Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Innocent child and snow-white...
 The spring walk
 Catching prawns
 The kitten and falling leaves
 The English girl
 The little scarecrow
 The child to the waves
 Boys' play and girls' play
 The little hare
 The gleaners
 Evening devotion
 The beggar man
 The star
 The lamb
 The sunbeam
 The hayfield
 To the lady-bird
 Lucy Gray
 The mouse's petition
 Father is coming
 Sunshine and shower
 Yielding to another
 The sand castle
 To the cuckoo
 Good night and good morning
 Robin redbreast
 Baby May
 The holiday
 Little kit
 The father's return
 The bramble flower
 Christmas bells
 Back Cover

Title: Little lays for little folk
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00049574/00001
 Material Information
Title: Little lays for little folk
Physical Description: 95 p. : ill. ; 22 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Watts, John George ( Compiler )
Cooper, James Davis, 1823-1904 ( Engraver )
Barnes, Robert, 1840-1895 ( Illustrator )
Kennedy, T ( Illustrator )
Scott, T. D ( Illustrator )
Wimperis, Edmund Morrison, 1835-1900 ( Illustrator )
Keyl, Friedrich Wilhelm, 1823-1871 ( Illustrator )
Small, William, 1843-1929 ( Illustrator )
Allen, W. J ( Illustrator )
Cameron, Hugh ( Illustrator )
George Routledge and Sons ( Publisher )
Publisher: George Routledge & Sons
Place of Publication: London ;
New York
Publication Date: 1882
Subject: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1882   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1882
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
England -- London
Statement of Responsibility: selected by John G. Watts ; illustrated.
General Note: Illustrations engraved by James D. Cooper after R. Barnes, T. Kennedy, T.D. Scott, E.M. Wimperis, F.W. Keyl, W. Small, W.J. Allen, and Hugh Cameron.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00049574
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002233169
notis - ALH3576
oclc - 62331811

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page i
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
    Table of Contents
        Page iv
    Innocent child and snow-white flower
        Page 5
        Page 6
    The spring walk
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Catching prawns
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
    The kitten and falling leaves
        Page 15
        Page 16
    The English girl
        Page 17
        Page 18
    The little scarecrow
        Page 19
        Page 20
    The child to the waves
        Page 21
        Page 22
    Boys' play and girls' play
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
    The little hare
        Page 27
        Page 28
    The gleaners
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    Evening devotion
        Page 33
        Page 34
    The beggar man
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    The star
        Page 39
        Page 40
    The lamb
        Page 41
        Page 42
    The sunbeam
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
    The hayfield
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
    To the lady-bird
        Page 50
        Page 51
    Lucy Gray
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
    The mouse's petition
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Father is coming
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    Sunshine and shower
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    Yielding to another
        Page 65
        Page 66
    The sand castle
        Page 67
        Page 68
    To the cuckoo
        Page 69
        Page 70
    Good night and good morning
        Page 71
        Page 72
    Robin redbreast
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
    Baby May
        Page 77
        Page 78
    The holiday
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Little kit
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
    The father's return
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
    The bramble flower
        Page 93
        Page 94
    Christmas bells
        Page 95
        Page 96
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text


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Name of Poem. Author. Page
Innocent Child and Snow-white Flower . .. BRYANT . 5
The SSring Walk. . . . ... THOMAS MILLER 7
Catching Prawns .. . . . .. .MRS. HAWTREY .
The Kitten andfalling Leaves . . ... .WORDSWORTH 15
The English Girl.................. JANE TAYLOR 17
The Little Scarecrow . . . .CAPERN 19
The Child to the Waves ... . . .... JOHN G. WATTS 2.
Boys' Play and Girls' Play . . ... MRS. HAWTREY 23
The Little Hare ......... .......... .ANON....... 27
The Gleaners .. .................... JOHN G. WATTS. 29
Evening Devotion. . . . ... Ditto .... .33
The Beggar Man .. .. .. .. . L. AIKIN... 35
The Star. .. ........... ....... JANE TAYLOR 39
The Lamb. .... . . . BLAKE . 41
The Sunbeam . . . . MRS. ALEXANDER 43
The Hayfield ................. ANON .... .47
The Ladybird in the Fields . . . .. CAROLINE BOWLES 50
Lucy Gray . .. .. .WORDSWORTH 52
The Mouse's Petition . . .. .. MRS. BARBAULD. 56
Father is Coming . . . . .. MARY HOWITT 58
Sunshine and Shower ..... . . JOHN G. WATTS 61
Yielding to Another . . . .. MRS. ALEXANDER 65
The Sand Castle .................. MRS. HAWTREY 67
The Cuckoo ... ... ... ...... ..... LOGAN ....69
Good Night and Good Morning . . . LORD HOUGHTON 71
Robin Redbreast . . .. ....... ALLINGHAM. 73
Baby May .... ............... .W. C. BENNETT 77
The Holiday ..................... MRS. HAWTREY 79
Little Kit ...................... JOHN G. WATTS .8
The Fathers Return. . . . MRS. ALEXANDER 85
Bo-Peef ... ... .. ... ....... .. JOHN G. WATTS. .89
Lullaby....... ............... .W. C. BENNETT 91
The Bramble Flower . . . . ELLIOT 93
Ch iistmas Bells .................. ANON .... 95






