• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Preface
 Table of Contents
 Main
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine














Group Title: children's poetry book
Title: The children's poetry book
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00015744/00001
 Material Information
Title: The children's poetry book being a selection of narrative poetry for the young
Physical Description: viii, 432 p., <15> leaves of plates : ill., (some col.) ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dalziel, Thomas Bolton Gilchrist Septimus, 1823-1906 ( Illustrator )
Dalziel Brothers
George Routledge and Sons ( Publisher )
Camden Press ( Printer )
Publisher: George Routledge and Sons
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Camden Press
Publication Date: 1868
Copyright Date: 1868
 Subjects
Subject: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1868   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1868
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: with seventy illustrations by Thomas Dalziel ; engraved by the brothers Dalziel.
General Note: "Dalziel Brothers, Engravers & Printers"--T.p. verso.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00015744
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA8275
notis - ALG4329
oclc - 13603474
alephbibnum - 002224070

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter 1
        Front Matter 2
        Front Matter 3
    Frontispiece
        Page 6
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
    Preface
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
    Main
        Page 1
        Page 2
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    Spine
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Full Text









































































































































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THE


CHILDREN'S


POETRY BOOK.



BEING

A Selection of Narrative Poetry
FOR THE YOUNG.



WITH SEVENTY ILLUSTRATIONS BY THOMAS DALZIEL,
ENGRAKED Br THE BROTHERS DALZIEL.



LONDON:
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
1868.












"Should be in every household blessed by children."


Companion Volume to THE CHILDREN'S POETRY BOOK.
Three Shillings and Sixpence,

OUT OF THE HEART:
Spoken to the Little Ones, by HANS C. ANDERSEN.
With Seventy Engravings by the Brothers Dalziel.


'Out of the Heart,' with its forty-one stories and seventy engravings-k
about a dozen of them full-page pictures charmingly designed and printed in
gorgeous colours-bound in blue and gold, is one of the most delightful little
books imaginable for children."-Pall Mall Gazette.











PREFACE.

-4--

IN preparing this little Book of Poetry for the
Young, no attempt has been made at classification,
the desire being to give variety of subject throughout
the volume. The selections are nearly all narrative in
character, such being thought most likely to interest
children. It is hoped the readers of this work may
not only be entertained, but may have awakened in
them a true love of poetry.
To the Authors and Publishers who have kindly
allowed their copyright poems to be printed in this
volume, the best thanks of the Editor are offered for
such permission, and for the courteous and ready
manner in which it has been granted.















CONTENTS.





Author Page
About Ben Adhem and the Angel ....................... LEIGH HNT 89
A-Hunting we will go ...................................... .... FIELDING- 397
Alice Fell ................................................... WORDSWOTH 231
Allen-a-Dale ................................................................ SCOTT 290
Angels' Whisper, The ...................................... SAMUEL LOVER 426
Ant, The. Industry .................... ................... ............. WATTS 190
A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea .............. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM 338
Baby Brigade, The........................................................ L. W. T. 381
Baby May M ........ .................................. .......... BENNETT 9
Baby's Shoes ............... ........................... ...... BENNETT 234
Bannockburn ....... ..................... ..... ... .... BURNS 245
Battle of Blenheim ..................................................... SOUTHEY 67
ayo Bjcay ........................................................... CHERRY 412
Bears and Bees, The .................................................. MERRICK 218
Beauftes in Nat ure ..................................................... STENSON 175
Beggar, The...... ........................... ..................... ... M oss 242
B fSEpMan, The ................................................. LUC AIIN 417
Best Prayer, The .................................................... COLERIDGE 432
Bettf-Land, The ... ........................................... MRS. HEMANS 177
Black-eyed Susan .............................. ............... GAY 310
Blind Beggar's Daughter of Bethnal Green ......... OLD BALLAD 193
Blind Boy and his Sister, The............................. MARY HOWITT 264
Blind Child, The ............................................. BLOOMFIELD 173
Blow, blow, thou Winter Wind ........................... SHAKESPEARE 396
Boys' Play and Girls' Play ............................. MRS. HAWTREY 286
Burial of Sir John Moore .......................................... WOLE 149
Busy Bee ..................................................................... W ATTS 172
Casabanca ................. ................................... M HEMANS 253
Chameleon, The........................................................... MERRICK 362
Character of a Happy Life ...................... SIR HENRY WOTTON 431
Charge of the Light Brigade ................................... TENNYSON 151
Children, The................................................. MARY HOWITT 1
Children in the Wood, The ................................. OLD BALLAD 164







vi Contents.


Author Page
Chinese Pig, The.................................. AUNT EFIE' RHYME 342
Chorus of Fros .................... .............. AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 241
Contented Blind Boy .... ............................G.IBBER 220
Contented John ..................... ...................... JANE TAYLOR 312
Corn-fields o ............. ..................................... MARY HoWITT 96
Cottager's Domestic Hearth................................. KIRKE WHITE 148
Cradle Song........................................................ BENNETT 208
Crippled Jane ............................................ HON. MRS. NORTON 249
Daisy, The ......... .. ................. JAMES MONTGOMERY 186
Dame Duck's First Lecture on Education. AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 222
Death of Cock Robin and Jenny Wren .................... GERDA FAY 127
Death of Master Tommy Rook ................................ ELIZA COOK 73
Death of Nelson ........ o .................................................... ARNOLD 75
Deformed Child. The ............. .................. DORA GREENWELL 320
Destruction of Sennacherib ............................... .... BYRON 217
Dirty Jack............................ ........................... JANE TAYLOR 370
Dying Child, The ........................................ DORA GREENWELL 35
English Girl, The ....... o ................ .............. JANE TAYLOR 235
Exile of Erin, The................................................... CAMPBELL 372
Fairies of the Caldon-Low .. .......................... MARY HOWITT 22
Fairy's Song, The ........................ ....... SHAKESPEARE 157
Father William ................................................... SOUTHEY 211
Four-leaved Shamrock, The ................. ............... LOVER 408
Freddie and the Cherry Tree .......... AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 130
Friar of Orders Grey ............................................... PERCY 391
Gaffer Gray ......... .................................. THOMAS OLCROFT 883
Gardener's Grandchild, The............................. MRS. HAWTREY 389
God spare my Boy at Sea............................ ..... BENNETT 181
Good-bye......... THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN" 299
Good-natured Girls, The...................................... JANE TAYLOR 385
Goody Blake and Harry Gill .....................-.. .... WORDSWORTH 27
Grandpapa ... THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN" 402
Graves of a Household ....................................... MRS. HEMANS 213
Grecian Fable, A ............................................................. ....... 339
Happy Miller, The ...............T................... ...... TOM HOOD 367
Haunted Spring....................................... ..... LOVER 70
Hohenlinden..................... ................ ........- CAMPBELL 179
Homes of England............................ -MRS. HEMANS 85
Homeward Bound ....................................WILLIAM ALLINGHAM 405
Idle Shepherd Boys, The.......................... ..... WORDSWORTH 258
Inchcape Rock .............. ................................... SOUTHEY 81
Industry...... ......................... .......... GAY 209







