iw # yp me 4) Wy, “Wits Pamted by R Westall R ; ’ '~ Enfraved by W. Fisdan SELECT POETRY FOR CHILDREN: WITH BRIEF EXPLANATORY NOTES ARRANGED FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS AND FAMILIES BY JOSEPH PAYNE, FDITOR OF “sTUDIEB IN ENGLISH POETRY. ** We are not proposing to train ap poets or sencimentalists; but to replenish the mind with bright and available materials, such as shall inipart to it an abundance of intellectual wealth, and give it breadth and elevation; and, by these natural means, exclude whatever i frivolous, - vulgar, selfish, or sensual.”—Isaae Taylor. TENTH EDITION. LONDON: ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & CO. (95, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1852. It is no trifling gcud to win the ear of children with yerses which foster in them the seeds of humanity, and tenderness, and piety; awaken their fancy, and exercise pleasurably and wholesomely their imaginative and me- ditative powers. It is no trifling benefit to provide a ready mirror for the young, in which they may see their own best feelings reflected, and wherein “ whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are lovely,” are presented to them in the most attractive form. It is no trifling benefit to send abroad strains which may assist in preparing the heart for its trials and in supporting it under them. SouTHey. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. In the course of his experience in tuition, the Editor of this little volume has often sought in vain for a selection of poems really adapted to the rei{uirements of Childhood—including in this term the period between six years of age and eleven and twelve. There are, indeed, many valuable works, already extant, professing to supply this want; these, however, on trial, have been found to contain but a small quantity of that sort of poetry with which children can sympathize. “The poetry which children choose,” says the author of “Home Education,” “ is that which, with a light descriptive brevity, brings the familiar aspects of the visible world before the fancy; and that also which is simply and briskly narrative, and which is enlivened by turns of humour, and deepened by just moral sentiments, and especially by touches of pity.” Such poetry has a tendency to give to the mind of a child that healthful tone, which pure air and open sunshine give to his body. Should the selection now before the reader be found to approximate even to the idea which has iv PREFACE, just been presented of what such a book ought tc be, the time and labour it has cost will be amply repaid, Besides the advantages accruing to the taste and moral character from an early acquaintance with poetry, which are the greatest and most im- portant, we must not pass over those which may be derived from it, as a means of exercising and strengthening the memory, and of cultivating the graces of elocution. The attainment of these benefits will, however, depend, in some degree, upon the manner in which they are sought. The following remarks, suggested by experience, may, perhaps, be found useful. When this book is used in schools, it is recom- mended that the lessons selected from it be learned simultaneously by small classes. An opportunity is thus afforded for giving that minute attention to the meaning and spirit of the poems, which is an essential preparation for a just delivery, and for which otherwise, probably no time could be found. It would be well for the teacher, in the first place, to read over to his pupils, with appro- ptiate emphasis and expression, the passage to be committed to memory, asking questions on any words or allusions which may seem likely to occa- sion difficulty; he will then direct them to underline PREFACE, v with pencil the words which require peculiar em- phasis in the recital, and to ascertain, or “get up,” before they repeat the lesson, the meaning of such words, phrases, and allusions as may need explanation. When he hears the lesson, he may call upon any member of the class to repeat the whole, or part of it, as may be convenient, occasionally dropping hints on peculiarities of pronunciation, and putting such questions as may serve to elicit the author's meaning, and to illus- trate the ingenuity and taste of the composition. It is advisable, too, that references should be made from one poem to another, where similar expressions or thoughts occur, or where the same subject is treated; and that the poems that have been learned should be occasionally repeated and referred to in conversation or reading. These directions will appear unnecessarily minute only to those who do not know, by experience in teach- ing, the importance of attention to details. Alterations have been made in the originals of some of the poems, in order to adapt them to the design of the work. This is frankly admitted here, that no one may regard the authors as re- sponsible for the “various readings” which will be found occasionally introduced into their com- positions. Julu, 1889 a2 ADVERTISEMENT 10 THE FOURTH EDITION. THE editor has endeavoured to acknowledge the success his little work has already met with, by making it deserving of still more. With this view he has very carefully revised and corrected it, besides increasing its bulk, and, as he hopes, its value, by the addition of several very interesting pieces. Among these will be found a beautiful ballad, entitled “ William Tell,” which has never before been printed, and for the insertion of which in this little collection, the editor begs to express his obligations to its accomplished author, the Rev. J. H. Gurney. Tue Manson Grammar Scnoot, Letherhead, Surrey, Sept. \st., 1845. INDEX. AUTHOR PAGE Ambitious Weed, the.......ecs008 Jane Taylor sce 209 Animals and their Countries...... Barbauld ...... eo. 128 Arab to his favourite Steed, the... Mrs. Norton....... oo 215 Babe in Heaven to its Mother, the ...csccssccssssoersersee 97 Barley Mowers’ Song, the.......+ Mary Howitt ...... 28 Battle of Blenheim, the............ Southey...ceccceeee 20 Bee, tO B.ccccsrssccgeccscccsscersecees SUUERCY srseesecseerens 46 Bees, Song of the ...... coe Miss Gould ....0.000 139 Beggar man, the... » Atkin ccccecccccesece 50 Beth-Gelert....... sees Wi Spenser crccasees 118 Better Land, the ......ccecccsceeee Mrs. Hemans .,.... 236 Bird caught at Sea, the ..........0 A. Hill....ccco0e eevee 55 Bird in a Cage, the...........sccc000 W. L. Bowles ...... 129 Birds ...cccccccsesessecceeesseees cores Mrs, Barbauld...... 264 Bird’s Nest, the ........cescesecoee oe Hurdis.cccccccccssees 114 Birds in Summer ............s00008 Mary Howitt ...... 15 Birds of Passage, the . Mrs. Hemans ...... 252 Birds, Questions to... - Montgomery... 163 Blackbird, to the ........cccssseees Montgomery......00 184 Blossom, the .......sssssesccsesssees Mrs. Fry ..cccccscees 235 Bread-Fruit Tree, the...........s00s cevenceccencssesonnesnes 256 Bruce and the Spider ...........0008 Bernard Barton ... 180 Butterfly’s Ball, the ........c.sc005 Roscoe ...csccecessees 9 Butterfly’s Funeral, the..........0 weed cscsseceesserseres ll Camel, the ....ccccccscccccrssesee one Mary Howitt ...... 23 Capiive Squirrel’s Petition, the... S. Strickland ...... 201 Casabianca, the Heroic Roy ...... Mrs. Hemans ...... 243 Chaffinch’s Nest at Sea, the ...... Couper sissceseeeee ye. 232 vidi INDEX. Charade ......cccessssseee cereetesene Child and Hind, the ........ Child after Absence, to @ ........- Child’s Wish, a ........cccccecceneee Childhood’s Sports... Childhood’s Tears ..........0eess00 Children in the Wood, the........ . Children Listening toa Lark...... Cicada, or Tree-hopper, the ...... Complaints cf the Poor, the ...... Constantinople .........sccsseeesere Contented Blind Boy, the ......... Cottager and his Landlord, the... Cricket, the....... Crocus, the ... . Cuckoo, the......c..seceeseseveeesons Daisy, the .......:s000 eseeeseneees a Daisy, the ........sssseeeeee seaseeens Dame Schoolmistress, the ... Day-break ......-..scseceeseees seeeee Dead Sparrow, the.. Destroyer, the........ Disputed Case, the Dog and the Water-Lily, the...... Dog of St. Bernard’s, the Dog, the Affection of a Drowning Fly, the English Home, our.............0000 Entail, or the Lordly Butterfly, the Epitaph on a Hero.............00006 Epitaph on an Infant... Epitaph on a Tame Hare Every little helps ............seeeee Example of Birds, the Fairy’s Song, a ......cceessceseenes Faithful Friend, the Fakenham Ghost, the... First Grief, the AUTHOR Campbell voccecccsees ALA. Watls......... 1 Mary Howitt... i24 Kirke White... gl Walter Scott......... 25 seaceeeees teecesecresene 143 Cotton .. lt Cowley... 176 Southey.. 80 Atkin... 206 Cibber ... 18 Cowper . 1G4 Cowper «2... - 177 22 7 Mason Good Montgomery. Kirke Ww hite.. Beaumont & Fletcher 2 Cartwright ...... . Cowper . Mrs.C. B. Wilson... Horace WW aipole .. otecccconscacersene BHD Couper . seceeeeeceneens 15 Bloomfield wes veeves 134 Mrs. Hemans ...... Lt INDEX. First Lamb, the ..........cccescesees First Swallow, the Flocks, Folding the ..............- Flocks, Unfolding the Fly, the ..... Friendships.. Frost, the.......ccscoscssnseessascccese Frost Spirit, the ...........ccsssseeee Gladness of Nature, the......... toe Glory of God, the .........cccseseee Glowworm, the ...........sscecsceee God Provideth for the Morrow... Goldfiwch starved, the . o Good Night ......s008 svewseeseees Gratitude to God ee eeseneeecvecene Hare and the Tortoise, the......... Harebell and the Foxglove, the... Harvest-home .......cescssssesseeeees Hawking party in the olden time, a Hebrew Mother, the ............... Hedge Sparrow, to a@ «...........00 He never smiled again ..........6 Homes of England ..........ccccceee Homility ....... ss eoreccece neces ove Humming-bird, the ix AUTHOR PAGE a eceetcecsenceccocsscses 4 Charlotte Smith ... 134 Beaumont & Fletcher 270 - Beaumont & Fletcher 269 Bruce csscoccsccscees 186 Wordsworth ......00+ 154 Miss Gould ......... 47 Mellen ...cccccsecseee 296 W. C. Bryant ...... 133 Heber ....... weeevees 211 Cowper .... . Heber . Cowper 7 Miss Buillie ......... 208 oeececsccseecessesensees 263 Lloyd orrrrrrrrry pease 82 aoenees secscvcccsecesees 174 sent cenccenccecsccecses 86 Mary Howite aenvee 2732 Mrs. Hemans ...... 301 oeccecnseeescscecnsonee . 68 Mrs. Hemans seeeee 298 Mrs. Hemans ...... 295 Montgomery .....000 258 Mary Howitt ...... 103 Incheape Rock, the....... esecsecsece Southey. ..ccececcssoes Incident of a Favourite Dog...... Wordsworth ......... India ...c.sccccsssesssccceveverseseees AiKIN cecececceoesees {Innocent Thief, the eececenensasees Cowper ...cserecscosee ATISCCES,....cccccescnscerscesecccsnssese Barbauld .....00.c000 Invitation to a Robin,.........0006 Langhorna ...cs000 9 Invitation to Birds........ .....ece Graves ..cccccccccsecs 117 Campbell ...cscceseee 27 x INDEX. AUTHOR PAGE King Canute .....ssscccccccsesercses Bernard Barion ... 87 Kitten and the Falling Leaves, the Wordsworth ......... 248 Kittens and the Viper, the ...... Cowper sssseeccossoees 53 Lady-bird in the House, the...... Charlotte Smith ... 45 Lady-bird in the Fields, the ..... secscescceeee 46 Lambs at Play .......csesceovesee . Boome secveace 287 Land of Contradictions, the ...... csssssssssersecesceeeece 245 Lapland .....ssesesseeeeee seeeseeesees Aikin sscssessssessee 127 Late Spring, the........ccsseseeesoes Conder ....ccsce0 ove 26 Lessons taught by Nature, the... Pope... seeee 258 Lessons to be derived from Birds G. W. Doase ...... 277 Lines from the Persian of Hafiz, Sir W. Jones ...... 104 Lion, the ........008 secs avcecceee Mary Howitt ...... 49 Locust, the sccccsccssscosccsscescaeses Mary Howitt ...... 178 Loss of the Royal George, the .. « Cowper arsosescever 275 Loving and Liking ........00.+s0 Miss Wordsworth... 64 Lancy Gray ..cccccsceeccsenerseeeeeees Wordsworth ......00. 105 Lullaby, the ceseseee eneesee osecsees seecsccccccccesescsecees 56 Mariner's Song, the ............... 4. Cunningham ... 300 Marion Lee ..... w. Mary Howitt ...... 86 Maze, the .....cccccrceee sencsscecces Cowper — ..cssaccsees 236 Milkmaid, the .........cessese0 we Jeffreys Taylor...... 75 Miser and the Mouse, the ......... Cowper — sasescserace 4 Mock-Hero, the .......sscsscesessoes Mrs. Leicester ...... 19 Moral Maxims ........sececosseee Pope, 86. .coscssscens 279 Morning Invitation to a Child ... J. H. Green........ 108 Morning or Evening Hymn Morning Mist, the .. Moss Rose, the ......scceserosescene evnsee o- Mother and Babe in the Snow, the ......ssseeeee Mother and her Child, the......... Rogers : Mother tried, the ......sscssease vee SC. Hall wccceeee Mouse's Petition, the ...........000 Barbauld .eseceessone My Father ’s at the Helm......... cssssssccesrssseeseesees Napoleon and the Young Sailor. Campbell ....... teens Nautilus, the ........0008 sscccesecese Charlotte Smith ... Negro Boy, the ...cccccccocsecaseene Samwell ...cccssseee Nightingale and Glow-worm, the Cowper — ......s.00 INDEX, xi AUTHOR PAGE North Wind, Song of the......... . eeesacsecenaseres seses 207 Now and Then ciscccsssesseccsccees Sane Taylor orssevee. 290 Old Christmas .....cccccccssscceoee Mary Howitt ...... 66 Old Man’s Comforts, the ....... o Southey ....0. eevee 156 Orphans, the .....ccssssssccccsecene seconecssesceccescceeeee 89 Orphan Boy, the ......... veeeeeeee Mrs. ‘Opie soccssene 54 Oh! spare my Flower .......cc000 Lyle sccosseoee coeevene 200 Parrot, the ..... esace Campbell .....00.0008 164 Pearl, the .... wee SLC. Hall ceccsecce 185 Pet Lamb, the .....ssececscocees a. Wordsworth ......... 30 Pet Plant, the......scsssscssccscceses pecvecccsecsecccccsccees OD Pine Apples and the Bee, the ... Cowper......ccoscooes 200 Pious Wish, the.......... eveseeees ee Ellwood ....esescere 256 Plane Tree and the Vine, the oes tesceecencesecessecee « 245 Poor, the unregarded Toils of the Mary Howitt 1... 189 Principle put to the Test ......... Cowper... e 131 Prisoner to a Robin, the ......... Mantgomery......... 63 Reasons for Mirth ...........0000 ... Miss Mitford ...... 225 Retired Cat, the......csccsccssccsese COowpersesses sesvecese 229 Reveillé, the .........ccsssscossesene Miss Bailiie......... 208 Robin pursuing a Butterfly, the... Wordsworth ......... 149 Rose, the....cccssesscvccsccevcccensecs COWPE ssscceecceescee 289 Sabbath Morning ........seccccseee Grahame .ccoccsesee 278 Sandal Tree, the . S.C. Wilkes ...... 249 Sea, the .....cesecssseeees cerecevess . Bernard Barton ... 263 Self-examination........ccsessseee te Covaesenceteosescoescoes 255 Silk-worm, the ......csscssescoeeses Cowper ...sscosseosees 219 Snail, the......ccccssssesccsssserseed 8. Cowper sessessscarseae 142 Snake in the Grass, a.........0006 «- Montgomery ......... 57 Snow-drop, the ......ccsccsssccoeeee sen eseescecoes . 6 Spaniel on his killing a bird, toa Couper ... 