INNOCENT child and snow-white flower! -- I
Well are ye paired in your opening'hour. p
Thus should the pure and the lovely
Stainless with stainless, and sweet with

White as those leaves just blown apart,
Are the opening folds of thy own young heart;
Guilty passion and cankering care
"Never have left their traces there.


Artless one though thou gazest now
O'er the white blossoms with earnest brow,
Soon will it tire thy childish eye;
Fair as it is, thou wilt throw it by.

Throw it aside in thy weary hour,
Throw to the ground the fair white flower;
Yet, as thy tender years depart.
Keep that white and innocent heart.

.... ,.-_.- - -


We had a pleasant walk to-day
Over the meadows and far away,
Across the bridge by the water-mill,
By the woodside, and up the hill;
And if you listen to what I say,
I'll tell you what we saw to-day.


Amid a hedge, where the first leaves
Were peeping from their sheaths so sly,
We saw four eggs within a nest,
And they were blue as a summer sky.

An elder-branch dipp'd in the brook;
We wondered why it moved, and found
A silken-hair'd smooth water-rat
b Nibbling, and swimming round and

Where daisies open'd to the sun,
In a broad meadow, green and white,
The lambs were racing eagerly-
We never saw a prettier sight.

We saw upon the. shady banks
Long rows of golden flowers shine,
And first mistook for buttercups
The star-shaped yellow celandine.

~~-.4~"1 ~,L -.-ir~


Anemones and primroses
And the blue violets of spring,
We found, while listening by a hedge
To hear a merry ploughman sing.

And from the earth the plough turn'd up
There came a sweet refreshing smell,
Such as the lily of the vale
Sends forth from many a woodland

We saw the yellow wall-flowers wave
-Upon a mouldering castle wall;
And then we watch'd the busy rooks
Among the ancient elm-trees tall.

And, leaning from the old stone bridge,
Below we saw our shadows lie;
And through the gloomy arches watch'd
The swift and fearless swallows fly.



We heard the speckle-breasted lark
As it sang somewhere out of sight,
And tried to find it, but the sky
Was filled with clouds of dazzling light.

We saw young rabbits near the wood,
And heard a pheasant's wings go whirr;"
And then we saw a squirrel leap
From an old oak-tree to a fir.

We came back by the village fields,
A pleasant walk it was across 'em,
For all behind the houses lay
The orchards red and white with blossom.

Were I to tell you all we saw,
I'm sure that it would take me hours;
For the whole landscape was alive
With bees, and birds, and buds, and flowers.

S-- -


ALL among the slippery rocks,
Wetting shoes and spoiling frocks,
-_ See Fred, and May, and little Flo !
Net in hand, they cunning look
In each sea-weed hidden nook,
And watch the prawns dart to and fro.



Catch them-catch them quick!" cries
S"Hold the net down-that's the way,
Just as the fisherman-would do."
In the water, Fred, knee deep,
Sinks his het and makes a sweep,
And some are caught, and some leap through.
"Will they bite me?" falters Flo.
Braver May replies, "Oh, no !
Now, hold the basket-that's the thing !
Shut the lid, or out again
They'll jump back: and what would Jane
Say, if no supper home we bring ?"



The prawns they swim, the prawns they leap,
But suddenly the pool gets deep,
And little Flo calls out to May.
The rising tide has nearly caught her,
And filled her little shoes with water,
And see i the basket floats away.

Fred, in alarm, flings down his net,
And catches Flo (his darling pet),
And in his arms he holds her tight.
"Grasp my jacket, May he cries,
As to gain the shore he tries,
And struggles on with all his might.



Wet-as wet as wet can be-
Stand the little shivering.three,
No prawns, no basket, and no net..
Long, I think, willl be ere they
Are allowed to go and play
At catching prawns, and getting wet.

4 - .


R 0.f

......'-,,,Sporting % "ith '' the c."";s tha t Fa ,
.Xitliered la. c S"-on"e-t.''-and three, -

SS.f' i .i slowly one might think.
From the motions that ate made,
ErvE little cl:f ::nvee
S Ilph or Fairy hither ten.
To this lower world descending,
Each invisible and mute,
In his wavering parachute.