Contents. vii


Author Page
John Barleycorn .......................................................... B NS 316
Jovial Beggars, The.................................................. PLAYFORD 386
John Gilpin .................................................................. COWPER 272
King and the Countryman, The ............................. .......... 414
Kittens and the Viper, The....... .................... ......... COWPER 351
Lamb, The............... ............................................... BLAKE 257
Last of the Flock ............................................... WORDSWORTH 17
Lent Jewels, The........... ..... ............... .............. TRENCH 185
Little Girl's Lament ................................... DORA GREENWELL 12
Little Lamb, The ....................................... FROM THE GERMAN 365
Little Sister, The ...................................... DORA GREENWELL 43
Llewellyn and his Dog ....................................... SOUTHEY 357
Lochinvar ............................................................... SCOTT 117
Lodgingsfor Single Gentlemen...GEORGE COLMAN THE YOUNGER 377
Lord Bateman ...... ......... ....................... OLD BALLAD 420
Lord of Holabois ..................................................... TOM HOOD 292
Lord Ullin's Daughter ....................................... CAMPBELL 237
Lord William and Edmund ....................................... SOUTHEY 141
Loss of the Royal George........................................................... COWPER 318
Lost in the Snow ............................................................. ScoTT 330
Lost Little One, The........................................... ANONMOUS 314
Lucy Gray............................................................ W ORDSWORTH 6
May Queen,, The..................................................... TENNYSON 103 $
Minstrel-Boy, The ........................................ THOMAS MOORE 416 &
Minute Gun, The ..................... ................................. SHRPE 407
Mouse and the Cake, The .............................. ELIZA COOK 255
My Jessie .............................. ....... AMELIA B. EDWARDS 427
Old Arm-Chair, The................ ................................ ELIZA CooK 429 Z
Old Christmas ................................................. MARY HOWITT 159
Old Dobbin ............................. ............. ELIZA COOK 121
Old Kitchen Clock, The ....................... AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 296
Old Soldier, The ................ ............... JOANNA BAILLIE 133
On Another's Sorrow ...................................................... BLAKE 139
One Mouth More .................................. ..... TOM TAYLOR 297
Orphan Boy, The .............................................................. OPIE 247
Outward Bound ................................. WILLIAM ALLINGHAM 404,
Pet Lamb ........................................................... W ORDSWORTH 98
Poor Bobbin Weaver, The ............................................ COWPER 225
Poor Child's Hymn ........................... ........ MARY HWITT 129
Poor Old Man ...................... ........... COLERIDGE 80
Poor Susan ............................................. ... WORDSWORTH 4
Poppy, The ...................................................... JANE TAYLOR 136







viii Contents.


Author Page
Prisoner, The, to aRobinthat ame this Window. J. MONTGOMERY 188
Pussy-Cat ............................................ AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 138
Richer than Gold............ THE AUTHOR OF "THE GENTLE LIFE 328
Robin Hood's Death and Burial .......................... OLD BALLAD 305
Robin Redbreasts, The .......................... AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 33
Sailor Boy ..................................... TENNYSON 215
Sailor's Mother, The ........................................ WORDSWORTH 40
Sands of Dee, The ............................................... C. KINGSLEY 340
Sea Captain's Farewell to his Child, The ......... H. W. DULCKEN 294
Shepherd's Home, The ................................... SHENSTONE 154
Sisterless, The ............................................ DORA GREENWELL 56
Snug Little Island, The ................................................ DIBDIN 399
Soldier's Dream ..................................... ....... CAMPBELL 131
Spanish Armada................................... ... LORD MACAULAY 90
Story by the Fire, A ............ ....................... DORA GREENWELL 410
Strange Child's Christmas, The ................. FROM THE GERMAN 301
Sulky Sarah ..................................................... JANE TAYLOR 269
There was a Jolly Miller ................................... BICERSTAFFE 380
Three Fishers, The ............................................. C. KINGSLEY 326
Three Sons, The ..................................................... MOULTRIE 332
To a Bee ................................ ... ............ SOUTHEY 240
To a Butterfly ................................... WORDSWORTH 192
Tom Bowling .................................................. .... DIBDIN 251
To my Mother.................................. ..... KIRKE WHITE 156
Traveller's Return, The ....................................... SOUTHEY 125
Turtle-Dove's Nest, The ........................ AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 182
Under the Greenwood Tree ................................ SHAKESPEARE 176
Village Boy, The................................ .... ............ CLARE 369
Village Church, The .................................. MARY BURROWS 158
Village Tale, A ............. .................................. BENNETT 226
Violet, The ............................................. JANE TAYLOR 137
W ar Song ............................................................... .... SCOTT 347
Waves on the Sea Shore ........................ AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES 289
Way to be Happy................................................... JANE TAYLOR 219
We are Seven ............................... ..................... WORDSWORTH 353
Welcome Minstrels, The ..................................... TOM HOOD 350
Winter .................................. .............. SHAKESPEARE 371
Winter ............................................ FROM THE GERMAN 263
W ish, A ............... .......... ........ ....................... ROGERS 87
Woodcutter's Night Song ......................................... CLARE 78
Ye Mariners of England ....................................... CAMPBELL 270
Youth and Age ............. .......... .. .... TOM HOOD 425























THE CHILDREN.

B EAUTIFUL the children's faces!
Spite of all that mars and sears:
To my inmost heart appealing;
Calling forth love's tenderest feeling;-
Steeping all my soul with tears.






The C/hildrew.


Eloquent the children's faces!
Poverty's lean look, which saith,
Save us! save us! woe surrounds us;
Little knowledge sore confounds us;
Life is but a lingering death!

Give us light amid our darkness;
Let us know the good from ill;
Hate us not for all our blindness;
Love us, lead us, show us kindness--
You can make us what you will,

We are willing; we are ready;
We would learn if you would teach;
We have hearts that yearn towards duty;
We have minds alive to beauty;
Souls that any heights can reach!

Raise us by your Christian knowledge;
Consecrate to man our powers;
Let us take our proper station;
We, the rising generation,
Let us stamp the age as ours.





Tie Chi/bIcn.


We shall be what you will make us:--
Make us wise, and make us good!
Make us strong for time of trial;
Teach us temperance, self-denial,
Patience, kindness, fortitude!

Look into our childish faces;
See you not our willing hearts ?
Only love us-only lead us;
Only let us know you need us,
And we all will do our parts.

We are thousands-many thousands;
Every day our ranks increase;
Let us march beneath your banner,
We, the legion of true honour,
Combating for love and peace!

Train us! try us! days slide onward,
They can ne'er be ours again:
Save us, save! from our undoing!
Save from ignorance and ruin;
Make us worthy to be MEN !
1-2





Poor Sztsan.


Send us to our weeping mothers,
Angel-stamped in heart and brow!
We may be our fathers' teachers;
We may be the mightiest preachers,
In the day that dawneth now!

Such the children's mute appealing:
All my inmost soul was stirred,
And my heart was bowed with sadness
When a cry, like summer's gladness,
Said, "The children's prayer is heard!"
Mary Howitt.




POOR SUSAN.

AT the corner of Wood Street, when daylight
appears,
There's a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three
years;
Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard
In the silence of morning the song of the bird.






Poor Susan.


---'---I


%4 i


'T is a note of enchantment: what ails her ? She sees
A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;
Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide,
And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapsid@e

Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale,
Down which she so often has tripped with her pail;
And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove's,
The one only dwelling on earth that she loves.






