Page:Poems For Our Children (1830).djvu/16

 Up in the morning early,

And we will bound abroad,

And fill our hearts with melody,

And raise our songs to God.

The mole is blind, and under ground,

Snug as a nest her home is found;

She dwells secure, nor dreams of sight—

What need of eyes where all is night!

The eagle proudly soars on high,

Bright as the sunbeams is his eye—

To lofty rocks he wings his way,

And sits amid the blaze of day.

The mole needs not the eagle's eye,

Unless she had his wings to fly—

The light of day no joy would give,

If under ground she still must live.