-But the Kitten, how she starts,
Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!
First at one, and then its fellow,
Just as light and just as yellow;
There are many now-now one-
Now they stop and there are none:
What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of fire !
With a tiger-leap half-way
Now she meets the coming prey,
Lets it go as fast, and then
Has it in her power again:
Now she works with three or four,
Like an Indian conjuror;
Quick as he in feats of art,
Far beyond in joy of heart.
Were her antics played in the eye
Of a thousand standers-by,
Clapping hands with shouts and stare,
What would little Tabby care
For the plaudits of the crowd ?
Over happy to be proud,
Over wealthy in the treasure
Of her own exceeding pleasure !



S -- 1

SF,'_,TI On tl e 11.l!T.t e ,Sreen,
,he I.: r w%. E .h 1i __,rl : :I.. ,
Or beside l er i .,tt r c. e t.
SKrd t ,c on th.1: ll..n Ia .

No,, \%titlhin her hi.iMnble door.
e,:.ir_ c.ilear h:r k :,ien dol or
hilUe ul..:ln th l %all l
Har, g her _ulppcr p, I rjl,a


17 B


Mary never idle sits;
She either sews, or spins, or knits;
Hard she labours all the week,
With sparkling eye and rosy cheek.

And, on Sunday, Mary goes
Neatly dress'd, in decent clothes,
Says her prayers (a constant rule),
And hastens to the Sunday School.

Oh I how good should we be found,
Who live on happy, English ground;
Where rich and poor and wretched may
All learn to walk in Wisdom's way.




SHE is up in yonder field,
Mid the new-sown corn;
She'll be there until the eve,
She has been there since the morn.
O, the pretty little creature,
With her bright blue eye,
I heard ner noisy clapper,
And her scare-crow cry.
19 B 2


I paused to mark the child-
She was very fair and young;
She told me she was six,
With her merry little tongue.
In her hand she held her hat,
Which the wild wind swayed;
And purple were the feet
Of the scare-crow maid.

More happy than a queen,
Though scanty was her food,
The child that sang her song
To that clapper-music rude.
rhis the maiden's simple lay,
As she warbled in her nook,
Here clapping every day,
I scare the robber-rook "



ROLL, bright green waves, across the bay,
Sweep up like racers fleet,
I love you, in your harmless play,
The diamond sparkle of your spray,
And then your swift retreat.


A pleasant sound it is to me,
When, on our rocky shore,
I hear you, children of the sea,
To your unchanging melody
Soft breaking evermore.

I love, when gentle breezes blow,
To see you dance, and view
The great white gulls a-sailing low,
While little boats rock to and fro,
The best of friends with you.

Roll, bright green waves but do not come
With angry crests, for then
I think of mother, sick at home,
And fear lest father from your foam
Should ne'er come back again.


" Now, let's have a game of play,
Lucy, Jane, and little May.
I will be a grisly bear,
Prowling here and prowling there,
Sniffing round and round about,
Till I find you children out;
And my dreadful den shall be
Deep within the hollow tree."


Oh, no! ile.lic riut, R.jbert dear,
Do not lie a gril\ bear;
-, Little M .iy ; I l lt afraid
-.\ r hle I cir.i.l the nOi l Ie y.ou :n.le,
Roarinrg hIe a lion :trorg.
2Ju-st r.,v as o% 0 camie a lILl
An hell -src:,m anr:i sctit to-.i-Ilt,

I\Ti n I ie a r
'u sh L Ie the khens aidl 9.' k.

In the fanlln, r's :ap le-tnec.
III,-- o ut .:. [ tic 11 %.

,,, ,,1

,. = 7 -


I will softly creep this way-
Peep-and pounce upon my prey;
And I'll bear you to my den-
Where the fern grows in the glen."

Oh, no, Robert you're so strong !
While you're dragging us along,
I'm afraid you'll tear our frocks.
We won't play at hens and cocks."
"If you won't play fox or bears,
I'm a dog, and you be hares;
Then you'll only have to run--C
Girls are never up to fun."



"You've your play, and we have ours.
Go and climb the trees again.
I, and little May, and Jane,
Are so happy with our flowers.
Jane is culling foxglove bells,
May and I are making posies,
And we want to search the dells
For the latest summer roses."


--. -4

B-.--il,, r the li h 5 of the park
A Hire hae c iid, :iher f6:rm.
F:._n, atl, a drro:,.[ol r- g d i ,, tlat L-:LI e ,
3LA Alt.r s ti n1i,.l %arm.