Lucy Gray.


She looks, and her heart is in heaven; but they fade,
The mist and the river, the hill and the shade:
The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise,
And the colours have all passed away from her eyes.
iordsworth. \
-4--B--

LUCY GRAY;

SOR, SOLITUDE.'

OFT have I heard of Lucy Gray;
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see, at break of day,
The solitary child.

No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,
The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door !

"To-night will be a stormy night-
You to the town must go;
And take a lantern, child, to light
Your mother through the snow."


6 *




















































Lucy Gray.



























































i




C



~~ c
,















I






-ucy Gray.


"That, father, will I gladly do;
'T is scarcely afternoon--
The Minster clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the moon."

At this the father raised his hook
And snapped a faggot band;
He plied his work; and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe:
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powdery snow,
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time:
She wandered up and down,
And many a hill did Lucy climb,
But never reached the town.

The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide;
But-there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.






Lucy Gray.


At daybreak on a 1ll they stood
That overlooked the moor,
And thence they saw the bridge of wood,
A furlong from their door.

You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of JLucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

And, turning homeward, now they cried,
" n heaven we all shall meet 1"
When in the snow the mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downward from the steep hill's edge
They tracked the foot-marks small,
And through the broken hawthorn hedge,
And by the long stone wall;

And then an open field they crossed:
The marks were still the same;
They tracked them on, nor ever lost;
And to the bridge they came.






Baby May.


They followed from the snowy bank
The foot-marks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank;
And farther there were none !

Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living child,
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lornesme wild.

O'er rough and smooth she trips along,
And never looks behind,
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind.




BABY MAY.

C HEEKS as soft as July peaches,
Lips whose dewy scarlet teaches
Poppies paleness-round large eyes
Ever great with new surprise,






Baby May.


Minutes filled with shadeless gladness,
Minutes just as brimmed with sadness,
Happy smiles and wailing cries,
Crows, and laughs, and tearful eyes,
Lights and shadows swifter born
Than on wind-swept autumn corn,
Ever some new tiny notion
Making every limb all motion-
Catchings up of legs and arms,
Throwings back and small alarms,.


IO






Baby May.


Clutching fingers-straightening jerks,
Twining feet whose each toe works,
Kickings up and straining risings,
Mother's ever-new surprising,
Hands all wants and looks all wonder
At all things the heavens under,
Tiny scorns of smiled reprovings
That have more of love than loving,
Mischiefs done with such a winning
Archness, that we prize such sinning;
Breakings dire of plates and glasses,
Graspings small at all that passes,
Pullings off of all that's able
To be caught from tray or table;
Silences-small meditations,
Deep as thoughts of cares for nations,
Breaking into wisest speeches
In a tongue that nothing teaches,
All the thoughts of whose possessing
Must be wooed to light by guessing;
Slumbers-such sweet angel-seemings,
That we'd ever have such drearhings,
Till from sleep we see thee breaking,
And we'd always have thee waking;


_I _


I r






The Little Girl's Lament.


Wealth for which we know no measure,
Pleasure high above all pleasure,
Gladness brimming over gladness,
Joy in care, delight in sadness,
Loveliness beyond completeness,
Sweetness distancing all sweetness,
Beauty all that beauty may be-
That's May Bennett, that's my baby.
Benneit.





THE LITTLE GIRL'S LAMENT.

S heaven a long way off, mother ?
I watch through all the day,
To see my father coming back-;
And meet him on the way.

And when the night comes on, I stand
Where once I used to wait,
To see him coming from the fields
And meet him at the gate;


12






TheLittle Girl's Lament.


"AIb


Then I used to put my hand in his,
And cared not more to play;
But I never meet him coming now,
However long I stay.

And you tell me he's in heaven, and far,
Far happier than we,
And loves us still the same; but how,
Dear mother, can that be?


13






The Little Girl's Lament.


For he never left us for a day
To market or to fair,
But the best of all that father saw
He brought for us to share.

He cared for nothing then but us:
I have heard father say
That coming, back made worth his while
Sometimes to go away.

He used to say he liked our house
Far better than the Hall;
He would not change it for the best,
The grandest place of all.

And if where he is now, mother,
All is so good and fair,
He would have come back long ago,
To take us with him there.

He never would be missed from heaven:
I have heard father say
How many angels God has there,
To praise Him night and day:


14






T/z Little Girl's Lament.


He never wotiT be missed in heaven,
From all that blessed throng;
And we-oh I we have missed him here
So sadly and so long!

But if he came to fetch us, then
I would hold his hand so fast,
I would not let it go again
Till all the way was past.

He'd tell me all that he has seen,
But I would never say,
How dull and lonely we have been
Since he went far away.

When you raised me to the bed, mother,
And I kissed him on the cheek,
His cheek was pale and very cold,
And his voice was low and weak.

And yet I can remember well
Each word that he spoke then,
For he said I must be a dear, good girl,
And we should meet again!


15





The Little Girl's Lament.


And, oh! but I have tried since then
To be good through all the day;
I have done whatever you bid me, mother,
Yet father stays away!

Is it because God loves him so?-
I know that in His love
He takes the good away from earth,
To live with Him above!

Oh that God had not loved him so!
For then he might have stayed,
And kissed me as he used at nights,
When by his knee-I played;

Oh that he had not been so good,
So patient, or so kind!
Oh! had but we been more like him,
And not been left behind!
Dora Greenwell.


6w "I-






The Last of the Flock.


THE LAST OF THE FLOCK.


N distant countries have I been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full-grown,
Weep in the public roads alone.
But such a one on English ground,
And in the broad highway I met.
Along the broad highway he came,
His cheeks with tears were wet.


Ty


2- v
~P
--
C ~p,,,






The Last of the Flock.


Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
And in his arms a lamb he had.
He saw me, and he turned aside,
As if he wished himself to hide;
Then with his coat he made essay
To wipe those briny tears away.
I followed him, and said, "My friend,
What ails you ?-wherefore weep you so?"
"Shame on me, sir! this lusty lamb,
He makes my tears to flow.
To-day I fetched him from the rock;
He is the last of all my flock.
When I was young, a single man,
And after youthful follies ran,
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, a ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see;
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;
Of sheep I numbered a full score,
And every year increased my store.
Year after year my stock it grew;
And from this one, this single ewe,


i8





The Last of the Flock.


Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
As sweet a flock as ever grazed.
Upon the mountain did they feed,-
They throve, and we at home did thrive.
-This lusty lamb, of all my store,
Is all that is alive;
And now I care not if we die,
And perish all of poverty.

"Six children, sir, had I to feed,-
Hard labour in a time of need!
My pride was tamed, and in our grief
Iof the parish asked relief.
They said I was a wealthy man,
My sheep upon the mountain fed,
And it was fit that thence I took
Whereof to buy us bread.
'Do this: how can we give to you,'
They cried, what to the poor is due ?'

"I sold a sheep, as they had said,
And bought my little children bread,
And they were healthy with their food;
For me-it never did me good.
2-2


19






The Last of the Flock.


A woeful time it was for me,
To see the end of all my gains,
The pretty flock which I had reared
With all my care and pains,
To see it melt like snow away!
For me it was a woeful day.

