Songs of the Seasons for My Children. By Thomas Miller.
Illustrated. (William Tegg.)—Very pretty songs, very prettily illustrated. It is not often children have such really pleasant linos written for them as many of these. For example :—
"In that same pool another scene Will fleck with light those shadows green, When the sheep-washers gather there ; And many a bleating sound you'll hear As in the water they are roll'd, Then dripping, left to find the fold. The little lambs all standing nigh, Look on with a strange wondering eye, And say, perhaps, to one another, Why, they've half drown'd my poor old mother !'
What a sweet smell floats every way Upon the air, of new-mown hay ; The high-piled waggons pass the lane, Are emptied and sent back again. The horses of their own accord Go plashing through the shallow ford; And the dear children placed inside, Delighted, through the water ride. And in the field they run and shout, And tumble all the hay about;
And as they bury one another, Some little fellow they half smother. And then there is a fine to do, To coax, and kiss, and bring him to."
Mr. Miller is not quite careful enough, however, in his flower pictures. He likens "the tall foxglove's upconed spire " to "a pillar all on fire." The foxglove's colour is never at all like the colour of fire. Nor do we see why "The sweet woodbine red and white Looks like a lady in the light"
The songs are very pretty, simple, and unaffected, though there is now and then a want of accuracy in the natural descriptions.
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