2 182 Sparrows at College, the... vee Cowper ..esscces woe 239 Spider, the ......ccscesssssece seasons Dryden 18 Squirrel, the .......00 seeecoeeereess Cowper .recevecsens eve 242 St. Philip Neri and the Youth .... Byrom. cseeveee 212 Strawberry Girl, Song of the 1...) ...esssessessesenee sooee 228 Streamlet, the........cssesccsssceeees M. A. Stodart 130 xii INDEX. AUTHOR PAGE Stride, the .....ccs000- ceesweeceee eae. Wordsworth 00.0.0... 152 SUMME, .....sccscessssscccesseee esos Eliza Cook .....000. 170 Summer Evening, & .......ss00 see Watts ....ccovcceeees 102 Summer Evening at the Farm ... Kirke White......... 69 Sunshine after a Shower..... Thomas Warton ... 289 Swallow, the .....ccccsssccsescseseee Akin ccscecesevee wwe 65 SwalloW and Redbreast, the ...... W. L. Bowles ...... 187 Swiss Home-Sickness ......cscseeore Mrs. Hemans ...... 271 Three Sons, the ....ss.cccssonssseeee Moultrie csescecseeee 98 Thrush, the ....... so seenssaeveosees Time cicccccecesscecceere Toad’s Journal, the ..... Traveller’s Return, the Traveller in Africa, the .........00: Duchess of Devon... 193 Unkind Reflections ...........0008 « seaseascneccscenceenses 294 Visible Creation, the ..........00. Montgomery ...... 1 Voice of Spring, the .........se0« Mary Howitt ...... 2 War icccccscscscccscseccssccseeceee Valter Scott.....000 BOL Wasp, to & ...cccecsesccascerssscesens Bruce ...scsceceee oe 122 Water Wagtail, Soliloquy of a... Montgomery......... 109 Weare Seven ....ssccrsessccsccserees Wordsworth ........ 72 Web-Spinner, the true Story of... Mary Howitt ..... 13 Wedding among the Flowers, the Ann Ta LOT eacceees . 33 William Tell......cccsssscsssescveee Reve Js Ae Gurney 305 Wind in a Frolic, the.. William Howitt . Winter’s Day, the wcccecsssccscseee secevenseees seeeecenenes Winter Fire, the cseccecsersseee ooo Mary "Howitt... Wishes and Realities ......2.. 20s. ssssesssssccesroeaneees, Wood-lane in Spring, the ......... csscseeeee seeeswens cooee 293 Woodman and his Dog....... sevee COWpEr ccecerrerereece 242 Worn, the ......ccccscsesscesees seces GisbOrne s.cccesseees 51 Worm and the Snail, the ........ « Jane Taylor... 158 Wren’s Nest, the o.c..scseee esecee Wordsworth ....s0000 283 Youthful King, the .......... sever Miss Jewsbury...... 5 SELECT POETRY FOR CHILDREN. THE VISIBLE CREATION. Tux God of nature and of grace’ In all his works appears; * His goodness through the earth we tracey His grandeur in the spheres.! Behold this fair and fertile globe, By Him in wisdom planned ; ‘Twas He who girded, like a robe, © The ocean round the land. Lift to the firmament your eye— Thither His path pursue ; His glory, boundless as the sky, O’erwhelms the wondering view. The forests in His strength rejoice ; Hark! on the evening breeze, As once of old, Jehovah’s voice Is heard among the trees.? * Spheres—heavenly bodies. * “And they heard the voice of the Tord God walking i in the garden in the cool of the day.” —Gen. iii. 8. B 2 SELECT POETRI Here, on the hills, He feeds his herds, His flocks in yonder plains ; His praise is warbled by the birds; —0Oh could we! catch their strains, Mount with the lark, and bear our song Up to the gates of light !? Or, with the nightingale, prolong Our numbers through the night! His blessings fall in plenteous showers Upon the lap of earth, That teems with foliage, fruits, and flowers, And rings with infant mirth. If God hath made this world so fair, Where sin and death abound ; How beautiful beyond compare,’ Will Paradise be found ! Montgomery. THE VOICE OF SPRING. I am coming, I am coming !— Hark ! the little bee is humming ;4 1 Oh could we—oh that we could. * Gates of Light—the part of the sky from which the light issues in the morning, as if from opening gates. Shakspere writes :— ‘Hark! hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings.” 3 Beyond compare—beyond comparison. * Humming—observe that many words descriptive of the sounds made by animals are imitations of the sounds them- eelves; thus the serpent and the goose hiss, bees hum, flies buzz, rooks caw, &c, FOR CHILDREN. 3 See, the lark is soaring high In the blue and sunny sky ; And the gnats are on the wing Wheeling round in airy ring. See the yellow catkins' cover All the slender willows over; And on banks of mossy green Star-like primroses are seen ; And, their? clustering leaves below, White and purple violets blow. ’ Hark! the new-born lambs are bleating, And the cawing rooks are meeting In the elms—a noisy crowd ! All the birds are singing loud ; And the first white butterfly In the sunshine dances by. Look around thee—look around ! Flowers in all the fields abound; Every running stream is bright; All the orchard trees are white, And each small and waving shoot Promises sweet flowers and fruit. Turn thine eyes to earth and heaven! God for thee the Spring has given, » Catkins—blossoms—a botanical term, denoting the im- perfect species of flower peculiar to the willow, hazel, and » few other trees. * Their, &c.—that is, below the leaves of the violcts mene tioned in the next line. 4 SELECT PORTRY Taught the birds their melodies, Clothed the earth, and cleared the skies, For thy pleasure or thy food :— Pour thy soul in gratitude! Mary Howitt. . THE FIRST LAMB. ‘Svortive harbinger! of Spring! ‘Welcome tidings dost thou bring ! Thy short, timid, quivering bleat Blends in unison? most sweet With the newly-wakened song, Heard the woodland dell along. While beneath the hawthorn’s shade, Slumbering peacefully thou'rt laid, Round the spring the daisies fair ; Violets scent the balmy air, And the primrose clusters spread A soft pillow for thy head :— Start not !—’tis a harmless guest— The partridge stealing from her nest 3 Or the bee, whose soothing hum Tells the crocus-flowers are come ! Lambkin, I will be thy friend, I my cheerful aid will lend, Thy weak, little feet, to guide To thy tender mother’s side. Soon those tottering feet will bound O’er the. thyme-besprinkled mound ;—- \ Harbinger—a forerunner—the appearance of new-bora lambs announces that Spring is coming. See p. 3. * In unison—in harmony. YOR CHILDREN. 5 Enlivened by the cheering sun, Soon the jocund race thou’lt run, And in the sportive frolic join, With heart as light and gay as mine. THE SNOW-DROP OR, THE RESURRECTION OF THE. BODY Tztt, if thou canst, how yonder flower To life and light has burst its way, Though ten long months beneath the ground Its snowy petals! torpid lay.? Then will I teach thee how a child From death’s long slumber can awake, And, to eternal life renewed, His robe of heavenly beauty take. While from the dust, each circling year, The snow-drop lifts its humble head, Say, shall I doubt God’s equal power, To call me from my lowly bed? WISHES AND REALITIES. A CHILD’S WISHES. YT wisa I were a little bird, To fly so far and high, And sail along the golden clouds, And through the azure sky. 1 Petals—flower-leaves as distinguished from the leaves of plants, * Torpid lay—lay undeveloped, as if dead, in the bulb, B2 6 SELECT POETRY I'd be the first to see the sun Up from the ocean spring ; And ere it! touched the glittering spire, His ray should gild my wing ** Above the hills I’d watch him still, Far down the crimson west ; And sing to him my evening song, Ere yet I sought my rest. And many a land I then should see, As hill and plain I crossed ; Nor fear through all the pathless sky That I should e’er be lost. “I'd fly where, round the olive bough The vine its tendrils weaves ; And shelter from the noonbeams seek Among the myrtle leaves, Now if I climb our highest hill, How little can I see! Oh had I but a pair of wings, How happy should I be!” REPLY. “Wings cannot soar above the sky, As thou in thought canst do; Nor can the veiling clouds confine Thy mental eye’s? keen view. Not to the sun dost thou chant forth Thy simple evening hymn ; Thou praisest Him, before whose smile The noonday sun grows dim. 1 Ere—before it—the sun’s ray mentioned in the next line. 9 Mental eve—the eye of the mind, which may, figura- tively, be said to see what it thinks about. FOR CHILDREN. « But thou mayst learn to trace the sun Around the earth and sky, And see him rising, setting, still, Where distant oceans lie. To other lands the bird may guide His pinions through the air ; Ere yet he rest his wings, thou art In thought before him there. “ Though strong and free, his wing may droop, Or bands restrain its flight ; Thought none may stay—more fleet its course Than swiftest beams of light ; A lovelier clime than birds can find, While summers go and come, Beyond this earth remains for those, Whom God doth summon home.” THE CUCKOO. Hatt, beauteous! stranger of the grove, Attendant on the Spring! Now Heaven repairs thy vernal seat," And woods thy welcome sing. ¥ The Cuckoo is not remarkable for beauty : it is probably addressed as beauteous here, because its coming is connected. with the appearance of the beauties of Spring. * Now Heaven, &c.—now Heaven, that is, God, makes thy Spring abode, the woods, beautiful again, SELECT POETRY Soon as 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* T hail the time of flowers ; And hear the sound of music sweet From birds among the bowers. The schoolboy, wandering in the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts—the new voice of Spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. Soon as the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest the 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! Logan * Hast thou a star, &c.—an allusion either to the pole star which guides the mariner, or to the star which led the wise men to the infant Saviour. 2 With thee—along with thee—when thou comest. 3 The old rhymes respecting the Cuckoo's arrival and departure are— “In April Come he will In July He prepares to fly.” * Aftez leaving England, the Cuckoo goes to North Africa and Asia Minor. FOR CHILDREN. 9 INVITATION TO A ROBIN. Litte bird, with bosom red, Welcome to my humble shed! Daily near my table steal, While I take my scanty meal ; Doubt not, little though there be, But I'll cast a crumb to thee ; Well rewarded if I spy Pleasure in thy glancing eye, And see thee when thou’st had thy fill, Plume thy breast, and wipe thy bill. Come, my feathered friend, again, Well thou know’st the broken pane; Ask of me thy daily store, Ever welcome to my ‘door. Langhorne. THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL Come, take up your hats, and away let us haste, To the Butterfly’s ball and the Grasshopper’s feast; ‘The trumpeter Gad-fly has summoned the crew, And the revels are now only waiting for you. On the smooth-shaven grass, by the side of a wood, Beneath a broad oak, which for ages had stood, See the children of earth, and the tenants of air, For an evening’s amusement together repair : And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black, Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back ; And there came the Gnat, and the Dragon-fly too And all their relations, green, orange, and blue. 10 SELECT POETRY And there came the Moth, in his plumage of down, And the Hornet, in jacket of yellow and brown, Who with him the Wasp his companion did bring; But they promised that evening to lay by their sting. And the sly little Dormouse crept out of his hole, And led to the feast his blind brother, the Mole ; And the Snail, with his horns peeping out from his shell, Came from a great distance—the length of an ell. A mushroom their table, and on it was laid A water-dock leaf, which a tablecloth made; The viands were various, to each of their taste, And the Bee brought his honey to crown the repast. There, close on his haunches, so solemn and wise, The Frog from a corner looked up to the skies ; And the Squirrel, well pleased such diversion to sec, Sat cracking his nuts overhead in a tree, Then out came a Spider, with fingers so fine, To show his dexterity on the tight line; From one branch to another his cobweb he slung, Then as quick as an arrow he darted along. But just in the middle, oh ! shocking to tell ! From his rope in an instant poor Harlequin fell ; Yet ho touched not the ground, but with talons! outspread, Hung suspended in air at the end of a thread. 1 Tclons—claws, FOR CHILDREN ll Then the Grasshopper came, with a jerk and a spring, Very long was his leg, though but short was his wing $ He took but three leaps, and was soon out of sight, Then chirped his own praises the rest of the night. With steps quite majestic, the Snail did advance, And promised the gazers a minuet! to dance ; But they all laughed so loud, that he pulled in his head, And went in his own little chamber to bed. Then as evening gave way to the shadows of night, Their watchman, the Glow-worm, came out with his light ; Then home let us hasten while yet we can see, For no watchman is waiting for you and for me. Roscoe. THE BUTTERFLY’S FUNERAL Ou ye! who so lately were blithesome and gay, At the Butterfly’s banquet carousing away ; Your feasts and your revels of pleasure are fled, For the chief of the banquet, the Butterfly’s dead! No longer the Flies and the Emmets advance, To join with their friendsin the Grasshopper’s dance, For see his fine form o’er the favourite bend, Aud the Grasshopper mourns for the loss of his friend. ? Minuet— an old-fashioned, slow, and stately dance 12 SELECT POETRY And hark to the funeral dirge'’ of the Bee, And the Beetie, who follows as solemn as lic ! And see, where so mournful’ the green rushes wave, The Mole is preparing the Butterfly’s grave. The Dormouse attended, but cold and forlorn, And the Gnat slowly winded his shrill little horn ; And the Moth, being grieved at the loss of a sister, Bent over her body, and silently kissed her. The corpse was embalmed at the set of the sun, And enclosed in a case which the Silk-worm had spun ; By the help of the Hornet the coffin was laid On a bier® out of myrtle and jessamine made. 1n weepers and scarfs‘ came the Butterflies all, And six of their number supported the pall ; And the Spider came there in his mourning so black, But the fire of the Glow-worm soon frightened him back, The Grub left his nut-shell to join the sad throng, And slowly led with him the Book-worm along, Who wept his poor neighbour's unfortunate doom, And wrote these few lines, to be placed on his tomb: Epirapg. At this solemn spot, where the green rushes wave, In sadness we bent o’er the Butterfly’s grave ; ‘ Dirge—a mournful song, proper for a funeral service. 2 Mournful—mournfully. 3 Bier—a frame used for carrying and supporting the dead, @ Weepers und scarjs—articles of dress worn at funerals, FOR CHILDREN 13 "Twas here the last tribute to beauty we paid, As we wept o'er the mound where her ashes are luid. And here shall the daisy and violet blow, And the lily discover’ her bosom of snow ; While under the leaf, in the evenings of spring, Still mourning his friend, shall the Grasshopper sing. THE TRUE STORY OF WEB-SPINNER, Wes-SPINNER was a miser old, Who came of low degree ;* His body was large, his legs were thin, And he kept bad company ; And his visage had the evil look Of a black felon grim ; To all the country he was known, But none spoke well of him. His house was seven stories high, In a corner of the street, And it always had a dirty look, When other homes were neat; Up in his garret dark he lived, And from the windows high, Looked out in the dusky evening Upon the passers by. 1 Discover, &c.