"Another still! and still another!
A little lamb, and then its mother!
It was a vein that never stopped-
Like blood-drops from my heart they dropped,
Till thirty were not left alive.
They dwindled, dwindled, one by one;
And I may say that many a time
I wished they all were gone:
They dwindled one by one away!
For me it was a woeful day.

"To wicked deeds I was inclined,
And wicked fancies crossed my mind;
And every man I chanced to see,
I thought he knew some ill of me.
No peace, no comfort could I find,
No ease within doors or without;


20






The Last of the Flock.


And crazily and wearily
I went my work about.
Ofttimes I thought to run away!
For me it was a woeful day.

"Sir, 't was a precious flock to me,
As dear as my own children be;
For daily with my growing store
I loved my children more and more.
Alas! it was an evil time:
God cursed me in my sore distress.
I prayed, yet every day I thought
I loved my children less;
And every week and every day,
My flock it seemed to melt away.

"They dwindled, sir,-sad sight to see!
From ten to five, from five to three-
A lamb, a wether, and a ewe-
And then, at last, from three to two;
And of my fifty, yesterday
I had but only one;
And here it lies upon my arm,
Alas! and I have none.


21






22 The Fairies of the Caldon-Low.


To-day I fetched it from the rock;
It is the last of all my flock."
Wordsworth.




THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON-LOW.

A MIDSUMMER LEGEND.

ND where have you been, my Mary,
And where have you been from me?"
"I've been to the top of the Caldon-Low,
The Midsummer night to see!"

"And what did you see, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon-Low?"
"I saw the blithe sunshine come down,
And I saw the merry winds blow."

"And what did you hear, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon Hill?"
"I heard the drops of the water made,
And I heard the corn-ears fill."



















































The Fairies of the Caldoln-Loa-.























































~3;






The Fairies of the Caldon-Low.


"Oh, tell me all, my Mary--
All, all that ever you know;
For you must have seen the fairies
Last night on the Caldon-Low."

"Then take me on your knee, mother,
And listen, mother of mine:
A hundred fairies danced last night,
And the harpers they were nine;

"And merry was the glee of the harp-strings,
And their dancing feet so small;
But, oh! the sound of their talking
Was merrier far than all!"

"And what were the words, my Mary,
That you did hear them say?"
"I '11 tell you all, my mother,
But let me have my way.

"And some they played with the water,
And rolled it down the hill;
'And this,' they said, 'shall speedily turn
The poor old miller's mill;


1_ 1________1_11_


23





24 The Fairies of the Caldon-Low.


"' For there has been no water
Ever since the first of May;
And a busy man shall the miller be
By the dawning of the day!

"'Oh, the miller, how he will laugh,
When he sees the mill-dam rise!
The jolly old miller, how he will laugh,
Till the tears fill both his eyes!'

"And some they seized the little winds,
That sounded over the hill,
And each put a horn into his mouth,
And blew so sharp and shrill:-

"'And there,' said they, 'the merry winds go
Away from every horn;
And those shall clear the mildew dank
From the blind old widow's corn:

"'Oh, the poor blind widow--
Though she has been blind so long,
She '11 be merry enough when the mildew's gone
And the corn stands stiff and strong!'






The Fairies of the Caldon-Low.


"And some theyrought the brown linseed,
And flung it down ff6m the Low:
'And this,' said they, 'by the sunrise,
In the weaver's croft shall grow!

"'Oh, the poor lame weaver!
How will he laugh outright
When he sees his dwindling flax-field
All full of flowers by night!'

"And then upspoke a brownie,
With a long beard on his chin:
'I have spun up all the tow,' said he,
'And I want some more to spin.

"'I've spun a piece of hempen cloth,
And I want to spin another-
A little sheet for Mary's bed,
And an apron for her mother!'

"And with that I could not help but laugh,
And I laughed out loud and free;
And then on the top of the Caldon-Low,
There was no one left but me.


25






26 The Fairies of the Caldon-Low.


"And all on the top of the Caldon-Low
The mists were cold and gray,
And nothing I saw but the mossy stones
That round about me lay.

"But, as I came down from the hill-top,
I heard, afar below,
How busy the jolly miller was, .
And how merry the wheel did go!

"And I peeped into the widow's field,
And, sure enough, was seen
The yellow ears of the mildewed corn
All standing stiff and green!

"And down by the weaver's croft I stole,
To see if the flax were high;
But I saw the weaver at his gate
With the good news in his eye!

"Now, this is all I heard, mother,
And all that I did see;
So, prithee, make my bed, mother,
For. I'm tired as I can be!"
Mary Howitt.






Goody Blake and Harry Gill.


GOODY BLAKE AND HARRY GILL.
A TRUE STORY.

O H what's the matter ? what's the matter?
What is't that ails young Harry Gill,
That evermore his teeth they chatter,
Chatter, chatter, chatter still?
Of waistcoats Harry has no lack,
Good duffil grey, and flannel fine;
He has a blanket on his back,
And coats enough to smother nine.


27






Goody Blake and Harry Gill.


In March, December, and in July,
'T is all the same with Harry Gill:
The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still,
At night, at morning, and at noon,-
'T is all the same with Harry Gill;
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still!

Young Harry was a lusty drover,
And who so stout of limb as he ?
His cheeks were red as ruddy clover;
His voice was like the voice of three.
Old Goody Blake was old and por ,
Ill-fed she was, and thinly clad;
And any man who passed her door
Might see how poor a hut she had.

All day she spun in her poor dwelling;
And then her three hours' work at night!
Alas! 't was hardly worth the telling,-
It would not pay for candlelight.
This woman dwelt in Dorsetshire,-
Her hut was on a cold hill-side,


28






Goody Blake and Harry Gill.


And in that country coals are dear,
For they come far by wind and tide.

By the same fire to boil their pottage
Two poor old dames, as I have known,
Will often live in one small cottage;
But she, poor woman! dwelt alone.
'T was well enough when summer came,
The long, warm, lightsome summer day,
Then at her door the canty dame
Would sit, as any linnet gay.

But when the ice our streams did fetter,
Oh, then how her old bones would shake!
tou would have said, if you had met her,
'T was arhard time for Goody Blake.
Her evenings then were dull and dead:
Sad case it was, as you may think,
For very cold to go to bed,
And then for cold not sleep a wink.

Oh, joy for her! whene'er in winter
The winds at night had made a rout,
And scattered many a lusty splinter
And many a rotten bough about.


29







30 Goody Blake and Harry Gil/.


Yet never had she, well or sick,
As every man who knew her says,
A pile beforehand, wood or stick,
Enough to warm her for three days.

Now, when the frost was past enduring,
And made her poor old bones to ache,
Could anything be more alluring
Than an old hedge to Goody Blake ?
And now and then, it must be said,
When her old bones were cold and chill,
She left her fire, or left her bed,
To seek the hedge'of Harry Gill.

Now, Harry he had long suspected
This trespass of old Goody Blake;
And vowed that she should be detected,
And he on her would vengeance take.
SAnd oft from his warm fire he'd go,
And to the fields his road would take;
And there, at night, in frost and snow,
He watched to seize old cdody Blake.

And once behind a rick of barley
Thus looking out did Harry stand :






Goody Blake and Harry Gill.


