Front Cover
 Table of Contents
 Lucy gray
 The battle of Blenheim
 The fairies of the Caldon Low
 The old man in the wood
 The wreck of the Hesperus
 The sands o' dee
 The broken pitcher
 The obstinate chicken
 Back Cover

Group Title: The boys and girls' book of songs & ballads : illustrated.
Title: The boys and girls' book of songs & ballads
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00003418/00001
 Material Information
Title: The boys and girls' book of songs & ballads illustrated
Alternate Title: Boys and girls' book of songs and ballads
Physical Description: 32 leaves : col. ill. ; 28 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Leavitt & Allen ( Publisher )
Publisher: Leavitt & Allen
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: 1863
Subject: Picture books for children   ( lcsh )
Children's songs   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1863   ( lcsh )
Printed boards (Binding) -- 1863   ( rbbin )
Hand-colored illustrations -- 1863   ( local )
Bldn -- 1863
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Printed boards (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Hand-colored illustrations   ( local )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
General Note: In verse.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00003418
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 - 002767769
oclc - 33214009
notis - ANP5812
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Table of Contents
        Table of Contents 1
        Table of Contents 2
    Lucy gray
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    The battle of Blenheim
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
    The fairies of the Caldon Low
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    The old man in the wood
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    The wreck of the Hesperus
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
    The sands o' dee
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
    The broken pitcher
        Page 31
    The obstinate chicken
        Page 32
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

LUCY GRAY. By W. WORDSWORTH. 6 Illustratios, -



CASABIANCA. By Mns. HIEMANS. 2 Illustrations, -

THE OLD MAN IN THE WOOD. 4 Illustrations, -


THE SANDS O' DEE. By REV. CHASE. KINGSLEY. 5 Illustrations, -

THE BROKEN PITCHER. 1 Illustration, .

THE OBSTINATE CHICKEN. 1 Illustration, .


- 11






IL-- --



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."


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

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.

i I

- i. ~ ~i ~ e

"That, father, will I gladly do;
'Tisscarcely afternoon,
The minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the moon l"

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

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

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

-I r I i -II I L I II I

r-; I I I I

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 daybreak on the hill they stood
That overlooked the moor-
And thence they.saw the bridge of wood,
A furlong from their door.

CjoF -P*"

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.

Then downward, 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.

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

They followed from the snowy bank
Those footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank,
And further there was none.

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



_ ___ ~~ .. -1

It was a summer evening
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage door
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.




,TETI MAITITIM 031 M1 15611JETME90~f

Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh,
"'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he,
'1 Who fell in the great victory.

"Now tell us what 'twas all about,"
Young Peterkin, he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up

SI 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.

With wonder-waiting eyes;
"Now tell us all about the war
And what they fought each other for."



1 ------ --- ------- -- --- -- ----- -- ----------- --- ------------

" It was the English," Kaspar cried,
Who put the French to rout;
But what they fought each other for,
I could not well make out;
But every body said," quoth he,
" That 'twas a famous victory.

"With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide,
And many a hapless mother then,

"My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly;
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.

And new-born baby died;
But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.


- IL I-- I L -- A

" 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 Marlb'ro' won,
And our good Prince Eugene."
"Why, 'twas a very wicked thing !"

Said little Wilhelmine.
"Nay--nay-my little girl," quoth he,
"It was a famous victory.

" 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 'twas a famous victory.





- I I I YI


1'I -" And where have you been, my Mary,
*' ^And where have you been from me?"
S"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 glad 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 the ears of the green corn fill."

"Oh tell me all, my Mary,
All, all that you ever 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 their harp-strings rung so merrily
To their dancing feet so small;
But, oh the words of their talking
Were merrier far than all."

" And what were the words, my Mary,
That then you heard them say ?"
"I'll tell you all, my mother,
But let me have my way:

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

"' For there has been no water
Ever since the first of May;
And a busy man will the miller be
At 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 both loud and shrill:

II 1 -- -

"' Oh! the poor, blind widow,
Though she has been blind so long,
She'll be blithe enough when the mildew's
And the corn stands tall and strong.'

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

SAnd then outspoke 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.


" And some they brought the brown
lint seed,
And flung it down from the Low:
'And this,' they said, by the sunrise,
In the weaver's croft shall grow.

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

A W,


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

"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 coming down from the hill-top,
I heard, afar below,
How busy the jolly miller was,
And how the wheel did go.

' And I peeped into the widow's field,
And, sure enough, were seen
The yellow ears of the mildewed corn,
All standing stout and green.

"And down by the weaver's croft I stole,
To see if the flax were sprung-
But I met the weaver at his gate,
With the good news on his tongue.

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

U -r Ii


k lI r

The boy* stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle wreck,
Shone round him o'er the dead.

Yet; beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the sform;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.

The flames rolled on-he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.

Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the admiral of the Orzent,
remained at his post (in the battle of the Nile) after the ship had taken fire, and all the
guns had been abandoned, and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames
had reached the powder.

19_ I

,,-llr i

He called aloud: "Say, father, say,
If yet my task be done?"
He knew not that the chieftain lay,
Unconscious of his son.