A d :.II thr.z %e 1 a ke,
And il t ihen the Hare. ;t, ,oi-dess ." rI
Crcpt ollc.vu fi orn thle br:tke.
Sle stroke,:i her w i-skers" th her rpa s,
Looked tiiidly around
With open eyes, and ears erect
That caught the smallest sound.


The Field-mouse rustled in the grass,
The Squirrel in the trees,
But Puss was not at all afraid
Of common sounds like these.
She frisk'd and gamboll'd with delight,
And cropp'd a leaf or two
Of clover, and of tender grass,
That glisten'd in the dew.
What was it, then, that made her start,
And run away so fast ?
She heard the distant sound of hounds,
She heard the huntsman's blast.
Hoy !-tally-ho !-hoy !-tally-ho !
The hounds are in full cry;
Ehew ehew !-in scarlet coats
The men are sweeping by.
So off she set with a spring and a bound,
Over the meadows and open ground,
Faster than hunter and faster than hound
And on-and on-till she lost the sound,
And away went the little Hare.



THROUGH the stubble to and fro,
Mark the little gleaners go,
Radiant, rosy as the morn,
Seeking for the scattered corn;
Gladsome most when they espy
Where the ears the thickest lie.
See the merry gleaners go,
Through the stubble to and fro.



Damp with the dew is all around,
But they know their harvest ground
Richly will repay their toil,
And they've nothing on to spoil.
They've no fear of any hurt;
Sodden shoe or draggled skirt:
"'Thus the little gleaners go
Blithely, briskly to and fro.



Here and there a poppy red
Tempts them with its flaring head;
Nearing to the hedge, they see
Many a favourite blooming free,
But for flowers they dare not stay: _
Gleaners must not yield to play.
So the busy c(lil.lren g.,
Through the stubble to r ijn fir).



When they've done and take their wheat
Up into the village street,
Glad will be poor grandame dear,
As their brimming arms appear,
And her wonder-opened eyes
Speak her praise with her surprise
This they picture as they go,
Through the stubble to and fro.



SOFTLY sighs the evening breeze
Through the blooming chestnut trees:
Little birds from rocking spray
Sing their hymn to dying day.
33 c


Flowers that when the sun arose,
Oped to life, now softly close:
As an angel, from afar,
Beams the pale-faced evening star.

In the distant western sky
Clouds like golden landscapes lie
As a little bird at rest,
Baby sleeps on Mother's breast.

Grandame gives her knitting o'er,
And beside our cottage door
Father sits, and we draw near,
Heaven's eternal truths to hear.



AROUND the fire, one wintry night,
The farmer's rosy children sat;
The faggot lent its blazing light
And jokes went round and careless chat.

When, hark a gentle hand they hear
Low tapping at the bolted door,
And thus, to gain their willing ear,
A feeble voice was heard t' implore:
35 c 2


" Cold blows the blast across the moor;
The sleet drives hissing in the wind;
Yon toilsome mountain lies before:
A dreary treeless waste behind.

"My eyes are weak and dim with age;
No road, no path, can I descry;
And these poor rags ill stand the rage
Of such a keen inclement sky.

"So faint 1 am-these tottering feet
No more my feeble frame can bear;
My sinking heart forgets to beat,
And drifting snows my tomb prepare.



"Open your hospitable door,
Anrl sIheld mne from the bitingL, last ;
Cold. cold It blo,'s across the moor,
Thl weary moo:r that I hae pI:assed !"

"With hasty steps the i.rncmr ran,
Anr! clo;e beside the fre they place
'The poor hal-frozeu, bee,.c'ar man,
Wi\\th shaking limbs anid pallJ face.

'The little children flocking came,
And w.rn,-, i s tIff'nm-g hants in
And. busily the go od old .'-
A comlotable ne.._ prel,.rc3s.

7__ .


Their kindness cheered his drooping soul;
And slowly down his wrinkled cheek
The big round tear was seen to roll,
And told the thanks he could not speak.

The children, too, began to sigh,
And all their merry chat was o'er;
And yet they felt, they knew not why,
More glad than they had done before.

S* 38

TWINKLE, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are !
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.


Then the traveller in the dark
"Thanks you for your tiny spark :
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveller in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.


LITTLE lamb. iwho made thee?
.rt thou know who ni.-e thee
Sive thec l.i and bi..l thee feel
"D' the stream, ianler the
(Gake thee clit'inc of elilht,
Stt-- closing. ooilly, br. Lit ,
Ga.e thee such a ten der >:ice,
____ ~Making all the %ales rejoice :
Little lamb, who made thee?
SDost thou know who made thee ?



Little lamb, I'll tell thee;
Little lamb, I'll tell thee.
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a lamb.
He is meek and He is mild,
He became a little child:
I a child and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little laLb, God bless thee;
Little lamb, God bless thee.