The moon was full and shining clearly,
And crisp with frost the stubble land.
-He hears a noise-he's all awake-
Again!-on tip-toe down the hill
He softly creeps-'t is Goody Blake!
She's at the hedge of Harry Gill!

Right glad was he when he beheld her:
Stick after stick did Goody pull:
He stood behind a bush of elder,
Till she had filled her apron full.
When with her load she turned about,
The bye-road back again to take,
He started forward with a shout,
And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.

And fiercely by the arm he took her,
And by the arm he held her fast,
And fiercely by the arm he shook her,
And cried, I've caught you, then, at last!"
Then Goody, who had nothing said,
Her bundle from her lap let fall;
And, kneeling on the sticks, she prayed
To God that is the Judge of all.


31






32 Goody Blake and Harry Gill.


She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,
While Harry held her by the arm-
"God! who art never out of hearing,
Oh, may he never more be warm!"
The cold, cold moon above her head,
Thus on her knees did Goody pray;
Young Harry heard what she had said,
And icy cold he turned away.

He went complaining all the morrow
That he was cold and very chill:
His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow,_,.
Alas! that day for Harry Gill!
That day he wore a riding-coat,
But not a whit the warmer he;
Another was on Thursday brought,
And ere the Sabbath he had three.

'T was all in vain, a useless matter,-
And blankets were about him pinned;
Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter
Like a loose casement in the wind.
And Harry's flesh it fell away;
And all who see him say, 'T is plain





"The Robin Redbreasts.


That, live as long as live he may,
He never will be warm again.

No word to any man he utters,
Abed or up, to young or old;
But ever to himself he mutters,
"Poor Harry Gill is very cold."
Abed or up, by night or day,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,
Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill.
WVordsworth.




THE ROBIN REDBREASTS.

TWO Robin Redbreasts built, their nests
Within a hollow tree;
The hen sat quietly at home,
The cock sang merrily;
And all the little young ones said,
" Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee, wee !"


33






The Robin Redbreasts.


One day (the sun was warm and bright,
And shining in the sky)
Cock Robin said, "My little dears,
'T is time you learn to fly;"
And all the little young ones said,
"I '11 try, I '11 try, I 'll try!"

I know a child, and who she is
I '11 tell you by-and-bye,


34





The Dying Child.


When mamma says, "Do this," or that,"
She says, "What for ?" and "Why ?"
She'd be a better child by far
If she would say, "I'11 try."
Aunt Effe's Rhymes,






THE DYING CHILD.

A LITTLE child lay on his bed
And drew a heavy breath,
And moaning raise jhis weary head,
Damp with the dews of death.
Upon his bed the sunset cast
The broad and yellow ray
That oft in pleasant evenings past
Had warned him from his play.
He clasped his mother's hand and sighed,
And to his lip arose
A little prayer he learnt beside
Her knee at even's close.
3-2


35






The Dying Child.


And thus he prayed, ere darkness stole
Upon the silence deep,
The Blessed One to keep his soul
And guard him in his sleep:-

"l Look btobn on me, a little c)ilt:
%fj pitg Ig szimplcity,
Atn grant me grace to come to rjee!

Four corners are around my bev,
't e etb one an angel spreab:
One to Ileab te, one to feCe me,
Joa to tate mg soul to reaben,"

"And they will take it soon: I know
I have not long to wait,
Ere with those Shining Ones I go
Within the pearly gate;

"Ere I shall look upon His face
Who died that I might live
With Him for ever, through the grace
That none save He can give!


36






I2te Dying C/ild,


"I go where the happy waters flow
By the city of our King,
Where never cometh pain nor woe,
Nor any evil thing.

"I go to play beneath the tree
Upon whose branches high
The pleasant fruits of healing be,
That none may taste and die.


37






TAe Dying Child,


"I go to join the blessed throng
Who walk arrayed in white,
To learn of them the holy song
That rises day and night.

"I see them by the emerald light
Shed by the living Bow:
Young seraph faces, pure and bright,
More fair than aught below!

"Oh come to me, ye blessed ones,
And take me in your arms:
I know you by your shining robes,
And by your waving palms.

"Your robes are pure from every stain;
Not Rachel's bitter tears
Had wrought such whiteness through the rai
Of long and evil years !

"Your smiles are sweet as is the babe's
Upon my mother's knee;
O little one! I would that thou
Wert there along with me!


38






The Dying Child.


"How happily our days would flow
Where all is glad and fair!
Ah! might the faces that I know
But look upon me there !

"For something dear will fail awhile.
In those abodes of bliss,-
The sweetness of my mother's smile,
My father's evening kiss.

" If they will miss me on the earth,
I shall miss them above,
And 'mid the holy angel mirth
Shall think on those I love.

"But when they come I shall be first
To give them welcome sweet;
My voice shall swell the joyous burst
That doth the ransomed greet!

"I come, O Saviour! yes, I haste
Thy ransomed child to be,
Yet I have many on the earth,
And none in heaven but Thee !"


__


39





The Sailors Afother.


And then a Voice spake soft and clear,
"Whom wouldst thou have but Me ?
Who, in the heavens or with thee here,
Hath owned such love for thee?"

And the child folded his wan hands, and smiled
As o'er a blissful meaning; but his breath
Failed in the happy utterance, as he met
His Father's kiss upon the lip of Death.
Dora Greenwell.



THE SAILOR'S MOTHER.

ONE morning (raw it was and wet,
A foggy day in winter-time)
A woman on the road I met,
Not old, though something past her prime;
Majestic in her person, tall and straight,
And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait.

The ancient spirit is not dead;
Old times, thought I, are breathing there;


40






The Sailor's Mother.


Proud was I that my country bred
Such strength, a dignity so fair.
She begged an alms, like one in poor estate.
I looked at her again, nor did my pride abate.