—display to view her snow-white flower. > Who came, &c.—who was of mean origin or low rank In society. . QO SELECT POETRY Most people thought he lived alone, Yet many have averred! That dismal cries from out his house Were often loudly heard ; And that none living left his gate, Although a few went in ; For he seized the very beggar old, And stripped him to the skin. And though he prayed for mercy, Yet mercy ne’er was shown— The miser cut his body up, And picked him bone from bone, Thus people said, and all believed The dismal story true ; As it was told to me, in truth, I tell it so to you. There was an ancient widow— One Madgy de la Moth, A stranger to the man, or she Had ne’er gone there in troth :? But she was poor, and wandered out At night-fall® in the street, To beg from rich men’s tables Dry scraps of broken meat. So she knocked at old Web-Spinner's docr, With a modest tap, and low, And down stairs came he speedily Like an arrow from a bow. * Averred—positively declared. * Troth—truth 3 Night-full—the beginning of night, evening. FOR CHILDREN. 15 “Walk in, walk in, mother,” said he, And shut the door behind— She thought, for such a gentleman, That he was wondrous kind. But ere the midnight clock had tolled, Like a tiger of the wood, He had eaten the flesh from off her bones, And drunk of her heart's blood ! Now after this fell! deed was done, A little season’s space, The burly? Baron of Bluebottle Was riding from the chase. The sport was dull, the day was hot, The sun was sinking down, When wearily the Baron rode Into the dusty town. Says he, “ I'll ask a lodging, At the first house I come to;” With that,3 the gate of Web-Spinner Came suddenly in view. Loud was the knock the Baron gave— Down came the churl+ with glee ; Says Bluebottle, “ Good Sir, to-night I ask your courtesy ; I am wearied with a long day’s chace—~ My friends are far behind.” ‘You may need them all,” said Web-Spinner. “Ttrunneth in my mind.” 1 Fell—fatal, murderous, ? Burly—pompous and big. 3 With that—-with that time, just at that moment. * Churt—an ill-mannered, miserly person. 16 SELECT POETRY «A Baron am I,” said Bluebottie, “ From a foreign land I come ;” *‘T thought as much,” said Web-Spinnecz, * Fools never stay at home !” _ Says the Baron, “Churl, what meaneth this? I defy you, villian base!” And he wished the while, in his inmost heart, He was safely from the place. Web-spinner ran and locked the door, And a loud laugh laughed he, With that, each one on the other sprang And they wrestled furiously. The Baron was a man of might, A swordsman of renown ; But the Miser had the stronger arm, And kept the Baron down. Then out he took a little cord, From a pocket at his side, And with many a crafty, cruel knot, His hands and feet he tied ; And bound him down unto the floor, And said, in savage jest, “ There is heavy work in store for you ;— So, Baron, take your rest !” Then up and down his house he went, Arranging dish and platter, With a dull and heavy countenance, As if nothing were the matter. At length he seized on Bluebott'e That strong and burly man, FOR CHILDREN. 17 And with many and many a desperate tug, To hoist him up began. And step by step, and step by step, He went with heavy tread ; But ere he reached the garret door, Poor Bluebottle was dead ! Now all this while, a magistrate, Who lived in a house hard by,! Had watched Web-Spinner's cruelty Through a window privily : So in he bursts, through bolts and bars, With a loud and thundering sound, And vowed to burn the house with fire, And level it with the ground ; But the wicked churl, who all his life Had looked for such a day, Passed through a trap-door in the wall, And took himself away. But where he went, no man could tell ; Twas said that under ground He died a miserable death— But his body ne’er was found, They pulled his house down, stick and stone, * For a caitiff* vile as he,” Said they, “ within our quiet town Shall not a dweller be !” Mary Howitt. 1 Hard hy—vear at hand. ? Caitiff—villain, base fellow. 02 18 SELECT POETRY THE SPIDER. Tux treacherous Spider, when her nets are spread, Deep ambushed! in her silent den does lie, And feels, far off, the trembling of her thread, Whose filmy cord should bind the struggling Fly; Then, if at last she find him fast beset, She issues forth, and runs along her loom,* Eager to seize the captive in her net, And drag the little wretch in triumph home, Dryden THE CONTENTED BLIND BOY. Ox! say, what is that thing called light, _ Which I must ne’er enjoy ? What are the blessings of the sight ? :» Oh! tell a poor Blind Boy ! You talk of wondrous things you see ; ' *¥ou say the sun shines bright; } feel him warm, but how can he * Or make it day or night ? "My day or night myself I make Whene’er I sleep or play; And could I-always keep awake, With me ‘twere? always day. 1 Ambushed—concealed, with a view tosurprise an enemy, ‘ Loom—a weaver’s frame—here, the frame of the spider's web. : "3 Fpbre—ft were—it would be FOR CHILDREN. 19 With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne’er can know. Then let not what I cannot have My cheer of mind destroy ; While thus I sing, I am a king, Although a poor Blind Boy. C. Cibber. THE MOCK-HERO. Horatio, of ideal courage vain, Was flourishing in air his father’s cane, And, as the fumes of valour swelled his pate, Now thought himself this hero, and now that; “And now,” he cried, “ I will Achilles! be; My sword I brandish: mark! the Trojans. flee |, Now Ill be Hector,! when his angry blade — Alane through heaps of slaughtered Grecians made! And now my deeds, still braver, I'll evince, E am no less than Edward the Black Prince— Give way, ye coward French !”—As thus he spoke, And aimed in fancy a sufficient stroke lo fix the fate of Crecy or Poictiers— Heroically spurning trivial fears— His milk-white hand he strikes against a nail, Sees his own blood, and feels his courage fail— © Achilles and Hecetor—heroes celebrated in the Trojan war. 20 SELECT POETRY Ah! where is now that boasted valour flown, That in the tented field so late was shown? Achilles weeps, great Hector hangs his head, And the Black Prince goes whimpering to bed. Mrs. Leicester. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM;! OR, THE PRICE OF A VICTORY. Ir 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, That he beside the rivulet, In playing there had found ; She ran to ask what he had found, That was so large, and smooth, and round. 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, “ Who fell in the great victory. “T find them in my garden, for There's many hereabout ; 1 This dreadful battle was fought in Queen Anne's reign, nt Blenheim, a village in Bavaria, situated on the Danube. FOR CHILDREN. 21 And often when I go to plough, The ploughshare turns them out 5 For many thousand men,”! said he, ‘ Were slain in that great victory.” “ Now tell us what "twas all about,” Young Peterkin, he cries, And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting* eyes ; ** Now tell us all about the war, And what they killed each other for?” “ Tt was the English,” Kaspar cried, ** That put the French to rout ; But what they killed each other for, I could not well make out; But every body said,” quoth® he, That twas a famous victory. “ My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by ;4 They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly; So with his wife and child he fled, And knew not where to rest his head. * With fire and sword the country round They wasted far and wide ; And many a wretched mother, then, And new-born infant, died ; * It is said that 36,000 men were left killed and wounded on the field. 2 Wonder-waiting—waiting for wonders. > Quoth—says or said. * Yon little stream bard by—close to yonder little stream. SELECT POETRY 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 ‘twas a very wicked thing,” Said little Wilhelmine ; « Nay, nay, my little girl,” quoth he, “ It was a famous victory. “ And every body 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.” Southey. THE CROCUS; OR, THE DUTY OF PATIENCE Down in my solitude under the snow, Where nothing cheering can reach me ; Here, without ‘light to see how to grow, I'll trust to nature to teach me. I will not despair, nor be idle, nor frown, Enclosed in so gloomy a dwelling ; My leaves shall run up, and my roots shall run down, While the bud in my bosom is swelling. FOR CHILDREN. 23 Soon as the frost will get out of my bed, From this cold dungeon to free me, I will peer up with my little bright head—~ All will be joyful to see me. Then from my heart will young buds diverge! As rays of the sun from their focus ;? And I from the darkness of earth shall emerge, A happy and beautiful crocus ! Gaily arrayed in my yellow and green, When to their view I have risen, Will they not wonder, how one so serene Came from so dismal a prison ? Many, perhaps, from so simple a flower This useful lesson may borrow :— Patient to-day, through its gloomiest hour, We come out the brighter to-morrow ! THE CAMEL, Came, thou art good and mild, Docile as a little child ; Thou wast wnade for usefulness, Man to comfort and to bless: Thou dost clothe him; thou dost feed Thou dost lend to him thy speed ; And through wilds of trackless sand, In the hot Arabian land, Where no rock its shadow throws; Where no cooling water flows; * Diverge—spread out as from a centre. * Foeus—the point at which rays of light meet. 24 SELECT POETRY Where the hot air is not stirred By the wing of singing bird, There thou goest, untired and meek Day by day, and week by week, With thy load of precious things— Silks for merchants, gold for kings, Pearls of Ormuz,! riches rare, Damascene? and Indian ware— Bale on bale, and heap on heap— Freighted like a costly ship !3 And when week by week is gone, And the traveller journeys on Feebly ; when his strength is fled, And his hope and heart seem dead, Camel, thou dost turn thine eye On him kindly, soothingly, As if thou wouldst, cheering, say, « Journey on for this one day— Do not let thy heart despond ! There is water yet beyond ! T can scent it in the air— Do not let thy heart despair !” And thou guid’st the traveller there. Camel, thou art good and mild, Docile as a little child; Thou wast made for usefulness, Man to comfort and to bless; And the desert wastes must be Untracked regions but for thee! Mary Howitt. } Ormuz—a gulf in Asia, noved for its pearl fishery, * Dumascene ware—goods from Damascus in Syria, 3 The Arabs call the Camel “the Ship of the Deecst.” FOR CHILDREN, 25 CHILDHOOD'S TEARS. Tue tear down childhood’s cheek that flows, Ts like the dew-drop on the rose ; When next the summer breeze comes by, And waves the bush, the flower is dry. Walter Scott. THE DEAD SPARROW.! Text me not of joy! there’s none, Now my little sparrow’s gone : He would chirp and play with me; He would hang his wing awhile— Till at length he saw me smile Ob ! how sullen he would be! He would catch a crumb, and then Sporting, let it go again ; He from my lip Would moisture sip ; He would from my trencher feed ; Then would hop, and then would run, And cry “ philip” when he'd done ! Oh! whose heart can choose but bleed ? Oh ! how eager would he fight, And ne’er hurt, though he did bite ! No morn did pass, But on my glass He would sit, and mark and do What I did; now® ruffle all ' The author of this piece died in the year 1643, so that it isnow more than 200 years old, 2 When the word now is repeated, as above, the first now. signifies, at one time, the second now, at another time. D 26 SELECT POETRY His feathers o’er, now let them fall ; And then straightway sleek' them too. Now my faithful bird is gone; Oh! let mournful turtles* join With loving red-breasts, and combine To sing dirges o’er his stone ! Cartwright. THE LATE SPRING, Tue sleepy Spring was still in bed, And to rise was slowly preparing, When she heard the soft fall of the zephyr’s® tread, Who came to give her an airing. She rose in haste, not dressed in blue, But clad in her wintry mourning ;— Just stuck in her bosom a snow-drop or two, Her brow a faint smile adorning. Then away over meadow, and garden, and wood, Her light-winged courser bore her ; But in her fair eyes the tear-drop stood, To see the drear scene before her. So long had the tyrant of northern birth His iron reign extended, The genial commerce of sky and earth Had well nigh been suspended. ' Sleek—make smooth. * Turtles—turtle-doves, 3 Zephyr—the west wind—any warm, soft wind, $ Tyrant of northern birth— winter. § Genial commerce—agreeable intercourse. FOR CHILDREN, 27 The young birds had met on St. Valentine’s feast,' All eager to get married ; But the sullen saint refused to be priest ;— For another red-day* they tarried. The crocus had put forth its feelers green, But drew in its head in affright, On hearing the peas, as soon as seen, Had been all cut off in a night. The lilac gay that‘loves to be first, Stood shivering still and pouting, And many a bud was longing to burst, But its orders, as yet, was doubting. And the queen of the season, so ill did she feel, She again took to bed in pure sorrow ; But the sun has been called in, her sickness to heal, And we hope she’ll be better to-morrow. Conder. THE IRISH HARPER AND HIS DOG. Ow the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I; - No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog, Tray. 1 8t. Valentine’s Feast—the 14th of February. About this time is the usual season for the pairing of birds. ® Red-day—feast-day, so called because the names of such days used to be particularly marked in the almanacs, by being printed in red lettera, 28 SELECT POETRY When at last I was forced from my Sheelah to part, She said—while the sorrow was big at her heart “Oh! remember your Sheelah, when far, far away, And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog, Tray.” Poor dog! he was faithful and kind, to be sure, And he constantly loved me, although I was poor; When the sour-looking folks sent me heartlessaway, I had always a friend in my poor dog, Tray. When the road was so dark, and the night was so cold, And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old, How snugly we slept in my old coat of gray, And he licked me for kindness—my poor dog, Tray. Though my wallet was scant! I remembered his case, Nor refused my last crust to his pitiful face ; But he died at my feet on a cold winter's day, And I played a sad lament for my poor dog, Tray. Where now shall I go, poor, forsaken, and blind ? Can I find one to guide me, so faithful and kind? To my sweet native village, so far, far away, I can never return with my poor dog, Tray. Cambell. THE BARLEY-MOWERS’ SONG, BaRLEY-MOWERS, here we stand, One, two, three, a steady band; True of heart, and strong of limb, Ready in our harvest trim ; “1 Though my wallet was seant—though my bag was {Il furnished or nearly empty. 