, as you say those words,
The little Irish boy.
[Illustration]