When from these lofty thoughts I woke,
With the first word I had to spare
I said to her, "Beneath your cloak
What's that which On your arms you bear ?
She answered, soon as she the question heard,
"A simple burden, sir,-a little singing-bird."


~~~~


41






The Sailor's Mother.


And thus continuing, she said,
I had a son, who many a day
Sailed on the seas: but he is dead;
In Denmark he was cast away;
And I have travelled far as Hull, to see
What clothes he might have left, or other property.

"The bird and cage they both were his;
'T was my son's bird; and neat and trim
He kept it: many voyages
His singing-bird hath gone with him.
When last he sailed he left the bird behind;
As it might be, perhaps, from bodings of his mind.

"He to a fellow-lodger's care
Had left it to be watched and fed,
Till he came back again; and there
I found it when my son was dead;
And now, God help me for my little wit!
I trail it with me, sir! he took so much delight in it."
Vordsworth.


42















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ftC Little 1, 1 L r.






The Little Sister. 43


THE LITTLE SISTER.
Vart E.
SUMMER.

M Y sister raised me to the bed, my mother so-
lemnly
Rested her hand upon my head, in silence. I could see
Her eyes were raised to heaven; at last she spoke, but
not to me,
"Poor child! thy Father yet will find a blessing left for
thee."
Then turning unto Amy, said, "To thee, though yet so
young,
I leave a legacy of love." The words upon her tongue
Failed, yet a look told all the rest, and Amy wept, and
clung
About her neck, and kissed her then so fondly and so
fast,
I only heard a murmured sound of blessing to the last.
And she was gone; yet surely then her spirit as it past
Breathed all its love on Amy's soul, and lives in it
again,
For she has been the mother to me I lost, yet lost not
then!






44 Ik e Little Sister.


And every one is kind to me, but sometimes they forget,
Because I have been ill so long, but Amy never yet
Forgot me, and I often think that seeing her so kind
Makes all the others kinder still, and keeps it in their
mind;
And oft she jests with me, and says, that still as we
begun,
Five years before me, all through life she will smooth
the path we run;
She thinks of me, let her ever be so busy or so gay,
And happy she must be that has so much to give away.
It seems as if her joyous heart took in a double share
Of all the gladness of the world, the more to have to
spare;
And every one is wanting her, that is their joy and
pride,
But still she says her happiest days are those that side
by side
We spend together. Far beneath the castle where we
dwell
Sinks deep, and low, and sudden down, a rocky, woody
dell;
It seems as if, by chasm rift, the earth had flung in
there,





The Little Sister. 45


In haste to fill the yawning gap, all goodly things and
rare,
For I never saw a place so wild, so lonely, or so fair,
I never heard the sweet birds sing so loud as they do
there,
Calling each other, morn and eve, across the narrow glen,
As if they sung "joy!" only "joy!" a hundred times
again;
And all except their song is hushed: the wind, that
hath its will
O'er all without, can never find its way within the
Ghyll,
And only rocks the tall tree-tops, while all beneath is
still.
And there at evening lingeringly, the golden sunbeams
stray
All up and down the grassy slopes, and seem to lose
their way
Among the trees, till every bole is touched with ruddy
light,
And all the pebbles in the brook are flashing wet and
bright;
The brook that through the sultry day, with waters
clear and brown,






46 The Little Sister.


From rocky shelving ledge to ledge still slips and
gurgles down,
And chafes and murmurs round about broad burdock
leaves outspread,
And great stones slippery with moss that choke its
shingly bed,
Till every here and there awhile for quietness makes
stay
In dark, deep hollows of a hand that holds it on its way,
Where all things that are glossy smooth and moist, and
green and cool,
Drip from the overhanging rock and cluster round the
pool;
And forth from ev'ry crevice and cleft peep lovely
plants and rare,
As if they were some costly theft half-thrust for hiding
there,
That earth would keep unto herself because they are
so fair,
For never, save in such fairy nooks they flourish any-
where!


Not far from this a ferny bank uprises in the dell,





Tie Little Sister.. 47


With thick dry heath o'ergrown, and moss that seems
to heave and swell
Unto the touch, and foxgloves wave o'er all with
crimson bell:
Here Amy has me brought, and here through half the
summer day
We sit and talk, or oftener dream the quiet hours
away;
And, lying in the shadow, mark the dark leaves glisten-
ing bright
Shoot up and flash in elfin spears and javelins of light,
Or listen to the wordless song, the story without end
That summer woods through all their leaves and fall-
ing waters send;
Till sometimes Amy will arise, and up and down the
brook
Flit light from stone to stone, and peer within each
leafy nook,
Or diving 'mid the boughs, awhile I see her not, but
hear
Her singing loud behind their screen to show me she
is near.
One day we marked some flowers that grew so high
upon the rock,






48 The Little Sister;


" They feel themselves so safe," I said, "they look as
if to mock
And shake their little heads at us." "But I will tame
their pride,
And take them in their very nest," then Amy laughing
cried;
And up the rock with light sure step she sprang, and
ever higher
Kept clambering up the slippery stair, and held by
bush and brier,
Until at last, the summit gained, she clapped her hands
and flung
The flowers down to me, and stamped her little foot,
and sung
Till all the woody vale awoke its echoes to prolong
The song that floated o'er its depths, the sweet and
self-same song,

"Joy!" only "joy!" that all the birds had sung in it so
long.
And singing all the way she came, once more she
neared the ground,
But now with slower step; and ere she took her last
light bound,





The Little Sister. 49


To stay herself a moment's space, she clasped a birchen
tree
That grew upon the. rock, and waved her other hand
to me;
When she stopped singing all at once, and o'er her face
a look
Passed, as if then some sudden blame unto her heart
she took;
And when she reached me where I sat, she spoke not
for awhile,
But turned her head; and when again she raised her
eyes, the smile
Was only on her lip- 2 saw that all its glee was gone,
And when at last she spoke, 't was not of what she
thought upon.

And I made answer lightly too; but silent and untold
Was something drawn between us then that loosens
not its hold;
And oft I think within myself, Sweeti sister, could you
see
This heart of mine that loves you so, you would never
grieve for me!






The Little Sister.


Vart HE3

WINTER.

When Amy was a child, our old fond nurse would say
that she
Was the fairest flower of the flock, best apple on the
tree;
And still as she grew up, at home we knew that she was
fair,
But seldom thought of it, because we saw her always
there;
So, when we came to town, almost it took us by sur-
prise
To learn how beautiful she was through other people's
eyes.
For all eyes turned to follow her, that still so little
guessed
The secret, that she oft has turned, unconscious, with
the rest,
To see what beauteous form drew near; for many,
bright and gay
Are there, yet none like Amy (so at least I hear them
say)


_ ~_I_ ~_C~


50





The Little Sister.


5i


That move with such an untrained grace, and bear
upon their looks
The freshness of the breezes light, and sunny, singing
brooks;
As if the wild, free, harmless things by stream and
wood and hill,
That had her to themselves so long, played light about
her still.
It is, they say, as when you meet in crowded thorough-
fare,
Some sight or scent that o'er you brings a breath of
country air,
With the hay-fields and the corn-fields and the sweet-
Sness only there.

I watch her from my window now, I look down through
the park,
To see her come in from her ride before the day grows
dark,
And she looks up to meet my eye and waves her hand
to me,
As when upon the slippery rock she held the birchen
tree,


4i--2






5 2 "Te Little Sister.


And springs to earth as light and free as if her foot-
step fell
Still on the soft, dry, springing moss and purple heather-
bell!

We spend no days together now, because our present
lives
Are threads too far apart to meet, though Amy ever
strives
To knit them close where'er she may, and ever seeks
to twine
And weave with mine, as it runs on, a bright and silver
line.
At night I hear a quick, light step, and sudden in the
room
