FOR CHILDREN. &5

T am least apt to cry, as they always remark,

When trimmed with good lashes, or kept in the
dark,

Should I fret and be heated, they put me to bed,

And leave me to cool upon water and bread.

But if hardened I grow they make use of the
knife,

Lest an obstinate humour endanger my life ;

Or you may, though the treatment appears to be
rough,

Run a spit through my side, and with safety
enough.

Like boys who are fond of their fruit and their
play,

I am seen with my ball and my apple all day.

My belt is a rainbow, I reel and I dance;

1 am said to retire, though I never advance.

I am read by physicians, as one of their books,

And am used by the ladies to fasten their hooks,

My language is plain though it cannot be heard,

And I speak without ever pronouncing a word.

Some call me a diamond, some say I am jet;

Others talk of my water, or how I am set.

I'm a borough in England, in Scotland a stream,

And an isle of the sea in the Irishman’s dream.

The earth without me would no loveliness wear,

And sun, moon, and stars at my wish disap-
pear ;

Yet so frail is my tenure, so brittle my joy,

That a speck gives me pain, and a drop can de-
stroy.