THE golden sun goes gently down
Behind the western mountain brown;
One last bright ray is quivering still,
A crimson line along the hill,
And colours with a rosy light
The clouds far up in heaven's blue height.


How many scenes and sights to-day
Have basked beneath the selfsame ray,
Since first the glowing morning broke,
And larks sprang up and lambs awoke,
And fields, with glistening dewdrops bright,
Seemed changed to sheets of silver white !

The ship that rushed before the gale
"Has caught it on her bright'ning sail;
The shepherd boy has watched it pass,
When shadows moved along the grass;
The butterflies have loved it much;
The flowers have opened to its touch.



How oft its light has pierced the
Of some full city's garret room,
And glimmer'd through the chamber
Till the poor workman toiling there
Has let his tools a moment fall,
To see it dance upon the wall !

Perhaps, some prisoner desolate
Has watched it through his iron
And inly wondered as it fell
Across his low and narrow cell,
If things without-hill, sky, and tree,
Were lovely as they used to be.



Where'er its ray has broken in,
Have light, and heat, and brightness been:
So gentle love in Christian heart
Doth help, and hope, and peace impart,
Nor turns away when griefs oppress,
But ever shines, and shines to bless.

Go gently down, thou golden gleam :
And as I watch thy fading beam,
So let me learn, like thee, to give
Pleasure and blessing while I live;
With kindly deed and smiling face,
A sunbeam in my lowly place.



Now, youngsters, you may run and
And pitch about the new-mown hay;
The day is fair, you're ripe for fun,
So to it, children, every one.



No second bidding is required,
For every heart with joy is fired;
At once the whole troop bound away,
And toss and tumble in the hay.

-"\ Now stifled laughs and mirthful cries
From out one biggish heap arise,
And then pops up that mad-cap May,
Half smother'd from the new-mown hay.

I go to give some sage advice,
'f When lo I'm set on in a trice-
Am forced to turn and flee their play,
Pursued and pelted with the hay.

7d I



The men and maidens in a row
With pleasant smiles toil to and fro;
The lumb'ring waggon e'en looks gay,
When piled and heaped with new-mown hay.

And when at length the setting sun
Declares a full day's work is done,
The labourers leave, we turn away,
Reach home, all fragrant of the hay.

Oh, darling ones, may future years
Bring you much more of smiles than tears;
And when you're old and grave and gray,
Your lives breathe sweet as new-mown hay!



LADY-BIRD! lady-bird! fly away home-
The field-mouse is gone to her nest;
The daisies have shut up their sleepy red eyes,
And the bees and the birds are at rest.

Lady-bird lady-bird i fly away home--
The glow-worm is lighting her lamp ;
The dew's falling fast, and your fine speckled wings
Will flag with the close-clinging damp.


Lady-bird lady-bird fly a*ay home,
The fairy-bells tinkle afar;
Make haste, or they'll catch you, and harness you fast,
With a cobweb, to Oberon's car.

51 D 2


OFT I had 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 !



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

"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."

S"That, father will I gladly do:
'Tis scarcely afternoon-
The minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the moon!"

At this the father raised his hook,
And snapped a fagot 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.

At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlooked the moor;
And thence they saw the bridge of wood,
A furlong from their door.

They wept-and, turning homeward, cried,
"In heaven we all shall meet;"
When in the snow the mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Half breathless from the steep hill's edge
They tracked the footmarks 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.
They followed'from the snowy bank
Those footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank;
And further there were none i
Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living child,
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome wild.
O'er rough and smooth she trips along
And never looks behind;
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind.


THE .rOt E PF TITiO...

ALL. N1i0, T.

OH, hear a pensive prisoner's prayer,
For liberty that sighs;
"And never let thine heart be shut
Against the wretch's cries !
For here forlorn and sad I sit
Within this wiry grate;
And tremble at the approaching morn,
Which brings impending fate.
If e'er thy breast with freedom glowed,
And spurned a tyrant's chain,
Let not thy strong, oppressive force
A free-born mouse detain !


Oh! do not stain with guiltless blood
Thy hospitable hearth !
Nor triumph that thy wiles betrayed
A prize so little worth.

The scattered gleanings of a feast
My frugal meals supply;
But if thy unrelenting heart
That slender boon deny,-

The cheerful light, the vital air,
Are blessings widely given;
Let Nature's commoners enjoy
The common gifts of Heaven.

So when destruction works unseen,
Which man, like mice, may share,
May some kind angel clear thy path,
And break the hidden snare.

- _~:.L-;

_:-~-= _----_ ,, .__ -


. ',, THE clock is on the stroke of six,
S The father's work is done;
Sweep up the hearth and mend the fire,
And put the kettle on:
The wild night-wind is blowing cold,
'Tis dreary crossing o'er the wold.