2 As true’s—as true as, FOR CHILDREN. All a-row with spirits blithe, Now we whet the bended scythe, Rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink-a-tink ! Side by side, now bending low, Down the swaths! of barley go, Stroke by stroke, as true’s* the chime Of the bells, we keep in time ; Then we whet the ringing scythe, Standing ’mong the barley lithe,’ Rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink-a-tink ! Barley-mowers must be true, Keeping still the end in view, One with all, and all with one, Working on till set of sun, Bending all with spirits blithe, Whetting all at once the scythe, Rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink-a-tink ! Day and night, and night and day, Time, the mower, will not stay ; We may hear him in our path By the falling barley swath ; While we sing with voices blithe, We may hear his ringing scythe, Rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink-a-tink Time, the mower, cuts down all, High and low, and great and small; Learn we then for him to grow Ready, like the fieid we mow, 29 ! Swaths—lines of grass or corn cut down by the mower. 3 Lithemflexible, waving. 30 SELECT POETRY Like the bending barley lithe, Ready for the whetted scythe, Link-a-tink, rink-a-tink, rink-a-tink-a-tink ! Mary Howitt THE PET LAMB. Tue dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; I heard a voice; it said, “Drink, pretty creature, drink !” And looking o’er the hedge, before me I espied A snow-white mountain lamb, with a maiden at its side. No other sheep were near, the Jamb was all alone, And by a slender cord was tethered! to a stone ; With one knee on the grass did the little maiden kneel, While to that mountain lamb she gave its evening meal, "Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare ! I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair; And now with empty can the maiden turned away; But ere ten yards were gone, her footsteps did she stay. Towards the lamb she looked, and from that shady place I unobserved could see the workings of her face; 1 Tethered— fastened by a rope, FOR CHILDREN. 31 If nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring,! Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little maid might sing :— - “‘ What ails thee, young one? what? why pull so at thy cord? 1s it not well with thee, well both for bed and board ? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be ; Rest, little young one, rest, what is’t that aileth thee? What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart? Thy limbs are they not strong?—and beautiful thou art; This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers ;* And that green corn, all day, is rustling in thy ears! If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain, The beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain; For rain and mountain storms! the like tl ou need’st not fear— The rain and storm are things which scarcely can come here. Rest, little young one, rest! hast thou forgot the day When my father found thee first in places far away ? Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned by none; And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone. 1 If nature, &c.—if she could utter her feelings in verse. * Peers—equals. 32 SELECT POETRY He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home ; A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam P A faithful nurse thou hast, the dam that did thee yean ! Upon the mountain tops, no kinder could have been. Thou know’st that twice a day, I have brought thee in this can Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran: And twice, too, in the day, when the ground is wet with dew, I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is, and new. It will not, will not rest !— Poor creature, can it be That ‘tis thy mother’s heart that is working so in thee ? Things that I know not of, belike to thee are dear, And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor hear. Alas! the mountain tops, that look so green and fair! I’ve heard of fearful winds and darkness that come there ; The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play, When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey. Here thou need’st not fear the raven in the sky ; Night and day thou'rt safe—our cottage is hard by. Why bleat so after me? why pull so at thy chain? Sleep—and at break of day I will come to thee again !” Wordsworth. 1 That did thee yean—that gave birth to thee. FOR CHILDREN, 33 THE WEDDING AMONG THE FLOWERS! Tw grand convocation which Flora enacted, Where the business of all her domain was transacted, "Twas hinted, there yet remained one regulation To perfect her glorious administration. To some, strength and masculine beauty were given, Majestical air, and an eye meeting heaven ; Hidden virtues to many, to others perfume, ‘Through each variation of sweetness and bloom : *T was therefore suggested, with Flora’s compliance, To unite every charm in some splendid alliance. The royal assent to the motion was gained. *Twas passed at three sittings, and duly ordained. "Twas now most amusing to traverse the shade, And hear the remarks that were privately made: Such whispers, inquiries, and investigations ! Such balancing merits and marshalling stations ! The nobles protested they never would yield To debase their high sap with the weeds of the field ; For, indeed there was nothing so vulgar and rude, As to let every ill-bred young wildeflower intrude ; Their daughters should never dishonour their houses, By taking such rabble as these for their spouses ! 1 This elegant little poem, which was originally published in the year 1808, in a separate form, is reprinted here by the kind permission of the accomplished authoress—vow Mss. Gilbert, of Nottingham. 34 SELECT POETRY At length, my Lord SunrroweR, whom public opinion Confessed as the pride of the blooming dominion, Avowed an affection he'd often betrayed For sweet Lady Liiy, the queen of the shade; And said, should her friends nor the public with- stand, He would dare to solicit her elegant hand. A whisper, like that which on fine summer eves Young zephyrs address to the frolicsome leaves, Immediately ran through the whole congregation, Expressive of pleasure and high approbation. No line was degraded, no family pride Insulted, by either the bridegroom or bride; For in him all was majesty, beauty, and splendour, In her all was elegant, simple, and tender. Now nothing remained but to win her consent, And Miss Irs, her friend, as the messenger went, The arts of entreaty and argument trying, Till at length she returned, and announced her complying. Complete satisfaction the tidings conveyed, And whispers and dimples the pleasure displayed. Will Cocxscoms, indeed, and a few PowpERED Beaux, Who were not little vain of their figure and clothes, Looked down with chagrin which they could not disguise, That they were not fixed on to carry the prize. At length the young nobleman ventured to name The following spring, and supported his claim FOR CHILDREN, 35 By duly consul.ing a reverend Seer, DanDELION, who augured the wedding that year, Moved to give his opinion by breath of perfume, And nodding assent with his silvery plume. For licence, his lordship in person applied To the high Crown ImpzriaL, whose court he descried By the Goipen Rob, ensign of state, by his side. Returning from thence in the course of his journey, He ordered the deeds of Jonqutt, the attorney ; And anxious a speedy conclusion to bring, Set Love-Cuain and Go.p-Dust to work on the ring. Now April came garnished with smiles, and the da Was fixed for the first of luxuriant May. Along the green garden, in shade or in sun, All was business and bustle, and frolic and fun; For, as Flora had granted a full dispensation To all the gay tribes in her blooming creation, By which at the festival all might appear, Who else were on duty but parts of the year; There was now such a concourse of beauty and grace, As had not, since Eden, appeared in one place ; And cards were dispersed with consent of the fair, To every great family through the parterre.' There was one city lady, indeed, whom the bride Did not wish to attend, which was Miss Lonpon PRIDE: 1 Farterrs—ao flower-garder. 36 SELECT PUETRY And his lordship declared he would raiher not meet So doubtful a person as young BiTTER-sWERT. Sir Micuaztmas Daisy was asked to appear, But was gone out of town for best part of the year; And though he was sent for, Narcissus declined Out of pique, and preferred to keep sulking behind ; For, having beheld his fine form in the water, He thought himself equal to any flower’s daughter, ‘ And would not consent to increase a parade, The hero of which he himself should have made. Dr. CaMOMILE was to have been of the party, But was summoned to town to old Alderman Hearty. Old Axog, a worthy respectable don, Could not go in the clothes that just then he had on, And his tailor was such a slow fellow, he guessed That it might be a century before he was dressed.! Excuses were sent, too, from very near all The ladies residing at Great Green-house Hall, Who had been so confiued, were so chilly and spare, It might cost them their lives to be out in the air, The Sensitive Piant hoped her friend would excuse her, Tt thrilled every nerve in her frame to refuse her, But she did not believe she had courage to view The solemn transaction she’d summoned her to. Widow Watt had a ticket, but would not attend, For fear her low spirits should sadden her friend ; 1 Im allusion to the vulgar error, that the aloe requires a hundre years to arrive at maturity FOR CHILDREN. 37 And, too wild to regard either lady or lord, Honey-suck Le, as usual, was ding abroad. Notwithstanding all which, preparations were made In the very first style for the splendid parade. One CLotH-PLant, a clothier of settled repute, Undertook to provide every beau with a suit, Trimmed with BacneLors’-sutTtons, but these, I presume, Were rejected, as out of the proper costume. Miss Satin-FLoweR, fancy-dress-maker from town, Had silks of all colours and patterns sent down ; For which Lap1gs’-RIBBON could hardly prepare Her trimmings, so fast as bespoke by the fair. Two noted perfumers from Shrubbery Lane, Messrs. Musk-ROsE and LavENDER, essenced the train, And ere the last twilight of April expired, The whole blooming band was completely attired. At length the bright morning, with glittering eye, Peeped o’er the green earth from the rose-coloured sky; And soon as the lark flitted out of her nest, The bridal assembly was ready and dressed. Among the most lovely, far lovelier shone The bride, with an elegance purely her own; Her tall slender figure green tissue arrayed, With diamonds strung loose on the shining bro- cade; A cap of white velvet, in graceful costume, Adorned her fair forehead—a silvery plume x 38 SELECT POETRY Tipped with gold, from the centre half-negligent hung, With strings of white pearl scattered loosely among: The last (such as fairies are fancied to wear, ) Aurora! herself had disposed in her hair. To meet her and welcome the high omened day, The bridegroom stepped forth in majestic array— A rough velvet suit, mingled russet and green, Around his fine figure, broad flowing was seen ; His front, warm and manly, a diadem graced, Of regal appearance, resplendent as chaste ; The centre was puckered in velvet of brown, With golden vandykes, which encircled the crown. Since nature’s first morning, ne’er glittered a pair, The one so commanding, the other so fair ! Many ladies of fashion had offered to wait As bridemaids, the honour was reckoned so great ; These famed for their beauty, for fragrancy those, ANEMONE splendid, or sweet smelling RosE; But gentle and free from a tincture of pride, A sweet country cousin was called by the bride, Who long in a valley had sheltered unknown, Or was traced to the shade by her sweetness alone ; She timid appeared in the meekest array, With pearls of clear dew on an evergreen spray. Now moved .the procession from dressing-room bowers, A brilliant display of illustrious flowers: Young Hzarr’s-gassx in purple and gold ran befcre, To welcome them in at the great temple door; 1 Aurora—the goddess of the morning—the dawn. FOR CHILDREN. 39 Where old Bishop Monx’s-Hoop had taken his stand, To weave and to sanction the conjugal band : The trumpeter Suck1ine, with musical air, Preceded as herald ;—then came the young pair With little Miss Li1y, as bridemaid behind, Alone her fair head on her bosom reclined. The old Duke of Prony, richly arrayed In coquelicot,' headed the long cavalcade ; Duchess Dowager Ross leading up at his side, With her daughters, some blooming, some fair as the bride ; My Lady Carnation, excessively dashing, Rouged highly, and new in the Rotterdam fashion,? Discoursing of rank and of pedigree, came With a beau of distinction, Van TuL1p by name; Field-officer Poppy, in trim militaire ; An unfortunate youth, Hracintuvs the fair; With Major Convotvoxvs, fresh from parade, And his son, though a Minor, in purple cockade ; A pair from the country, affecting no show, Pretty Bersy the belle, and SwEET-WILLIAM the beau, Succeeded; and next, in the simplest attire, Miss JessaM1NE pale, and her lover SwEET-BRIER; AURICULA came, in puce velvet and white, With her spouse Potyantuvs, a rich city knight; 1 Coquelicot—the red poppy—here used to describe the colour of the dress. 2 Rotterdam—the carnation and tulip are especially culti- vated in Holland—hence the reference to Rotierdam, a town in that country, and to Van tulip, Van being a Dutch title Ct rank, 40 SELECT POETRY Messrs. Stocxs from 'Change Alley,! in crimson array ; The twin-brother Larxspurs, two fops of the day ; With light-hearted CotumB1NE, playing the fool, And footing away, like a frolic from school ; Then a distant relation, ‘twas said, of the bride, Watkr-Lizy, a nymph from the rivulet’s side; And last, hand-in-hand, at the end of the train, Vriozetta and Datsy, from Hazel-nut lane. Mezereon had fully designed to be there, But was ouly half dressed, and obliged to forbear ;? And the Evenine Primrose was pale with cha- grin That her cap did not come till the day had closed in. So each remained pouting behind in the shade, As winding along moved the brilliant parade. At length the fair temple appeared to their view, All blushing with beauty and spangled with dew: Tall hollyhock pillars encircled it round, With tendrils of pea and sweet eglantine® bound ; The roof was a trellis of myrtle and vine, Which knots and festoons of nasturtium combine: Surmounting each pillar, the cornice displayed The midsummer star-wort, relieving the shade; 1°Change Alley — for Exchange Alley, a passage neat where the old Royal Exchange stood, much frequented by dealers in Stock, as money is sometimes called. * The flowers of the mezereon appear on the naked stem, before the leaves are unfolded. 