A flutter 'mid its quietness, a shining on its gloom:
She comes, all rustling silken soft, all floating warm
and bright,
And glimmers through the dusk in robes of gossamer
and light,
Like a swan that spreads its white full plumes upon the
breast of. night;
She comes to ask me for her flowers, for none will
Amy wear





'The Little Sister.


Unless I bind them on her breast, or twine them in
her hair;
And she says that nothing would go well, or please her
at the ball,
Without she has a kiss from me the last, last thing of all;
And still when she comes back again, while all is fresh
and new
Upon her mind, like fairy tales it is (but these are
true)
To hear of all that she has seen,-the wondrous things
and fair,
Until it sometimes seems to me that I myself was
there.
But still she ends, "Thou little one, I leave thee, yet I
find
Not one among them all I love like her I leave be-
hind!

"Not one I love so well as thee." But this was at the
first;
And then a change came over her: it seemed a she
nursed
Some hidden thought; as folded close within the rose's
breast,


53









The sweetest, reddest leaf lies curled, and only to be
guessed
By the fragrance and the trembling light it sheds
through all the rest.
And kinder she could never grow, yet softer now I
deemed,
And graver, tenderer her smile; yet strange to me it
seemed
That gayer, brighter still she found each brilliant scene,
and well
She loved to go, yet nothing now was ever left to tell.
Upon a low seat by the fire she sat one night, and
leant
Her cheek upon her hand, and while her drooping
head she bent
To me, the warm light streamed around, and seemed
her brow to bless
With a sunny glory, and a crown of growing loveliness,
More bright than were the scarlet flowers that I was
wreathing then
About her hair, as light I laughed, and said, "No more
again
Will I take, Amy, all this pains to make thee gay and
fair,


The Little Sister.


54






The Little Sister. 55


That never bringest me a word of all that passes there
To pay me for my lovely flowers: make much of these,
and prize
This wreath, because it is the last." But then from
Amy's eyes
Her soul looked forth. "Yes, Annie! yet, perchance,
some future day
Thou wilt twine me yet another one, more sweet though
not so gay,"
And kissed me then because I wept, and whispered in
my ear,
" Well will he love my darling, else he had never been
so dear!"

I wept; but not, as Amy thought, in fear to lose her
love,
For I know that in the heart, as in the blessed home
above,
There is ever room that grows no less however many
share,-
There is room enough and love enough for all the
angels there!
I wept, but 'twas for joy, to think that now her heart
would find






56 The Sisterless.


A heart to answer hers again, and pay her back in
kind
For all the love that met me new with every dawning
day,
For all she gave, and gave untired; for all I could not
pay.
More blest to give than to receive, yet both are surely
blest,-
Long, long may Amy joy in both, to prove which is
the best.
Dora Greenwell.

-4---


THE SISTERLESS.

; HEN will my sister come, dear nurse,
V V Oh! when will my sister come ?
Will my sister ever come to ime
To share my little room,
To sleep in my little bed at night,
And by my side to play ?
Oh! now when summer is so bright
She should not stay away!






57


Why should I have no sister
When dear mamma has three ?
And if I had one, but only one,
How happy I should be !
0 nurse, though you may think it wrong,
When aunts came here one day,
And talked to her so fast and long,
With-so much to hear and say,
I cried when no one saw my face
As I sat upon her knee,


TJie Sisic less.






The Sisterless.


To think I should have no one, nurse,
To be so fond of me;
When I was old like them, I thought,
How lonely I should be!"


"You should not think so, missile,
Or say such things to me,
For God can raise up friends for you
Wherever you may be.
Some children have no kind mothers,
Some lose their father too,
And some little girls have no brothers
To play with them, like you."


"But if I had a sister, nurse,
A little angel-child,
With golden hair and clear blue eyes,
So innocent and mild,
Oh I would take her in my arms,
And set her on my knee,
And you should see what a good sister,
What a kind one I should be;
Then I would comb each shining curl,


58






The Sisterless.


And part them from her brow,
And tell her to be a dear good girl,
As you do to me now.
Then I would teach her little prayers,
And Bible stories tell,
And I think she would love me, dear nurse,
When I loved her so well!

"Butif she came in the winter, nurse,
We would wrap her up so warm,
That were it cold as Christmas-time
It should not do her harm.
If she should come in the winter,
When the ground with snow is white,
And the rime lays thick upon the pane,
And the stars shine out at night,
Then I and brothers would be glad,
And she should be our star;
And we would search within the woods,
Where the shining berries are,
And bring them in, with many a bough,
STo make the nursery gay,
And, oh4 how happy we should be
To play with her all day! i.'"





The Sisterless.


And by the light of the fire, nuise,
You would tell us tales, you know,
Of dwarfs and giants fierce, that lived
With fairies, long ago;
And she would be our fairy, nurse,
So mirthful and so wise!
And we would talk to her, and she
Would answer with her eyes;
And she would stretch her soft round arms
Unto us, with delight,
And stroke our faces with her hands
So waxen pure and white!
We would lay her in the cradle then
And rock her unto sleep,
And ere we went unto our beds,
To kiss her we would creep!

But if she came in the spring, dear nurse,
But if she came in the spring,
When the winds blow mild from the soft, warm south,
And the bird is on the wing:
If the wind would blow her unto us,
How happy should we be,
When the blossom hangs upon the flower,


60





The Sisterless.


And the bud upon the tree;
When the swallow comes across the sea,
And the lark is springing high,
As if he meant to sing his song
To angels in the sky!
And to each other the sweet birds
At early morning call;
But we should think her little voice
Was sweeter far than all!

" When the yellow palm is waving light,
And the larch is turning green,
And our orchard cherry shines in whit:
As if it were their queen;
When the blue violet in the grass
Hides deep, and does not know
How sweet she is, and as we pass
We find her hidden low;
And from the hedge the primrose looks
With pale and starry eye,
And in the fields and by the brooks
The golden kingcups lie;
Then as the days grew long, dear nurse,
Would we go forth every day,





The Sisterless.


The pleasant pasture lands among
Where the merry lambkins play;
There we would search about f6r flowers,
Our little lamb to deck,
And weave upon her head a crown,
SAnd chains around her neck,
The purple orchis, with the vetch
And wood anemone;
But not a flower among them all
Would be so fair as she!

"But if she came in the summer, nurse,
But if she came to-day,
She is the only thing we want,
All looks so fresh and gay.
Now, when the summer sun rides high,
And all is beautiful,
It seems so strange that only I
Should feel alone and dull;
For brothers go across the hills,
And ramble far away,
And I that cannot follow them
Have no one left to play:
I sit upon the garden steps


62





The Sisterless.


And dream of many things,
And watch the dragon-fly flit past
On gauze of silver wings;
The birds sing high above my head,
But I know not what they say,
And I wish your fairies had not gone,
Dear nurse, so far away;

"But if our baby were but here
Beside us in the shade,
I would not wish a fairy here,
Or green dwarf of the glade;
For if they saw her angel face
There lying in your arms,
They would leave some changeling in her place,
All through their elfin charms;
Yes! they would take our baby dear
Through wicked spells away,
And we could not spare our little flower
To make their garden gay.

SI would show her where with cool green leaf
The water-lilies float
With cup of pearl upon the streamii


63






The Sisterless.


A little magic boat.
I would take her where the foxgloves grow
So tall within the dell,
And'. evd-ery finger soft and white
Should wear a purple bell.
Where in the woods the arum springs,
And honeysuckles weave,
And the blue harebell gently rings
Its faint low chime at eve.
I would take her where the fields smell sweet
With fresh hay laid to dry:
The grasshopper beneath our feet
Were not more light than I;
The butterfly that skims in air
Were not more glad; more gay-
Oh, now that summer is so fair
She should not stay away!

" And if she came in autumn, nurse,--
