A CHILD'S SWEET DREAM OF HEAVEN.

WHAT know we of the glorious sights
Which bless an infant's dream?

Or, could we guess them, what more meet
To be a poet's theme?

The hope that e'en a glimpse of such

My numbers might make known, To fond imagination brings

A day-dream of its own.

'Tis of a child of five years old
Upon whose peaceful sleep
Fair visions of another world
With silent footsteps creep;
Soft as the dew on summer flowers,
Or moonlight on the sea,

The influence of that blissful dream
To fancy seems to be.

The cheek, upon the pillow pressed,
Wears joy's delightful tinge:
The eyes are closed, yet joy's bright tear
Steals through the eyelid's fringe;
The lips are voiceless yet they wear
The sweetest smile of bliss-

A smile so sweet, it well might chide
The fondest mother's kiss.

Thou happy sleeper! might I tell
Where now thy spirit roams,
The lot it shares, how poor would seem
The pomp of proudest domes!
Fame, wealth, or grandeur never yet
A pleasure could impart,

So pangless and so pure as those
Which now possess thy heart.

For thou art in "the land of thought!"

And far hast left behind

The fading happiness of earth,
For raptures more refined:

Thine seems a foretaste of the boon
Appointed for the blest;

"Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest!"

Thy spirit's yet unfolded bud

May seem too young to bear
The full effulgence of that light
Which bursts around thee there;
Thy "vital spark of heavenly flame"
May shine with trembling ray,
Amid the bright and sunless blaze
Of heaven's unclouded day.

Yet, in thy measure, Fancy deems
Thy soul may now partake
Those glories which the harps and songs
Of angels ever wake;

And to thy sight, unconsciously,
Are transient glimpses given,
Whose bright beatitudes fulfil
A child's sweet dream of heaven!

And is it not a lovely scene

That greets thy vision now-
Where gratitude warms every breast,
And joy lights every brow-
Where tears are wiped from every eye,

And sickness comes not near,

And hope in certainty fulfilled

Has banished every fear?

What seest thou in that realm sublime?
The spirits of the just,

Made perfect through the blood of Him
In whom they placed their trust?
The tuneful seraph host, that raise
Their songs around the throne,
Giving to God and to the Lamb
The praise that is their own?

Or look'st thou on the tree of life
Whose foliage yet may heal
The nations, and the earlier curse
Of Eden's tree repeal?

Or gazest thou upon that stream,
Like clearest crystal bright,
Proceeding from Jehovah's throne,
And glorious from his light?

Vain though it seem to ask or think
What sights and sounds divine
May rise in slumber's tranquil hour
On spirits pure as thine;

Not wholly so, if, while he sings,
Within the minstrel's soul

The influence of such heavenly themes,
May earth-born cares control.

Sleep, happy dreamer! sleep in peace,
And may thy mental powers

By visions such as these be nursed

For future waking hours;

That so, from death's last dreamless sleep,

Thy spirit may ascend,

To know the fulness of all joy,

In glory without end!

A POSTSCRIPT.

"No child," some critic may perchance exclaim,

"Would dream like this; or dream of heaven at all!"

And how knowest thou despite thy critic fame,

What heavenly dreams on childhood's slumbers fall?

One wiser far than thou, who cannot err

In aught of heaven or heavenly things disclosed,
Of guileless hearts the best interpreter,

Hath said-Of such that kingdom is composed!
Unlearn thy worldly wisdom; be no more
By self-conceit presumptuously beguiled;
But rather study that sweet, lowlier lore,
Which makes its learner as a little child!

BERNARD BARTON.

These young folks are

Puss is a great favourite. playing with the kitten, now four months old. They have got a ball of worsted, which they roll on the carpet before her, and as she squats down and watches it and springs to catch it in her claws, they draw away the ball and cheat her of her prey. This is nice amusement for them, and many a hearty laugh had George and William at kitten's expense when they succeeded in pulling away the ball.

Puss is a very clean creature, and her quiet and domesticated look as she sits by the warm fireside adds very much to the comfortable appearance of many of our cottages.

Many curious instances of attachment to places and persons have been recorded of the cat. But cats are not always to be trusted. Some are very vicious, and as, like dogs, they are subject to that dreadful malady called hydrophobia, young people should be very careful not to provoke them to bite.

Neither

should they ever allow a cat or a dog to lick their hands, for if there should be a sore place on them, the disease might thus be given to them. We have heard of a young man in the west of England, who,

having chopped hands, allowed a dog to lick them, and he died in consequence of that dreadful disorder.

Cats are very fond of fish. Dr. Johnson had a favourite cat which he fed on oysters. To make sure that she had them, he would purchase them himself, and bring them home in his pocket!

They are also sad enemies to birds, and will sit for hours watching for an opportunity of springing upon their prey. The other day a cat of ours caught a poor sparrow, which she disabled, and brought into the yard leading into the garden. She laid it down and retired a few paces, crouching down and watching it; and when the poor bird attempted to move, she sprang upon it. We saw her through the kitchen window, and having observed her a short time, went out and put an end to her cruel sport.

Sometimes cats have been know to attack larger birds, such as domestic fowls. We have heard of a cat in a neighbouring town that would frequently go out on its marauding expeditions, and often bring home a fowl, and laying it down on the floor of the house, walk aside, and looking up at mistress, seem as if it said, "There, take that, and cook it for your dinner!" Was not she a thief?

Many more tales might be told of the tricks of puss, of which we may give some instances another time.

BRAVE BOBBY.

SOME years ago, an American ship, called the Washington, bound for China, had on board, among other passengers, an officer with his wife and child, a little boy five years old, and a large Newfoundland dog called Bobby.

Everybody in the ship liked Bobby, he was so good-tempered and frolicsome, but the little boy was