^.. A,"- I" .-' I f

He is crossing o'er the wold apace,
He is stronger than the storm;
He does not feel the cold, not he,
His heart it is so warm :
A,' t For father's heart is stout and true
">. 1 As ever human bosom knew.

He makes all toil, all hardship light:
Would all men were the same !
So ready to be pleased, so kind,
So very slow to blame!
Folks need not be unkind, austere;
For love hath readier will than fear. '

Nay. do not close the shutters, child;
For Lar tlIng ie lane
Tllie Ihule i nd.:,' looks, and he
SCan see it l.iiring plain;
I'te leard li;in ,y he loves to mark
S'I hI 1e cheerful irelight through the dark.

S4. .



And we'll do all that father likes;
His wishes are so few :
Would they were more; that every hour .1
Some wish of his I knew:
I'm sure it makes a happy day,
When I can please him any way.

I know he's coming by this sign,
That baby's almost wild;
See how he laughs and crows and stares-
Heaven bless the merry child !
He's father's self in face and limb,
And father's heart is strong in him.

Hark hark! I hear his footsteps now;
He's through the garden gate :
Run, little Bess, and ope the door,
And do not let him wait. T.b- '
Shout, baby, shout and clap thy hands,
For father on the threshold stands.

"" -'- .:'t, f
S. / ,'*^ --. I
i V l -


LURED by the fairness of the day,
Some little folk have left the town :
"And, for an afternoon of sport,
Into our green lane wandered down.


The hedges crowd with bloom and leaf,
Each bird seems full of life and song;
And eloquent of purity,
The babble of that little throng.

Those chubby hands know passing well
Where shy-faced violets abound,
And every deep, and slope, and nook,
Where every summer blossom's found.

Soon hats and laps are brimming o'er
With sweet excess of sweetest flowers,
While, mirrored in each darling face,
Reigns the pure soul of childhood's hours.

So deep in sport, they do not heed
The clouds that now begin to lower,
And start surprised when all at once
Down, down there comes a rattling shower,

_ ......-


With shout and shriek away they run,
And maddest peals of laughter sound,
As one less lucky than the rest
Goes sprawling flat upon the ground.

At length, beneath a friendly hedge
The whole band, huddling up, await,
With hopeful looks and cheerful smiles,
The pelting shower to abate.

They know it must be over soon,
As each with earnest upturned eyes
Beholds the many-coloured bow,
So widely arching through the skies.

And they are right: for soon the sun
Shall in full glory come again,
The birds resume their chirp and song,
And they their sports down the lane.



Take heed, then, little people all;
And if in future days you find
Storm clouds o'ershadowing life's way,
Be mindful of the sun behind.

In faith hope on as now you hope,
With patience wait as now you do,
And soon perchance you may behold
The light of heaven breaking through.


And sets hira on her knee,
And sings her song so sweet and clear
Until he laughs in glee;

I will not frown, nor wish that I
Were sitting there instead ;
And stretch my little arms on high,
And make my face grow red.

65 E


That would be like a selfish boy,
Who loves himself so much,
He cannot feel another's joy;
And I would not be such.

For mother says, we must not care
About ourselves alone,
But freely give, or gladly share,
What might be all our own.

She says we must be yielding still,
And still to others kind,
Must often give up our own will,
And with a cheerful mind.

So, though he's sitting in my place,
I'll share in his delight;
And when he looks into my face
And laughs with all his might,

I'll laugh again, like little stream
Whereon the sun doth play,
That glistens in the sparkling beam,
And gives back ray for ray.

Smile on, dear baby; I'll not climb
To set me where you sit,
My turn will come another time;
I'll go, and play a bit.



THE tide is out, and all the strand '
Is glistening in the summer sun;
Let'S build a castle :f the airnl-
"',h m\ll not that be gloi ,lots fun? l ---

Virh Lnals and outworks r ,.le rnd ste ,p.
.!I rou ,,nd about %% _'ll d__.- a 11.:, it,
67,I i tie iid t -I, be the I:e ,p.
\\ e EEngland's 1 A. .. t

67 E 2


And where the drawbridge ought to be,
We'll make a causeway to the shore,
Well paved with stones, for you and me
To get to land when tempests roar.

We'll sit within our citadel,
And watch the tide come o'er the rocks;
But we have built it strong and well :
It will not fall for common shocks.

The moat may fill, the waves may beat,
We watch the siege all undismayed,
Because, you know, we can retreat
Along the causeway we have laid.

"Haul down your flag !" Oh, no !" we shout,
Our drums and trumpets heard afar-
The castle sinks ; but we march out
With all the honours of the war.



HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove 1
Thou messenger of Spring !
Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.
What time the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear;
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful visitant with thee
I hail the time of flowers,
And hear the sound of music sweet
From birds among the bowers.


The schoolboy wandering through the wood,
To pull the primrose gay,
Starts the new voice of Spring to hear,
And imitates the lay.

What time the pea puts on the bloom
Thou fliest thy vocal vale,
An annual guest in other lands,
Another Spring to hail.

Sweet bird thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear ;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No Winter in thy year.

Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee !
We'd make with joyful wing
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the Spring.



A FAIR little girl sat under a tree,
Sewing as long as her eyes could see:
Then smoothed her work and folded it right,
And said, "Dear work Good night! good
night !"

Such a number of rooks came over her head,
Crying Caw caw on their way to bed:
She said, as she watched their curious flight,
" Little black things Good night! good
night "



The horses neighed and the oxen lowed;
The sheep's Bleat bleat !" came over the road;
All seeming to say, with a quiet delight,
" Good little girl! Good night! good night !"
She did not say to the sun "Good night !"
Though she saw him there, like a ball of light;
For she knew he had God's own time to keep
All over the world, and never could sleep.
The tall pink foxglove bowed his head-
The violets curtsied and went to bed;
And good little Lucy tied up her hair,
And said on her knees her favourite prayer.
And while on her pillow she softly lay,
She knew nothing more till again it was day;
And all things said to the beautiful sun,
"Good morning good morning our work is begun !"


Robin, Robin REDBEAST. st,

GOOD-BYE, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our thrushes now are silent,
Our swallows flown away,-
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin sings so sweetly
In the falling of the year.


Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough;
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And what will this poor Robin do?
For pinching days are near.



iT e l i, e e;e Ror the cricket.
The .h l tack .:r tL mou.iS.
\\hen trrl,,,ln i r vlt iihi. R o i.le
Ar l, In.,an all ro,1JI tl[. h,:'us
TI,, fr,,rv a. like rr',.
The Itranc.lis li hnei ,t c --
I.Ns in \\rnter d..,d Aol ,idk
\\here can .,o, r R,:LIn j,?
R, ,n. RoIn RedL.rcat,

A\ndi a crunib of bread for Robin.
H i; ,ttl,:i. heart to c',er.

_/__ _
- -'r,

S' -o - -7:-,i',:; 1,' ,



CHEEKS as soft as July peaches,
Lips whose dewy scarlet teaches
Poppies paleness-round large eyes
Ever great with new surprise,
Minutes filled with shadeless gladness,
Minutes just as brimmed with sadness,
Happy smiles and wailing cries,
SCrows 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-



Catching up of legs and arms,
Throwings back and small alarms,
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 dreaming,
Till from sleep we see thee breaking,
And we'd always have thee waking;
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!



Pr by )our book 3nd slates to-d.l
"This is the sunny Fir-t of June. .
And w'e %1ill g, this afternoon
C.er the hills and far aray.



-- 79
: .,'

79 '


Hurrah! we'll have a holiday,
And through the wood and up the glade
We'll go, in sunshine and in shade,
Over the hills and far away.

The wild-rose blooms on every spray,
In all the sky is not a cloud,
And merry birds are singing loud,
Over the hills and far away.

Not one of us behind must stay,
But little ones and all shall go,
Where Summer breezes gently blow,
Over the hills and far away.



S PRrTT Kit, little Kit,
Oh you're a lonely pet
W\\'lth .our sleek coat, and )our white
I And toes as black as jet.
I true )our e e is rather green
But then, it slnmes so bright,

S \\h.., -tole mI' cake last nihtr.



81 F


Ah, Kitty! sweet Kitty !
You're the pet for me !
Come now, I'll rock you in my lap
And nurse you on my knee.

Pretty Kit, little Kit,
I've often fondled you,
Before your little legs could walk,
And eyes were opened too;
And when I laid you on the rug
To roll you o'er in play,
Your kind mamma in her great mouth
Would carry you away.



Ah, Kitty sweet Kitty !
You're the pet for me i
Come now, I'll rock you in my lap
And nurse you on my knee.

Pretty Kit, little Kit,
Annie's bird can sing,
Arthur's dog can carry sticks
And Mary's parrot swing;
But' though you do not carry sticks,
Or sing or swing, you are,
With your low purr, and your soft fur,
The dearest pet by far.

83 F 2


Yes, Kitty, sweet Kitty,
You're the pet for me !
Come now, I'll rock you in my lap
And nurse you on my knee.