3 Eglantine—the sweet-brier. ‘ Trellisema lattice, or frame of cross-barred work of wood, &c. FOL CHILDREN. 4L And, wreathed into loops of the tenderest green, Antirrhinum waved loose to the zephyrs between. The passion-flower {ond to the portico clung, And guelder-rose glittered the foliage among 5 A mossy mosaic! the pavement displayed, With tufts of hepatica richly inlaid ; And high in the centre an altar was reared, Which wreathen with net-work of flowers ap- peared : Where sunbeams, by dews in the trellis condensed, From herbs aromatic sweet odours dispensed : Above were suspended the merry blue-bells, Holy rites to enliven with musical swells. And now the train enters, the altar burns bright, Fresh fragrance escapes from the centrical light; Before the green shrine, the young couple await Each form ceremonious ordained by the state ; And mystical vows understood but by flowers, Which elude observation of senses like ours. "Twas only perceived that the Bishop profound Clear dews from his urn sprinkled thrice on the ground ; And Zephyr, or some such invisible thing, Thrice fluttered the air with his butterfly wing. At length the rites closed in a grand benediction, And merriment burst without any restriction. Now blushed in the banquet along the parterre, Each dainty that nature or art could prepare :— 1 Mosaic—an imitation of a painting, made with pebble marbles, shells, or, as in the passage above, of moss of dif- ferent colours. E2 42 SELECT POETRY Damask Ross on the lawn had a table-cloth spread, The Fisesn Pxiant provided the dish at the head, And CornsorTrre furnished the table with bread. Housewife Burrercur sent a supply from her Churn ; The SNowpropP iced dews in a white Crocus urn; And Canpy Turt, skilled in the art of preserving, A splendid dessert had the honour of serving. Rosz Buraunpy, vintner, the goblet supplied With neat' foreign wines, and made? cowslip be- side ; CaMPANULa cups, filled with gentle spring rain, Were served to the ladies who wished for it plain. And all was so elegant, splendid, and rare, That I could not name half the fine things that were there. When jinished, Snap-pRaGons produced a good joke, And Rockets went up to amuse the young folk. In return for past favours, a band of young bees Hummed a midsummer tune through the neigh- bouring trees; And linnet and lark, as by accident, met And surprised the young pair with a charming duet, And now mirth and revelry were at their height, The little ones crept to the shade in affright; The ladies had danced in the heat of the sun, Till their dresses were limp and their spirits outdone; And Flora, who witnessed the scene with concern, Beckoned forward to Vesper,’ to empty her urn. 1 Neat-—pure, 2 Maide—that is, home-made. * fesper—the evening star--evening itself. FOR CHILDREN. 43 At once, as by magic, the merriment died, Not a whisper was heard, not a gambol was tried ! Returned to their stations in border or bed, Each shut up his eye, or hung graceful her head ; And those who had left foreign mountains and vales, Rode home in snug parties, on zephyrs and gales; So that ere the first star wandered out with a beam, They were all sound asleep, and beginning to dream ! Ann Taylor. JOHN BARLEYCORN. THERE went three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high ; And they have sworn a solemn oath, , John Barleycorn shall die. They took a plough and ploughed him down, Put clods upon his head ; And they have sworn a solemn oath, John Barleycorn was dead. But the cheerful spring came kindly on, And showers began to fall ; John Barleycorn got up again, And sore surprised them all. The sultry suns of summer came, And he grew thick and strong ; His head well armed with pointed spears, That no one should him wrong, . 44 SELECT POETRY The sober autumn entered mild, And he grew wan and pale; His bending joints and drooping head, Showed he began to fail. His colour sickened more and more, He faded into age ; And then his enemies began, To show their deadly rage. They took a weapon long and sharp, And cut him by the knee ; Then tied him fast upon a cart, Like a rogue for forgery. They laid him down upon his back, And cudgelled him full sore ; They hung him up before the storm, And turned him o’er and o’er. They filled up then a darksome pit With water to the brim ; And heaved in poor John Barleycorn, To let him sink or swim. They laid him out upon the floor, To work him further woe ; And still as signs of life appeared, They tossed him too and fro. They wasted o’er a scorching flame The marrow of his bones ; But the miller used him worst of all, For he crushed him between two stones, YOR CHILDREN. 45 And they have taken his very heart's blood, And drunk it round and round ;— And so farewell, John Barleycorn ! Thy fate thou now hast found. Burns. THE LADY-BIRD IN THE HOUSE. Ox ! lady-bird, lady-bird, why do you roam So far from your children, so far from your home P Why do you, who can revel all day in the air, And the sweets of the grove and the garden can share, In the fold of a leaf who can find a green bower, And a palace enjoy in the tube of a flower ,— Ah! why, simple lady-bird, why do you venture The dwellings of men so familiar! to enter ? Too soon you may find that your trust is misplaced, When by some cruel child you are wantonly chased; And your bright scarlet coat, so bespotted with black, Is torn by his barbarous hands from your back : Ah! then you'll regret you were tempted to rove From the tall climbing hop, or the hazel’s thick grove And will fondly remember each arbour and tree, Where lately you wandered contented and free :— Then fly, simple lady-bird !—fly away home, No more from your nest and your children to roam. Charlotte Smith. ) Familiar-—for familiarly. 46 SELECT POETRY THE LADY-BIRD IN THE FIELDS. Lapy-BirpD! lady-bird! fly away home, The field-mouse has 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! fly away home, The glow-worm is lighting his lamp ; The dew’s falling fast, and your fine speckled wings Will be wet with the close-clinging damp. Lady-bird ! lady-bird! fly away home, The fairy-bells tinkle afar; Make haste, or they'll catch you; and harness you fast, With a cobweb to Oberon’s! car. TO A BEE. Tuov wert out betimes, thou busy, busy bee! When abroad I took my early way, Before the cow from her resting-place Had risen up, and left her trace On the meadow with dew so grey, I saw thee, thou busy, busy bee! Thou wert alive, thou busy, busy bee! When the crowd in their sleep were dead 3 4 Oberon—the king of the fairies. FOR CHILDREN. AT Thou wert abroad in the freshest hour, When the sweetest odour comes from the flower ; Man will not learn to leave his bed, And be wise and copy thee, thou busy, busy bee ! Thou wert working late, thou busy, busy bee! After the fall of the cistus flower ;' When the evening primrose was ready to burst; I heard thee last, as I saw thee first ; In the silence of the evening hour, I heard thee, thou busy, busy bee! Thou art a miser, thou busy, busy bee f Late and early at employ ; : Still on thy golden stores intent, Thy summer in heaping and hoarding is spent What thy winter will never enjoy ; Wise lesson this for me, thou busy, busy bee ! Little dost thou think, thou busy, busy bee ! What is the end of thy toil ; When the latest flowers of the ivy are gone, And all thy work for the year is done, Thy master comes for the spoil ;— Woe then for thee, thou busy, busy bee ! Southey. THE FROST. TueE Frost looked forth, one still clear night, And whispered, “ Now I shall be out of sight; So through the valley and over the height, In silence I'll take my. way : 1 The gum cistus flower lives but one day, 48 SELECT POETRY I will not go on like that blustering train, The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, Whe make so much bustle and noise in vain, But I'll be as busy as they.” Then he flew to the mountain and powdered its crest He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed In diamond beads—and over the breast Of the quivering lake he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear The downward point of many a spear That he hung on its margin, far and near, Where a rock could rear its head. He went to the windows of those who slept, And over each pane, like a fairy, crept ; Wherever he breathed, wherever he stept, By the light of the moon were seen Most beautiful things :—there were flowers and trees 5 There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees; There were cities with temples and towers and these All pictured in silver sheen !! But he did one thing that was hardly fair; He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there That all had forgotten for him to prepare— «‘ Now just to set them a thinking, I'll bite this basket of fruit,” said he, *‘ This costly pitcher I'll burst in three, And the glass of water they've left for me Shall * tchick !’ to tell them I’m drinking.” Miss Gould, 1 Sheen —brightness, splendour. FOR CHILDREN 49 THE LION. Lrow, thou are girt with might! King by uncontested right ; Strength, and majesty, and pride, Are in thee personified ! Slavish doubt, or timid fear, Never came thy spirit near; What it is to fly, or bow To a mightier than thou, Never has been known to thee, Creature, terrible and free ! Power the mightiest gave the Lion Sinews like the bands of iron; Gave him force which never failed ; Gave a heart that never quailed.! Triple-mailéd* coat of steel, Plates of brass from head to heel, Less defensive were* in wearing, Than the Lion’s heart of daring; Nor could towers of strength impart Trust like that which keeps his heart When he sends his roaring forth, Silence falls upon the earth ; For the creatures, great and small, Know his terror-breathing call ; And, as if by death pursued, Leave to him a solitude. 1 Quailed—sunk into dejection. . ® Mailéd—covered with armour. This word must be here ‘pronounced, in two syllables, for the sake of the verse. 2 Were—would be. r 50 SELECT POETRY Lion, thou art made to dwell Tn hot lands, intractable, And thyself, the sun, the sand, Are a tyrannous triple band ;'!— Lion-king and desert throne, All the region is your own ! Mary Howitt. eee THE BEGGAR MAN. Anounp 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 to implore :— Cold blows the blast across the moor ; The sleet drives hissing in the wind 5 Yon toilsome mountain lies before ; A dreary, treeless waste behind. “¢ My eyes are weak and dim with age 3 No road, no path, can I descry ; And these poor rags ill stand the rage Of such a keen, inclement sky. So faint I am, these tottering feet No more my feeble frame can bear 5 1 Tyrannous triple band—a threefold band of tytaate— band of three tyrants. YOR CHILDREN. 51 My sinking heart forgets to beat, And drifting snows my tomb prepare. “ Open your hospitable door, And shield me from the biting blast ; Cold, cold it blows across the moor, The weary moor that I have past !” With hasty steps the farmer ran, And close beside the fire they place The poor half-frozen beggar man, With shaking limbs and pallid face. The little children flocking came, And warmed his stiffening hands in theirs ; And busily the good old dame A comfortable mess prepares. 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. A thin. THE WORM ; OR, THE DUTY OF HUMANITY. Torn, turn thy hasty foot aside, Nor crush that helpless worm ! The frame thy wayward looks deride, Required a God to form. 52 SELECT POETRY The common Lord of all that move, From whom thy being flowed, A portion of His boundless love On that poor worm bestowed. The sun, the moon, the stars, he made For all his creatures free ; And spread v’er earth the grassy blade, For worms as well as thee. Let them enjoy their little day, Their humble bliss receive : Oh! do not lightly take away The life thou canst not give. Gisborne. THE YOUTHFUL KING. SUJGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF EDWARD VI. IN HIS ROYAL ROBES. Mowarcg, pictured here in state, Better honours far were thine Than the grandeur of the great, Than the jewels of the mine, Born to govern and command, Thou wast easy of control ; With a sceptre in thy hand, There was meekness in thy soul, Of thy haughty father’s frown Little on thy brow we trace, And that little softened down By simplicity and grace. FOR CHILDREN. 53 Child in age and child in heart, Gold, and gems, and bright array, Could not joy or pride impart ; Thou hadst treasures more than they ;— More than courtiers kneeling low ; More than flattery’s ready smile ; More than conquest o’er the foe ; ‘ More, even more, than England’s isle :-— Treasures in which mind hath part; - . Joys that teach the soul to rise ; Hopes that can sustain the heart When the body droops and dies. Therefore, star, thou art not shaded By the darkness of the tomb ! Royal rose ! thou art not faded, In heaven, we trust, thou still dost bloom. Miss Jewsbury. THE KITTENS AND THE VIPER. CuosE by the threshold of a door nailed fast Three kittens sat; each kitten looked aghast ; I, passing swift and inattentive by, At the three kittens cast a careless eye ; Little concerned to know what they did there ; Not deeming kittens worth a poet’s care. But presently a loud and furious hiss Caused me to stop, and to exclaim,“ What's this?” When lo! with head erect and fiery eye, A dusky viper on the ground I spy. ¥2 54 SELECT POETRY Forth from his head his forked tongue he throws, Darting it full against a kitten’s nose ! Who, never having seen in field or house The like, sat still and silent as a mouse ; Only projecting, with attention due, Her whiskered face, she asked him, “ Who are you?” On to the hall went I, with pace not slow But swift as lightning, for a long Dutch hoe; With which, well armed, I hastened to the spot To find the viper ;—but I found him not; And turning up the leaves and shrubs around, Found only—that he was not to be found. But still the kittens sitting as before, Were watching close the bottom of the door. * I hope,” said I, “ the villian 1 would kill Has slipped between the door and the door-sill ; And if I make despatch, and follow hard No doubt but I shall find him in the yard.” (For long ere now it should have been rehearsed, *Twas in the garden that I found him first.) Ev’n there I found him, there the full-grown cat His head, with velvet paw, did gently pat; As curious as the kittens erst! had been To learn what this phenomenon? might mean. Filled with heroic ardour at the sight, And fearing every moment he would bite, And rob our household of the only cat That was of age to combat with a rat, With outstretched hoe I slew him at the door, And taught him never TO COME THERE NO MORE! Cowper. 1 Erst—before, formerly. ? Phenomenon—an appearance, n remarkable appearance—the plural is phenomena. FOR CHILDREN. 