ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
283 
CALLING THEM UP. 
^ Q HALL I go and call them up,— 
O Snowdrop, daisy, buttercup ? ” 
Lisped the rain ; “they’ve had a pleasant winter’s nap.” 
Lightly to their doors it crept, 
Listened while they soundly slept; 
Gently woke them with its rap-a-tap-a-tap ! 
Quickly woke them with rap a-tap-a-tap ! 
Soon their windows opened wide,— 
Every thing astir inside ; 
Shining heads came peeping out, in frill and cap; 
“ It was kind of you, dear rain,” 
Laughed they all, ‘‘to come again ; 
We were waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap ! 
Only waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap ! ” 
George Cooper. 
THE OLIVE TREE. 
T HE palm — the vine — the cedar — each hath power 
To bid fair Oriental shapes glance by ; 
And each quick glistening of the laurel bower 
Wafts Grecian images o'er fancy’s eye. 
But thou, pale olive ! in thy branches lie 
Far deeper spells than prophet grove of old 
Might e’er enshrine : I could not hear thee sigh 
To the wind’s faintest whisper, nor behold 
One shiver of thy leaves’ dim, silvery green, 
Without high thoughts and solemn of that scene 
When, in the garden, the Redeemer prayed,— 
When pale stars looked upon His fainting head, 
And angels, ministering in silent dread, 
Trembled, perchance, within thy trembling shade. 
Mrs. Hemans. 
Spirits of fire, that brood not long, 
But flash resentment back for wrong ; 
And hearts, where, slow but deep, the seeds 
Of vengeance ripen into deeds ; 
Till, in some treacherous hour of calm, 
They burst, like Zeilan’s giant palm, 
Whose buds fly open with a sound 
That shakes the pigmy forests round ! 
Moore’s Lalla Rookh. 