Oh you Kit, naughty Kit,
What is this I find!
Annie's little bird is gone,
And poll 's scratched nearly blind;
Carlo's coat is sadly torn,
Oh dear, what shall I do !
You've feathers hanging round your mouth,-
It 's all been done by you.
Fie, Kitty fly, Kitty !
You're.no pet for me !
I'll neither rock you in my lap
Nor nurse you on my knee.




ALL the day long, in the cornfield so weary,
Father has toiled in the heat of the sun;
Now the great bell from the farm-yard rings cheery,
Telling the time of his labour is done. i,

; ,, ',l i 'A :

m 'l'!h0


Far in the west streaks of crirnon are shining. _
Where the last suribealm iijui-t out of sight
Slowly and brightly, I watched it declining,.
Through the oldc el- tree all -olden wtl,




Soon will the night come; the darkness will
Over the fields, and the trees, and the
And the round moon will shine brightly
where father
Reaped down the harvest and bound the
brown sheaves.


Beasts have lain down where the bright dew-drops glisten,
Birds have gone home to their roosts long ago;
Only the bat brushes by, as I listen,
Or the black beetle hums drowsy and slow.

Lay the white cloth for his coming, dear mother,
Set out his chair where he likes it to be;
Close at his side you shall stand, little brother;
Baby shall sit like a queen on his knee.
From the hard hand that has laboured so truly,
Toiling and straining that we might have bread,
We'll take the sickle that did its work duly,
Leave it to-night with the spade in the shed.

We'll hang around him with smiles and caresses,
Make him forget, as we climb on his chair,
Toil that has wearied, and care that oppresses,
All but his home, and his little ones there.


birdies c' p--- cut c the .
Linnet -n..i s1ar.u. roin cii wren
Happy to see the spring-time again.
Flower bo-pccp upon Lank and ledge,

Bo-peep bo-peep, baby !



The violet, blue like baby's eyes,
Bo-peeps up from her sly retreat,
To steal a glance at pleasant skies,
And nod to her sister primrose sweet.
'Bo-peep bo-peep, baby !

Millie bo-peeps from the curtain fold,
Mad with delight is baby boy,
And daddy is coming across the wold
To play bo-peep with his pride and joy.
Bo-peep bo-peep, baby!



""~I ij


LULLABY 0 lullaby!
Baby, hush that little cry !
Light is dying,
Bats are flying,
Bees to-day with work have done :
So, till comes to-morrow's sun,
Let sleep kiss those bright eyes dry
Lullaby 0 lullaby !


Lullaby 0 lullaby !
Hushed are all things far and nigh;
Flowers are closing,
Birds reposing,
All sweet things with life have done:
Sweet, till dawns the morning sun,
Sleep then kiss those blue eyes dry !
Lullaby 0 lullaby !


' *- --C" :-

7/L_ B....1:/ ILE FLOII R.

TH\ V Iruit iull well ti e l,-1 oolboy knols,
,"- -_ldr. -' r the l ake
S [. t thl:,i l I: rt l tli\ s.illI w lite rose
"I l '.e it for Ii, e.
..r, Tlr u h w, .,:ib. in1 I lc i.. -,. I. r,, :,
(- ic O'er all the i t L.,iu rs,
~ ThIu ieJ'sr inot Lbe :asldiamce.I to:, .h.v

ThIy tend:l r [lc^ioinm s re -
How delicate lhy gauzy frill!
S How rich thy branchy stem!
How soft thy voice when woods are still
And thou sing'st hymns to them;



While silent showers are falling slow,
And, 'mid the general hush,
A sweet air lifts the little bough,
Lone whispering through the bush!
The primrose to the grave is gone;
The hawthorn flower is dead;
The violet by the mossed grey stone
Hath laid her weary head;

But thou, wild bramble back dost bring,
In all their beauteous power,
The fresh green days of life's fair spring,
And boyhood's blossomy hour.
Scorned bramble of the brake once more
Thou bid'st me be a boy,
To gad with thee the woodlands o'er
In freedom and in joy.



HARK the Christmas bells are ringing,-
Ringing through the frosty air,
4 Happiness to each one bringing,
And release from toil and care.

How the merry peal is swelling
From the grey old crumbling tower,
To the simplest creature telling
Of Almighty love and power.


Ankle deep the snow is lying,
Every spray is clothed in white,
Yet abroad the folk are hieing,
Brisk and busy, gay and light.

Now fresh helps and aids are offered
To the aged and the poor,
And rare love-exchanges proffered
At the lowliest cottage door.

Neighbours shaking hands and greeting,
No one sorrowing, no one sad,
Children loving parents meeting,
Young and old alike made glad.

Then while Christmas bells are ringing,
Rich and poor, your voices raise,
And-your simple carol singing-
Waft to heaven your grateful praise.

F. Clay, Sons, Taylor, Printers, London.


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