55 THE BIRD CAUGHT AT SEA. Pretty little feathered fellow, Why so far from home dost rove? What misfortune brought thee hither From the green, embowering grove? Let thy throbbing heart be still ; Here secure from danger rest thee ; No one here shall use thee ill, Here no cruel boy molest thee. Barley-corns and crumbs of bread, Crystal! water, too, shall cheer thee ; On soft sails recline thy head, Sleep, and fear no danger near thee: And when kindly winds shall speed us To the land we wish to see, Then, sweet captive, thou shalt leave us,— Then amidst the groves be free. A. Hiil, THE THRUSH. How void of care yon merry thrush, That sings melodious in the bush, That has no stores of wealth to keep, No lands to plough, no corn to reap ! He never frets for worthless things, - But lives in peace, and sweetly sings; Enjoys the present with his mate; Unmindful of to-morrow’s fate. * Crystal—a transparent mineral—crystal water—~Water a6 clear as crystal. 56 SELECT POETRY Of true felicity possessed, He glides through life supremely blest 5 And for his daily meal relies On Him whose love the world supplies. Rejoiced he finds his morning fare, His dinner lies—he knows not where; Still to the unfailing hand he chants His grateful song, and never wants. Williams, THE LULLABY. Sizzp, my child, my darling child, my lovely child, sleep : The sun sleepeth upon the green fields ; The moon sleepeth upon the blue waves ; The morning sleepeth upon a bed of roses ; The evening sleepeth on the tops of the dark hills 5 The winds sleep in the hollow of the rocks; The stars sleep upon a pillow of clouds :— Sleep, my child, my darling child, my lovely child, sleep. The mist sleepeth in the bosom of the valley, And the broad lake under the shadow of the trees ; The flowers sleep while the night dew falls, And the wild bird sleeps upon the mountain :-—4 Sleep in quiet, sleep in joy, my darling, May thy sleep never be the sleep of sorrow! Sleep, my child, my darling child, my lovely child, sleep, FOR CHILDREN. 57 A SNAKE IN THE GRASS: A TALE FOUNDED ON FACTS. Sue had a secret of her own, That little girl of whom we speak, O’er which she oft would muse alone, Till the blush came across her cheek ; A rosy cloud that glowed awhile, Then melted in a sunny smile. There was so much to charm the eye, So much to move delightful thought, Awake at night she loved to lie, Darkness to her that image brought ; She murmured of it in her dreams, Like the low sound of gurgling streams What secret thus the soul possessed Of one so young and innocent P Oh! nothing but a robin’s nest, O’er which in ecstacy she bent ;— That treasure she herself had found, With five brown eggs, upon the ground. When first it flashed upon her sight, Bolt flew the dam above her head ; She stooped, and almost shrieked with fright ; But spying soon that little bed, With feathers, moss, and horse-hairs twined, Rapture and wonder filled her mind. Breathless and beautiful she stood, Her ringlets o’er her bosom fell, With hands uplift, in attitude As though a pulse might break the spell, 58 SELECT POETRY While through the shade, her pale, fine face Shone like a star amidst the place. She stood so silent, stayed so long, The parent birds forgot their fear, Cock-robin trolled his small sweet song, In notes like dew-drops, trembling, clear ; From spray to spray the shyer hen Dropped softly on her nest again. There Lucy marked her slender bill On this side, and on that her tail Peered o’er the edge—while, fixed and still, Two bright black eyes her own assail, Which in eye-language seemed to say, « Peep, pretty maiden, then away !” Away, away, at length she crept, So pleased, she knew not how she trode, Yet light on tottering tip-toe stept, As if birds’ eggs strewed all the road: With folded arms and lips comprest, To keep her joy within her breast. Morn, noon, and eve, from day to day, By stealth she visited that spot: Alike her lessons and her play, Were slightly conned, or half forgot; And when the callow young were hatched, With infant fondness Lucy watched :— Watched the kind parents dealing food To clamorous suppliants all agape ; Watched the small, naked, unformed brood Improve in size, in plume, and shape, FOR CHILDREN. 59 Till feathers clad the fluttering things, And the whole group seemed bills and wings. Unconsciously within her breast, Where many a brooding fancy lay, She planned to bear the tiny nest And chirping choristers away, In stately cage to tune their throats, And learn untaught their mother-notes. One morn, when fairly fledged for flight, Blithe Lucy, on her visit, found What seemed a necklace, glittering bright, T'wined round the nest, twined round and round, With emeralds, pearls, and saphires set, Rich as my lady’s coronet. She stretched her hand to seize the prize, When up a serpent popped its head, But glid like wild-fire from her eyes, Hissing and rustling as it fled ; She uttered one short, thrilling scream, Then stood, as startled from a dream. Her brother Tom who long had known That something drew her feet that way, Curious to catch her there alone, Had followed her that fine May-day ; Lucy, bewildered by her trance, Came to herself*at his first glance. Then in her eyes sprang welcome tears, They fell as showers in April fall; He kissed her, coaxed her, soothed her fears Till she in frankness told him all: 60 SELECT POETRY Tom was a bold adventurous boy, And heard the dreadful tale with joy. For he had learnt—in some far land, How children catch the sleeping snake; Eager himself to try his hand, He cut a hazel from the brake, And like a hero set to work, To make a stout, long-handled fork. Brother and sister then withdrew, Leaving the nestlings safely there ; Between their heads the mother flew, Prompt to resume her nursery care ; But Tom, whose breast for glory burned, In less than half an hour returned. With him came Ned, as cool and sly As Tom was resolute and stout, So, fair and softly, they drew nigh, Cowering! and keeping sharp look-out Till they had reached the copse, to see But not alarm the enemy. Guess with what transport they descried How, as before, the serpent lay Coiled round the nest, in slumbering pride; The urchins chuckled o’er their prey, And Tom’s right hand was lifted soon, Like Greenland whaler’s with harpoon.* Across its neck the fork he brought, And pinned it fast upon the ground ; Cowering—sinking by bending the knees, Harpoon—a dart to strike whales with. FOR CHILDREN. 61 The reptile woke, and quick as thought, Curled round the stick, curled round and round, While head and tail Ned’s nimble hands Tied at each end with packthread bands, Scarce was the enemy secured, When Lucy timidly drew near, But, by their shouting well assured, Eyed the green reptile without fear; The lads, stark wild with victory, flung Their caps aloft—they danced, they sung. But Lucy with an anxious look Turned to her own dear nest, when lo! To legs and wings the young ones took, Hopping and tumbling to and fro; The parents chattering from above, With all the earnestness of love. Alighting now among their train, They pecked them on new feats to try, But many a lesson seemed in vain Before the giddy things would fly. Lucy both laughed and cried to see How ill they played at liberty. I need not tell the snake’s sad doom, You may be sure he lived not long; Corked in a bottle, for a tomb, Preserved in spirits and in song, His skin in Tom’s museum shines, You read his story in these lines. Montgomery. —————. Qa 62 SELECT PORTRY THE MOUSE’S PETITION: FOUND IN THE TRAP, WHERE HE HAD BEEN CONFINED ALL NIGHT. Ou, hear a pensive prisoner's prayer, For liberty that sighs ; And never let thy heart be shut Against the wretch’s cries ! For here folorn 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 thine unrelenting heart That slender boon deny,— The cheerful light, the vital air, Are blessings widely given ; Let nature’s commoners? enjoy Tho common gifts of heaven. t Wiles—snares, 3 Nature’s commoners—thoase who have a common right in nature’s gifts. FOR CHILDREN. °* 63: The well-taught philosophic mind To all compassion gives, Casts round the world an equal‘ eye, And feels for all that lives. Barbauld. THE PRISONER, TO A ROBIN WHO CAME TO HIS WINDOW. Wetcome! welcome! little stranger, Welcome to my lone retreat ! Here secure from every danger, Hop about, and chirp, and eat :— Robin! how I envy thee, Happy child of liberty ! Hunger never shall distress thee, While my meals one crumb afford, Colds and cramps shall ne’er oppress thee, Come and share my humble board : Robin, come and live with me, Live, yet still at liberty. Soon shall spring with smiles and blushes, Steal upon the blooming year; : Then amid the verdant bushes, ; Thy sweet song shall warble clear ,— Then shall I too, joined with thee, Taste the sweets of liberty. Should some rough, unfeeling Dobbin, In this iron-hearted age, 1 Equal—impartial, just. 2 Dobbin—a word chosen to express a rude, inhuman fellow. 64 SELECT POETRY Seize thee on thy nest, my Robin, And confine thee in a cage; Then, poor Robin, think of me, Think—and sigh for liberty. Liberty! thou brightest treasure In the crown of earthly joys, Source of gladness, soul of pleasure. All delights besides are toys: None but prisoners like me Know the worth of liberty. Montgomery. LOVING AND LIKING. ADDRESSED TO A CHILD. Say not you love a roasted fowl, But you may love a screaming ow), And, if you can, the unwieldy toad That crawls from his secure abode, Within the grassy garden wall, When evening dews begin to fall. Oh! mark the beauty of his eye, What wonders in that circle lie! - So clear, so bright, our fathers said He wears a jewel in his head ! And when, upon some showery day, Into a path or public way, A frog leaps out from bordering grass Startling the timid as they pass, Do you observe him, and endeavour To take the intruder into favour ; Learning from him to find a reasou For a light heart in a dull season. ¥OR CHILDREN. 65 And you may love the strawberry flower, And love the strawberry in its bower: But when the fruit, so often praised For beauty, to your lip is raised, Say not you love the delicate treat, But like it, enjoy it, and thankfully eat. Miss Wordsworth. THE SWALLOW. Swa.tow! that on rapid wing Sweep’st along in sportive ring, Now here, now there, now low, now high, Chasing keen the painted fly ;— , Could I skim away with thee Over land and over sea, What streams would flow, what cities rise, What landscapes dance before mine eyes! First from England’s southern shore *Cross the Channel we would soar, And our venturous course advance To the plains of sprightly France ; Sport among the feathered choir On the verdant banks of Loire ; Skim Garonne’s majestic tide, Where Bourdeaux adorns his side Cross the towering Pyrenees, ’*Mid myrtle groves and orange trees $ Enter then the wild domain Where wolves prowl round the flocks of Spain, G2 66 SELECT POETRY Where silk-worms spin, and olives grow, And mules plod surely on and slow. Steering thus for many a day Far to south our course away, From Gibraltar’s rocky steep Dashing o’er the foaming deep, On sultry Afric’s fruitful shore We'd rest at length, our journey o’er, Till vernal gales should gently play To waft us on our homeward way. Aikin. OLD CHRISTMAS. Now he who knows old Christmas He knows a carle! of worth; For he is as good a fellow, As any upon the earth! He comes warm cloaked and coated, And buttoned up to the chin ; And soon as he comes a-nigh the door, *T will open and let him in. We know that he will not fail us, So we sweep the hearth up clean ; We set him in the.old arm chair, And a cushion whereon to lean. And with gprigs of holly and ivy We make the house look gay; 1 Carle—~a ‘robust, strong, hearty fellow. FOR CHILDREN. 67 Just out of an old regard to him,— For it was his ancient way. He comes with a cordial voice, | That does one good to hear; He shakes one heartily by the hand, As he hath done many a year. And after the little children He asks in a cheerful tone, “ack, Kate, and little Annie,— He remembers them every one ! What a fine old fellow he is! With his faculties all as clear, And his heart as warm and light, As a man in his fortieth year! What a fine old fellow, in troth,! Not one of your griping elves,* Who, with plenty of money to spare, Think only about themselves. Not he! for he loveth the children, And holiday begs for all ; And comes yrith his pockets full of gifts, For the great ones and the small ! And he tells us witty old stories ; And singeth with might and main; And we talk of the old man’s visit Till the day that he comes again ! ry Howitt. Troth—Truth. *Elves—plural of elf, which properly means a fairy or spirit ; sometimes, as here, an unnatural kind of being, one different from men in general. 68. SELECT POETRY TO A HEDGE SPARROW. Lirrzz flutterer ! swiftly flying, Here is none to harm thee near; Kite, nor hawk, nor schoolboy prying ;— Little flutterer! cease to fear. One who would protect thee ever From the schoolboy, kite, and hawk, Musing, now obtrudes, but never Dreamt of plunder in his walk. He no weasel, stealing slily, Would permit thy eggs to takes Nor the polecat, nor the wily Adder, nor the speckled snake. May no cuckoo, wandering near thee, Lay her egg within thy nest; Nor thy young ones, born to cheer thee, Be destroyed by such a guest !! Little flutterer ! swiftly flying, Here is none to harm thee near; Kite, nor hawk, nor schoolboy prying ;— Little flutterer cease to fear. 1 The cuckoo usually deposits her egg in the nest of the hedge-sparrow, who hatches it, and tends the young one as her own—a service which it repays by speedily turning out all the other nestlings, FOR CHILDREN. 69 THE MOSS-ROSE. FROM THE GERMAN OF KERUMMACHER. Tue Angel of the flowers, one day, Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay ; That spirit to whose charge ‘tis given To bathe young buds in dews of heaven ;— Awaking from his light repose, The Angel whispered to the rose: **O fondest object of my care, Still fairest found, where all are fair ; For the sweet shade thou givest to me, Ask what thou wilt, ‘tis granted thee!” “ Then,” said the rose, with deepened glow, **On me another grace bestow :” The spirit paused in silent thought,— What grace was there that flower had not ? Twas but a moment—o’er the rose A veil of moss the Angel throws, And, robed in nature's simplest weed, Could there a flower that rose exceed ? SUMMER EVENING AT THE FARM. Down the deep and miry lane, Creaking comes the empty wain ; And driver on the shaft-horse sits, Whistling now and then by fits; And oft, with his accustomed call. Urging on the sluggish Ball. 70 SELECT POETRY The barn is still, the master’s gone The thresher puts his jacket on, While Dick upon the ladder tall, Nails the dead kite to the wall. Here comes shepherd Jack at last, He has penned the sheep-cote fast ; For ‘twas but two nights before, A lamb was eaten on the moor: His empty wallet Rover carries, Nor for Jack, when near home, tarries ; With lolling tongue he runs to try If the horse-trough be not dry. The milk is settled in the pans, And supper messes in the cans In the hovel carts are wheeled, And both the colts are driven a-field The snare for Mister Fox is set, The leaven laid, the thatching wet, And Bess is slunk away to talk With Roger, in the holly-walk. Kirke White. MORNING OR EVENING HYMN. Great God! how endless is thy love! Thy gifts are every evening new, And morning mercies from above Gently distil, like early dew. Thou spread’st the curtains of the night, Great guardian of my sleeping hours ! FOR CHILDREN. 