"Speak, father!" once again he cried,
If I may yet be gone!
And "-but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death
In still, yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more aloud:
"My father! must I stay.

While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapped the ship in splendor wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And streamed above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder sound,
The boy-oh where was he ?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.

With mast and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing that perished there,
Was that young gallant heart.

I0 ii- -

- I _I --- JI --I- ,, I

THERE was an old man who liv'd in a wood,
As you shall plainly see-
He thought he could do more work in one
Than his wife could do in three.

"With all my heart," the old woman said,
"If you will allow,
You shall stay at home to-day,
And I'll go follow the plough.

" And you must milk the tiny cow,
Lest she should go dry;
And you must feed the little pigs
That are within the sty.

"And you must watch the speckled hen,
Lest she should go astray,
Not forgetting the spool of yarn
That I spin every day."


ii II Il --- ~i -T-~-- ~-_-;_- I --~I

-I1L---"---~' --- -----------


The old woman took her stick in her hand,
And went to follow the plough;
The old man put the pail on his head,
And went to milk the cow.

But Tiny she winch'd, and Tiny she flinch'd,
And Tiny she toss'd her nose;
And Tiny gave him a kick on the shin,
p..-.. | Till the blood ran down to his toes.

And a "Ho, Tiny !" and a "Lo, Tiny!" ..
And a "Pretty little cow, stand still;"
And "If ever I milk .you again," he said,
"It shall be against my will."'

And then he went to feed the pigs
That were within the sty;
He knocked his nose against the shed,
And made the blood to fly.

And then he watch'd the speckled hen,
Lest she should go astray;
But he quite forgot the spool of yarn dl
That his wife spun every day. "

JI .



And when the old woman came home at
He said he could plainly see
That his wife could do more work in a day
Than he could do in three.

And when he saw how well she plough'd,
And made the furrows even,
Said his wife could do more work in a day
Than he could do in seven!

I- ,, ,, I
r _I I 1 111

I ,,,,
I _I_ _.,I .._.~ --- --- I


IT was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wintry sea; ter,
And the skipper had taken his little daugh-
To bear him company.

The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,
And he watched how the veering flaw did
The smoke now west, now south.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds
That ope in the month of May.

Then up and spake an old sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish Main,.
"I pray thee put into yonder port,
For I fear a hurricane.

"Last night the moon had a golden
And to-night no moon we see !"
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his
And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the northeast;
The snow fell hissing in the brine
And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain,
The vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused, like a frighted
Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither! come hither! my little
And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale,
That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.


-- -"I

"0, father! I hear the church-bells ring,
0 say, what may it be ?"
"'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"
And he steered for the open sea.

" 0, father! I hear the sound of guns,
Oh say, what may it be?"
" Some ship in distress, that cannot
In such an angry sea!"

" 0, father! I see a gleaming light,
O say, what may it be ?"
But the father answered never a word--
A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming
On his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and
That saved she might be;

And she thought of Christ who stilled the
On the lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight, dark and
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Towards the reef of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between
A sound came from the land:
It was the sound of the trampling surf
On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles fiom her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy
SLooked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks they gored her side
Like the horns of an angry bull.

I --
- -- --- --- -- I I

- __

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank-
Ho! Ho! the breakers roared.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-
On the billows fall and rise.

At day-break, on the bleak sea-beach,
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair,
Lashed close to a drifting mast.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,
In the midnight and the snow!
Christ save us all from a death like
On the reef of Norman's Woe!

[NOTE: Mr. Longfellow, who wrote this beautiful poem, says we must tell our young friends that it is founded upon true inci-
dents, and that the reef of Norman's Woe, where the Hesperus was lost, and where the skipper's little daughter was washed ashore, is
well known to many bold sailors who have tried all the dangerous parts of our coast.]


I I II I-- I

" 0, MARY, go, and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
Across the sands o' Dee!"
The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam,
And all alone went she.

The creeping tide came up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand;
And round and round the sand,

I I II I e -~ -r a~ ~r I i I


As far as the eye could see,
The blinding mist came down and hid the land,
And never home came she.

Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair-
A tress of golden hair,
0' drowned maiden's hair,
Above the nets at sea ?
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair
Among the stakes on Dee.

L ,Q--9-, 1~

1 ,.

They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel, hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea;
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home
Across the sands o' Dee.


.. ,





"ALAS, alas!" the little maiden cries,
Ason the ground her pitcher broken lies-
The pitcher which so many times she bore,
Full from the well, back to the cottage door.

Ah, Jessie! thou may'st learn a lesson sad,
And yet a lesson needful to be had;
All earthly things are sure to fall at last-
The things that are above alone stand fast.





"Go not down that distant walk;
Yonder flies the savage hawk;
His sharp eyes will quickly meet you,
If you go I'm sure he'll eat you."

"Nasty hawk is far away,
I may safely go and play;
If he comes, my legs will bring
Me beneath your sheltering wing."

So it skipped off in a trice,
Scorning mother's good advice;
And when it thought at home to sup,
Down came the hawk and gobbled it up.





rrr~r~r I I

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