THE WEATHER SPRITES.

he Weather Sprites in slumber lie, 'Tis plain as plain can be, For clouds have hidden all the sky— A mist is on the sea, They laid the brooms of wind away Before the day was done, And left a curtain, dull and grey, To hide the setting sun. 'Wake, Weather Sprites! oh, wake again! You slumber all too soon, And, look you, drawn by imps of rain A ring is round the moon. With all your might rub out the ring, Mop all this rain away, For such a night can only bring An even duller day.'

Then through the darkness, ere I slept, I heard them passing by; Across the roof their brushes swept, Then cleared the misty sky. They mopped away with all their might, And dried the garden soon; While busy dusters rubbed from sight The ring around the moon. And as I throw the shutter wide, And look out at the dawn, The garden paths are neatly dried, And all the clouds are gone. But hark, where in the morning light Yon chestnut lifts its dome, I hear the last, last Weather Sprite Dragging her broomstick home.