71 Thy sovereign word restores the light, And quickens all my drowsy powers. | I yield my powers to thy command, To thee I consecrate my days; Perpetual blessings from thy hand Demand perpetual songs of praise. Watts. THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM. A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long Had cheered the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended, Began to feel,—as well he might,— The keen demands of appetite ; When, looking eagerly around, He spied, far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glow-worm by his spark, So, stooping down from hawthorn top, — He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, quite eloquent— “ Did you admire my lamp,” quoth he, « As much as I your minstrelsy, You would abhor to do me wrong, As much as I to spoil your song ; For twas the self-same power divine Taught you to sing, and me to shine; . That you with music, I with light, Might beautify and cheer the night,” 72 SELECT POETRY The songster heard his short oration, And, warbling out his approbation, Released him as my story tells, And found a supper somewhere else, Cowper MORAL." From this short fable, youth may learn Their real interest to discern ; That brother should not strive with brother, And worry and oppress each other, But, joined in unity and peace, Their mutual happiness increase : Well pleased another's faults to hide, And in his virtues feel a pride. WE ARE SEVEN; OR, A CHILD'S NOTION OF DEATH. A simple child That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage girl, ‘Sho was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad : Her eyes were fair, and very fair, —Her beauty made me glad. 1 The moral here given is hy. au unknown hand ¥OR CHILDREN, 73 * Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?” “ How many ? Seven in all,” she said, And, wondering, looked at me. “ And where are they. I pray you tell.” She answered, “ Seven are we; And two of us at Conway! dwell, And two are gone to sea. “ Two of us in the church-yard lie, My sister and my brother ; « And in the church-yard cottage, I Dwell near them with ny mother,” « You say that two at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea; Yet you are seven !—I pray you tell, Sweet maid, how this may be.” Then did the little maid reply, «Seven boys and girls are we ; Two of us in the church-yard lie, Beneath the church-yard tree. « You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive ; If two are in the church-yard laid, Then you are only five.” “ Their graves are green, they may be seen,” The little maid replied, Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door, And they are side by side. Conway—or more properly, Conwy, a town in North Wales, situated near the mouth of the river Conwy. aL 74 SELECT POETRY “ My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem ; And there upon the ground I sit— I sit and sing to them. « And, often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there, “ The first that died was little Jane; *In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain, And then she went away. * So in the church-yard she was laid ; And all the summer dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. “¢ And when the ground was white with snew, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.” “ How many are you then,” said I ‘* If they two are in heaven ?” The little maiden did reply, “O master ! we are seven.” “ But they are dead; those two are dead; Their spirits are in heaven !” “Twas throwing words away ; for still The little maid would have her will, And said, “ Nay, we are seven.” Wordsworth FOR CHILDREN. 75 THE MILKMAID. A MILEMAID, who poised a full pail on her head, Thus mused on her prospects in life, it is said : “ Let me see—I should think that this milk will procure One hundred good eggs, or fourscore, to be sure. _ * Well then—stop-a-bit—it must not be forgotten, Some of these may be broken, and some may be rotten ; But if twenty for accident should be detached, It will leave me just sixty suund eggs to be hatched. “ Well, sixty sound eggs—no, sound chickens, I mean : Of these some may die—we'll suppose seventeen, Seventeen ! not so many—say ten at the most, Which will leave fifty chickens to boil or to roast. “But then, there's their barley, how much will they need ? Why they take but one grain at. a time when they feed— a So that’s a mere trifle; now then, let us see, At a fair market price how much money there'll be. “Six shillings a pair—five—four—three-and-six, To prevent all mistakes, that low price I will fix: 76 SELECT POETRY Now what will that make ? fifty chickens, I said— Fifty times three-and-sixpence—I’ll ask brother Ned. “O! but stop—three-and-sixpence a pair I must sell ’em; Well, a pair is a couple—now then let us tell ‘em; A couple in fifty will go—(my poor brain !) Why just a score times, and five pair will remain. “Twenty-five pair of fowls—now how tiresome it is That I can’t reckon up such money as this ! Well there’s no use in trying, so let's give a guess— I'll say twenty pounds, and it can’t be no less. “Twenty pounds, I am certain, will buy me a cow, Thirty geese and two turkeys—eight pigs anda SOW; Now if these turn out well, at the end of the year, T shall fill both my pockets with guineas, ‘tis clear.” Forgetting her burden, when this she had said, The maid superciliously! tossed up her head , When, alas! for her prospects —her milk-pail descended, And so all her schemes for the future were ended. This moral, I think, may be safely attached,— Reckon not on your chickens before they are hatched.” Jeffreys Taylor. ! Superciliously—consequentially, contemptuoualy. FOR CHILDREN, 77 THE GOLDFINCH STARVED IN HIS CAGE. . Timez was when I was free as air, The thistle’s downy seed my fare, My drink the morning dew ; 1 perched at will on every spray, My form genteel, my plumage gay, My strains for ever new. But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain, And form genteel, were all in vain, And of a transient date ;' For, caught, and caged, and starved to death, In dying sighs my little breath Soon passed the wiry grate. Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes And thanks for this effectual close And cure of every ill! More cruelty could none express , And I, if you had shown me less, Had been your prisoner still. Cowz 27. THE WIND IN A FROLIC. Tue wind one morning sprang up from sleep, Saying, “ Now for a frolic! now for a leap ! Now for a mad-cap galloping chase ! I'll make a commotion in every place !” 2 Of a transient date—of short duration. H 2 78 SELECT POETRY So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, Cracking the signs and scattering down Shutters ; and whisking, with merciless squalls, Old women’s bonnets and gingerbread stalls. There never was heard a much lustier shout, As the apples and oranges trundled about ; And the urchins that stand with their thievish eyes For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize. Then away to the field it went, blustering and humming, . And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming; It plucked by the tails the grave matronly cows, And tossed the colts’ manes all about their brows ; Till, offended at such an unusual salute, They all turned their backs, and stood sulky and mute. So on it went capering and playiug its pranks, Whistling with reeds on the broad river's banks, Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray. Or the traveller grave on the king’s highway. It was not too nice to hustle the bags Of the beggar, aud flutter his dirty rags ; *Twas so bold, that it feared not to play its joke With the doctor’s wig or the gentleman’s cloak. Through the forest it roared, and cried, gaily, « Now, , You sturdy old oaks, I'll make you bow !” And it made them bow without more ado, Or it cracked their great branches through and through. ¥OR CHILDREN. 79 Then it rushed like a monster on cottage az.d farm, Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm ; And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm ; There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps, To see if their poultry were free from mishaps ; The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud, And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd ; There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on, Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone. But the wind had swept on, and had met ina lane With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain ; For it tossed him and twirled him, then passed, and he stood With his hat in a pool and his shoes in the mud. Then away went the wind in its holiday glee, And now it was far on the billowy sea, And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow, And the little boats darted to and fro. But lo! it was night, and it sank to rest On the sea-bird’s rock in the gleaming west, Laughing to think, in its fearful fun, How little of mischief it had done. William Howitt. 80 SELECT POETRY THE COMPLAINTS OF THE POOR. “‘ AND wherefore do the poor complain P” The rich man asked of me ;— * Come walk abroad with me,” I said, * And I will answer thee.” ’Twas evening, and the frozen streets Were cheerless to behold ; And we were wrapped and coated well, And yet we were a-cold. We met an old, bare-headed man, His locks were few and white; I asked him what he did abroad In that cold winter’s night. Twas bitter keen, indeed, he said, But at home no fire had he, And therefore he had come abroad To ask for charity. We met a young barefooted child, And she begged loud and bold ; I asked her what she did abroad When the wind it blew so cold. She said her father was at home, And he lay sick in bed; And therefore was it she was sent Abroad to beg for bread. We saw a woman sitting down Upon a stone to rest ; She had a baby at her back And another at her breast, FOR CHILDREN. 81 I asked her why she loitered there, When the night-wind was so chili; She turned her head, and bade the child That screamed behind, be still. She told us that her husband served, | A soldier, far away ; And therefore to her parish she Was begging back her way. I turned me to the rich man then, For silently stood he ;— * You asked me why the poor complain, And these have answered thee !” Southey. CHILDHOOD'S SPORTS. ’NzatH yonder elm, that stands upon the moor, When the clock spoke the hour of labour o’er, What clamorous throngs, what happy groups were seen, In various postures scattering o’er the green ! Some shoot the marble, others join the chase Of self-made stag, or run the emulous race ; While others, seated on the dappled! grass, With doleful tales the light-winged minutes pass. Well I remember how, with gesture starched, A band of soldiers, oft with pride we marched ; For banners, to a tall ash we did bind Our kerchiets, flapping to the whistling wind ; t Dappled—of different colours, streaked. 82 SELECT POETRY And for our warlike arms we sought the mead, And guns and spears we made of brittle reed: Then, in uncouth array, our feats to crown, We stormed some ruined pig-stye for a town. Kirke White. THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE. A FORWARD hare, of swiftness vain, The genius of the neighbouring plain, Would oft deride the drudging crowd ;— For geniuses are ever proud. He'd boast his flight ’twere vain to follow, For dog and horse he'd beat them hollow ;— Nay, if he put forth all his strength, Outstrip his brethren half a length. A tortoise heard his vain oration, And vented thus his indignation : *O puss! it bodes thee dire disgrace When I defy thee to the race. Come, ‘tis a match; nay, no denial, I lay my shell upon the trial.” *T was ‘ done ’ and ‘ done,’ ¢ all fair,’ ‘a bet,”? Judges prepared, and distance set. The scampering hare outstripped the wind; The creeping tortoise lagged behind, And scarce had passed a single pole When puss had almost reached the goal.? ' Done, &c.—~terms used on the race-course, * Goul—the point to which racers run. FOR CHILDREN. 83 “ Friend tortoise,” quoth the jeering hare, * Your burden’s more than you can bear ; To help your speed it were as well That I should ease you of your shell ; Jog on a little faster, prithee ;' I'll take a nap and then be with thee.” The tortoise heard his taunting jeer, But still resolved to persevere ; On to the goal securely crept, While puss, unknowing, soundly slept, The bets were won, the hare awoke, When thus the victor tortoise spoke : * Puss, though I own thy quicker parts, Things are not always done by starts: You may deride my-awkward pace ; But slow and steady wins the race !” Lloyd, A CHARADE. PRonovNcED as one letter, and written with three, Two letters there are and two only in me; I'm double, I’m single, I’m black, blue, and grey, I am read from both ends, and the same either way. I am reatless and wandering, steady and fixed, And you know not one hour what I may be the next, I melt and I kindle, beseech and defy, I am watery and moist, I am fiery and dry. 1 Prithee—I pray thee. 84 SELECT POETRY I am scornful and scowling, compassionate, meek, I am light, I am dark, I am strong, I am weak. I’m piercing and clear, I am heavy and dull, Expressive and languid, contracted and full. I’m a globe and a mirror, a window,-a door, An index, an organ, and fifty things more. 1 belong to all animals under the sun, And to those which were long understood to have none. By some I am said to exist in the mind, And am found in potatoes, and needles, and wind Three jackets I own, of glass, water, and horn, And I wore them all three on the day 1 was born. I am covered quite snug, have a lid and a fringe, Yet I move every way on invisible hinge. A pupil I have, a most whimsical wight, Who is little by day, and grows big in the night, Whom I cherish with care as a part of myself; For in truth I depend on this delicate elf, Who collects all my food, and with wonderful knack Throws it into a net, which J keep at my back; And though heels over head it arrives, in a trice It is sent up to table all proper and nice. I am spoken of sometimes, as if I were glass, But then it is false, and the trick will not pass. A blow makes me run though I have not a limb; Though I neither have fins, nor a bladder, I swim. Like many more couples, my partner and I At times will look cross at each other, and shy ; Yet still though we differ in what we're about, One will do all the work when the other {s out. 