It will be coming soon,
If we looked the first upon her face
By the shining harvest moon,
Oh! it would fall upon her bed
In silver streams of light,


64





The Sisterless.


And weave a crown around her head
In lines of dazzling white.
Then as she lay the stars would peep
]Down from the quiet skies,
And seem to watch her in her sleep
With gentle angel eyes.A,
If she should come in the autumn, nurse,
It takes so much away,
That it should bring her unto us
To cheer the shortening day;
When ripening on the sunny walls
We see the velvet peach,
And from the stalk the apple falls
To lie within our reach;
And filberts cluster overhead
And cones hang on the fir,
And on the bramble berries red
And ripe, that wait for her.
Then as we walk within the woods
No little bird will sing,
But in the brake the pheasant broods,
With rich and folded wing.
Within the broad and golden fields
The reapers toil all day,


65







The Sisterless.


Till heavily the laden wains
Creak on their homeward way.
If she should come in autumn, nurse,
The reaper's merry song,
As he bears the last well-ripened sheaf
In harvest joy along,
Would not be half so glad as ours,
Would not be half so gay,
If autumn brought her unto us,
To cheer the shortening day,.
We should not miss our birds and flowers,
Nor wish them back again.
And she should never know, dear nurse,
What it is to wish in vain,
Or feel what I have felt so long,
On this and many a day.
O little sister, you do wrong
To stay so long away!"
Dora Greenwell.
x..r ...


66.




































































T-W



The Battle of Blenneim.





The Battle of Blenheim.


THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.

IT was a summer's evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage deor
Was sitting in the sun
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

She saw her brother Peterkin,
Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet,
'In playing there, had found.
He came to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round.

Old Kaspar twrk it from the boy,
Who steed expectant by;
And then the eld man sheok his head,
And, with a natural sigh,
"'T is some power fellow's skull," said he,
"Who fell in the great victory !


67






The Battle of Blenheim.


" I find them in the garden,
For there's many here about;
And often when I go to plough,
The ploughshare turns them out;
For many thousand men," said he,
"Were slain in that great victory !"

" New, tell us what 't was all about,"
Yeung Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine leeks up
With wonder-waiting eyes;
" New tell us all about the war,
And what they killed each theirr for."

" It was the English," Kaspar cried,
Whq put the French to rout;
But what they killed each other for
I could not well make out.
But everybody said," quoth he,
"That 't was a famous victory !

" My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yen little stream hard by:
They burned his dwelling tv the ground,


68






The Battle of Blenheim.


And he was forced to fly;
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.

"With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide;
And many a childing mother then
And new-born baby died.
But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.

"They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won;
For many thousand bodies here
Lay rotting in the sun.
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.

"Great praise the Duke of Marlborough won,
And our good Prince Eugene."
"Why, 't was a very wicked thing !"
Said little Wilhelmine.
"Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he,
"It was a famous victory !


69






The Haunted Spring.


"And everybody praised the Duke
Who this great fight did win."
"But what good came of it at last?'
Quoth little Peterkin.
"Why, that I cannot tell," said he,
"But 't was a famous victory !"
Southey.



THE HAUNTED SPRING.

G AILY through the mountain glen
The hunter's horn did ring,
As the milk-white doe
Escaped his bow,
Down by the haunted spring.
In vain his silver horn he wound,-
'Twas echo answered back;
For neither groom nor baying hound
Were on the hunter's track:
In vain he sought the milk-white doe
That made him stray and escapedd his bov,
For, save himself, no living thing
Was by the silent haunted spring.


70






The Haunted Spring.


The purple heath-bells, blooming fair,
Their fragrance round did fling,
As the hunter lay
At close of day,
Down by the haunted spring.
A lady fair, in robe of white,
To greet the hunter came;


7I







The Haunted Spring.


She kissed a cup with jewels bright,
And pledged him by his name.
"O lady fair," the hunter cried,
"Be thou my love, my blooming bride,-
A bride that well might grace a king!
Fair lady of the haunted spring."

In the fountain clear she stooped,
And forth she drew a ring;
And that loved knight
His faith did plight
Down by the haunted spring.
But since that day his chase did stray,
The hunter n'er was seen,
And legends tell he now doth dwell
Within the hills so green;
But still the milk-white doe appears,
And wakes the peasants' evening fears,
While distant bugles faintly ring
Around the lonely haunted spring.
Lo-ver,


72





The Death of Master Tommy Rook.


THE DEATH OF MASTER TOMMY ROOK.

A PAIR of steady rooks
Chose the safest of all nooks,
In the hollow of a tree to build their home;
And while they kept within
They did not care a pin
For any roving sportsman who might come.

Their family of five
Were all happy and alive;
And Mrs. Rook was careful as could be,
To never let them out,
Till she looked all round about,
And saw that they might wander far and free.

She had talked to every one
Of the dangers of a gun,
And fondly begged that none of them would stir
To take a distant flight,
At morning, noon, or night,
Before they prudently asked leave of her.


73






74 The Death of lkaster Tommy Rook.


But one fine sunny day,
Toward the end of May,
Young Tommy Rook began to scorn her power,
And said that he would fly
Into the field close by,
And walk among the daisies for an hour.

"Stop, stop !" she cried, alarmed,
"I see a man that's armed,
And he will shoot you, sure as you are seen;
Wait till he goes, and then,
Secure from guns and men,
We all will have a ramble on the green."

But Master Tommy Rook,
With a very saucy look,
Perched on a twig, and plumed his jetty breast;
Still talking all the while,
In a very pompous style,
Of doing just what he might like the best.

I don't care one bit," said he,
For any gun you see;
I am tired of the cautions you bestow:






The Death of Master Tommy Rook.


I mean to have my way,
Whatever you may say,
And shall not ask when I may stay or go."


"But, my son," the mother cried,
"I only wish to guide
Till you are wise and fit to go alone:
I have seen much more of life,


_l_______l____ll__rI


75


111~-
''
\i. s






76 The Death of Master Tommy Rook.


Of danger, woe, and strife,
Than you, my child, can possibly have known.

"Just en minutes here,-
Let that man disappear;
I am sure he means to do some evil thing;
I fear you may be shot
If you leave this sheltered spot,
So pray come back, and keep beside mywing."

But Master Tommy Rook
Gave another saucy look,
And chattered out, Don't care! don't care!
don't care !"
And off he flew with glee,
/ From his brothers in the tree,
And lighted on the field so green and fair.

He hopped about, and found
All pleasant things around;
He strutted through the daisies,-but, alas!
A loud shot-bang !-was heard,
And the wounded, silly bird
Rolled over, faint and dying, on the grass.






The Death of Master Tommy Rook.


"There, there, I told you so !"
Cried his mother in her woe,
"I warned you with a parent's thoughtful truth;
And you see that I was right
When I tried to stop your flight,
And said you needed me to guide your youth."

Poor Master Toomy Rook
Gave a melancholy look,
And cried, just as he drew his latest breath:
"Forgive me, mother dear,
And let my brothers hear
That disobedience caused my cruel death."

Now, when his lot was told,
The rooks, both young and old,
All said he should have done as he was bid,-
That he well deserved his fate;
And I, who now relate
His hapless story, really think he did.
Eliza Cook.

i4j^


77






78 The Woodcutter's Night Song.


THE WOODCUTTER'S NIGHT SONG.

W ELCOME, red and round sun,
Dropping lowly in the west;
Now my hard day's work is done,
I'm as happy as the best.

Joyful are the thoughts of home;
Now I 'm ready for my chair,
So, till to-morrow morning's come,
Bill and mittens, lie ye there!




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