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. SELECT POETRY MARION LEE, Nor a care hath Marion Lee, Dwelling by the sounding sea ! Her young life’s a flowery way :— Without toil from day to day. Without bodings for the morrow— Marion was not made for sorrow ! Like the summer-billows wild, Leaps the happy-hearted child ; Sees her father’s fishing boat O’er the waters gaily float ; Hears her brother's fishing song On the light gale borne along ; Haif a league she hears the lay, Ere they turn into the bay, And with glee, o’er cliff and main, Sings an answer back again, Which by man and boy is heard, Like the carol of a bird. Look, she sitteth laughing there, Wreathing sea-weed in her hair; Saw ye e’er a thing so fair ? Mary Howitt. HARVEST HOME. Hark! from woodlands far away, Sounds the merry roundelay ; Now across the russet plain, Slowly moves the loaded wain, Greet the reapers as they come— Happy, happy harvest home ! FOR CHILDREN. 87 Never fear the wintry blast, Summer suns will shine at last; See the golden grain appear, See the produce of the year. Greet the reapers as they come,— Happy, happy harvest home ! Children join the jocund ring, Young and old come forth and sing; Stripling blithe, and maiden gay, Hail the rural holiday. Greet the reapers as they come,— Happy, happy harvest home ! Peace and plenty be our lot, All the pangs of war forgot ; Strength to toii, and ample store, Bless Old England evermore. Greet the reapers as they come,— Happy, happy harvest home ! KING CANUTE Upon his royal throne he sat, In a monarch’s thoughtful mood ; Attendants on his regal state His servile courtiers stood, With foolish flatteries, false and vain, To win his smile, his favour gain They told him e’en the mighty deep His kingly sway confessed ; That he could bid its billows leap, Or still its stormy breast ! He smiled contemptuously and cried, “ Be then my boasted empire tried !” SELECT POETRY Down to the ocean’s sounding shore The proud procession came, To see its billows’ wild uproar King Canute’s power proclaim ; Or, at his high and dread command, In gentle murmurs kiss the strand. Not so, thought he, their noble king, As his course he sea-ward sped ;— And each base slave like a guilty thing, Hung down his conscious head ;— He knew the ocean’s Lord on high ! They, that he scorned their senscless lie His throne was placed by ocean’s side, He lifted his sceptre there ; Bidding, with tones of kingly pride, The waves their strife forbear :— And, while he spoke his royal will, All but the winds and waves were still. Louder the stormy blast swept by, In scorn of his idle word ; The briny deep its waves tossed high, By his mandate undeterred, As threatening, in their angry play, To sweep both king and court away, The monarch with upbraiding look, Turned to the courtly ring; " But none the kindling eye could brook Even of his earthly king ; For in that wrathful glance they see A mightier monarch wronged than he ! FOR CHILDREN. 89 Canute! thy regal race is run ; Thy name had! passed away, But for the meed? this tale hath won Which never shall decay : Its meek, unperishing renown Outlasts thy sceptre and thy crown, The Persian,’ in his mighty pride, Forged fetters for the main ; And, when its floods his power defied, Inflicted stripes as vain ;— But it was worthier far of thee To know thyself, than rule the sea ! Bernard Barton. THE ORPHANS. My chaise tae village inn did gain, Just as the setting sun’s last ray Tipped with refulgent gold the vane Of the old church across the way. Across the way I silent sped, The time till supper to beguile In moralizing o’er the dead That mouldered round the ancient pile. There many an humble green grave showed Where want, and pain, and toil did rest ; And many a flattering stone I viewed O’er those who once had wealth possest A faded beach its shadow brown Threw o’er a grave where sorrow slept, 1 Had would have. ? Meed—reward, approbation. * Xerxes 12 90 SELECT POETRY On which, though scarce with grass o’ergrown, Two ragged children sat and wept. A piece of bread between them lay, Which neither seemed inclined to take And yet they looked so much a prey To want, it made my heart to ache. * My little children, let me know - Why you in such distress appear, And while you wasteful from you throw That bread which many a one might cheer ?” The little boy, in accents sweet, Replied, while tears each other chased— “ Lady ! we've not enough to eat, Ah! if we had, we should not waste © But sister Mary’s naughty grown, And will not eat, whate’er I say, Thongh sure I am the bread’s her own For she has tasted none to-day.” “Indeed,” the wan, starved Mary said, * Till Henry eats, I'll eat no ‘more, For yesterday I got some bread, He’s had none since the day before.”’ My heart did swell, my bosom heave, I felt as though deprived of speech ; ’ Silent I sat upon the grave, And clasped the clay cold hand ot each. With looks of woe too sadly true, With looks that spoke a grateful heart, The shivering boy then nearer drew, And did his simple tale impart: FOR CHILDREN. 91 “ Before my father went away, ~ Enticed by bad men o’er the sea, Sister and I did nought but play— We lived beside yon great ash tree. ‘ But then poor mother did so cry, And looked so changed, I cannot tell ; She told us that she soon should die, Aud bade us love each other well. *« She said, that when the war was o’er, Perhaps we might our father see ; But if we never saw him more, That God our father then would be! * She kissed us both, and then she died, And we no more a mother have ; Here many a day we've sat and cried Together at poor mother’s grave. “ But when my father came not here, I thought if we could find the sea, We should be sure to meet him there, And once again might happy be. “ We hand in hand went many 4 mile, And asked our way of all we met; And some did sigh, and some did smile, And we of some did victuals get. *‘ But when we reached the sea and found ’Twas one great water round us spread, We thought that father must be drowned, And cried, and wished we both were dead. “ So we returned to mother’s grave, And only longed with her to be ; 92 SELECT POETRY For Goody, when this bread she gave, Said father died beyond the sea. «Then since no parent we have here, We'll go and search for God around , - Lady, pray, can you tell us where That God, our Father, may be found ? « He lives in Heaven, mother said, And Goody says that mother's there ! So, if she knows we want his aid, I think perhaps she'll send him here.” I clasped the prattlers to my breast, And cried, “Come both and live with me; T’ll clothe you, feed you, give you rest, And will a second mother be. ‘And God shall be your Father still, Twas he in mercy sent me here, To teach you to obey his will, Your steps to guide, your hearts to cheer.” THE WINTER'S DAY. Wuen raging storms deform the air, And clouds of snow descend, And o’er the landscape once so fair, Stern winter's shadows blend ; When biting frost rides on the wind, Bleak from the north and east, And wealth is at his ease reclined, Prepared to laugh and feast ; FOR CHILDREN. 93 When the poor traveller treads the plain, All dubious of his way, And crawls with still increasing pain, And dreads the parting day ; When poverty, in scant attire, Shrinks from the biting blast, Or hovers o’er the pigmy fire, And fears it will not last; When the fond mother clasps her child Still closer to her breast, And the poor infant, frost-beguiled,! Scarce feels that it is pressed ;— Then let your bounteous hand extend Its blessings to the poor, Nor spurn the wretched, as they bend All suppliant at your door. THE TRAVELLER'S RETURN. Sweet to the morning traveller The song amid the sky, Where twinkling in the dewy light, The skylark soars on high. And cheering to the traveller The gales that round him play, When faint and heavily he drags Along his noontide way. 1 Frost-beguiled—benumbed, and rendered insensible by the frost. 94 SELECT POETRY And when beneath the unclouded sun Full wearily toils he, The flowing water makes to him A soothing melody. And when the evening light decays, And all is calm around, There is sweet music to his ear, In the distant sheep-bell’s sound. But oh! of all delightful sounds Of evening or of morn, The sweetest is the voice of love That welcomes his return. Southey. THE MISER AND THE MOUSE. FROM THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY. A MISER, traversing his house, Espied, unusual there, a mouse, And thus his uninvited guest, Briskly inquisitive, addressed ; “Tell me, my dear, to what cause is it I owe this unexpected visit ?” The mouse her host obliquely! eyed And, smiling, pleasantly replied : “ Fear not, good fellow, for your hoard ! I come to lodge, and not to board !” Cowper. 1 Obliguely—with a sort of arch, sidelong glance. FOR CHILDREN. 95 EPITAPH ON A HERO. Heng lies one who never drew Blood himself, yet many slew ; Gave the gun its aim, and figure Made in field, yet ne’er pulled trigger. Armed men have gladly made - Him their guide, and him obeyed ; At his signified desire, Would advance, present, and fire. Stout he was, and large of limb, Scores have fled at sight of him ; And to all this faine he rose By only following his nose. Neptune was he called, not he Who controls the boisterous sea, But of happier command, Neptune of the furrowed land ; And your wonder vain to shorten, Pointer! to Sir John Throckmorton? Cowper. THE PET PLANT. A FLORIST a sweet little blossom espied, Which bloomed, like its ancestors, by the road side ; 3 Pointer—a dog that by its peculiar gestures points out the game to the sportaman. * A friend of Cowper, who lived at Weston, near O! Buckinghamshire. , " ines 96- SELECT PORTRY Its colours were simple, its charms they were few, Yet the flower looked fair on the spot where it grew ;— The florist beheld it, and cried, “ I'll enchant The botanical world with this sweet little plant— Its leaves shall be sheltered and carefully nursed, It shall charm all the world, though I met with it first Under a hedge.” He carried it home to his hot-house with care, And he said, “ Thovgh the rarest exotics’ are there, My little pet plant, when I've nourished its stem, In tint and in fragrance shall emulate them, Though none shall suspect from the roadside it came $ Rhodum Sidum 1'll call it—a beautiful name— When botanists look through their glasses and view Its heauties, they'll never suspect that it grew Under a hedge.’ The little pet plant, when it shook off the dirt Of its own native ditch, began to grow pert, And tossed its small head, for perceiving that none But exotics were round it, it thought itself one : As a field-flower, all would have said it was fair, And praised it, though gaudier blossoms were there; But when it assumes hot-house airs we see through The forced tint of its leaves, and suspect thatit grew Under a hedge. In the bye-ways of life, oh ! how many there are, Who being born under seme fortunate star, 1 Exotics—foreign plants. FOR CHILDREN, 9 Assisted by talent or beanty, grow rich, And bloom in a hot-house instead of a ditch ! And while they disdain not their own simple stem, The honours they grasp may gain honour for them ; But when, like the pet plant, such people grow pert, We soon trace them to their original dirt Under a hedge. THE BABEIN HEAVEN TO ITS MOTHER. O wEEP not, mother dear, Since I can weep no more, For God has wiped away the tear That dimmed my eyes before. In yonder house of clay, I could not speak to thee; T could not that sweet voice obey Which breathed such love to me, But now on angel’s wing, I trace my heavenly flight, And now an angel’s song I sing, And soar in fields of light. I learn His name to bless, Who came an infant here ; Who sojourned in this wilderness, Because our souls were dear. Weep not that I ain blest, That, through redeeming grace, Mine is a better rest Than even thy kind embrace. K ‘ 98 SELECT POETRY Thou couldst not save from woe, Or quell my foes within ; Too soon I might have strayed below, And sought the path of sin. But safe for ever here, I tread on holy ground; And still I watch thee, mother dear, And, viewless, hover round. And when thy spirit flies To this bright world of love ; Then will I gladly close thine eyes, — And welcome thee above. EPITAPH ON AN INFANT Erg sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death came, with friendly care, The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there. Coleridge. THE THREE SONS. I wave ason,a little son, a boy just five years old, With eyes of thoughtful earnestness, and mind of gentle mould ; They tell me that "unusual grace in all his ways appears, That my child is grave and wise of head, beyond his childish years. FOR CHILDREN. 99 I cannot say how this may be, I know his face is, air, And yet his chieftest comeliness is his sweet and serious afr ; I know his heart is kind and fond, I know he loveth me, And loveth too his mother dear, with grateful ‘fervency, But that which others most admire is the thought that fills his mind, The food for grave inquiring speech he every where doth find. Strange questions doth he ask of me, when we together walk, He scarcely thinks as children think, or talks as children talk ; Nor cares he much for childish play, doats not on bat or ball, But looks on manhood’s ways and works, and aptly mimics all. © His little head is busy still, and oftentimes per- lexed With thoughts about this world of care, and thoughts about the next, He kneels at his dear mother’s knee, she teacheth him to pray, And strange, and sweet, and solemn are the words which he will say. Oh! should my gentle child be spared to man- hood’s years like me, A holier and a wiser man I trust that he will be; 190 SELECT POETRY And when I look into his eyes, and stroke his thoughtful brow, I dare not think what I should feel, were I to lose him now T have a son, a second son, a simple child of three, Vl not declare how bright and fair his little features bo; How silver sweet those tones of his when he prattles on my knee. I do not think his light blue eyes are, like his brother’s, keen, Nor his brow so full of childish thought as his hath ever been ; But his little heart’s a fountain pure of mind and tender feeling, And his very look’s a gleam of light, rich depths of love revealing. When he walks with me, the country folks, who pass him in the street, Will shout for joy, and bless my boy, he looks’so mild and sweet. A playfellow he is to all, and yet, with cheerful tone, Will sing his song of love, when left to play alone. His presence is like sunshine, sent to gladden home and hearth, To comfort us in all our griefs, and sweeten all our mirth. Should he grow up to riper years, God grant his heart may prove As meet a home for heavenly grace, as now for earthly love ; FOR CHILDREN. 101 and if beside his grave the tears our aching eyes may dim, God comfort us for all the love that we shall lose in him. I have a son, a third sweet son, his age I cannot tell, For they reckon not by months and years, where he is gone to dwell ; To us for fourteen anxious months his infant smiles were given, And then he bade farewell to earth, and went to live in heaven. I cannot tell what form is his, what looks he weareth now, Nor guess how bright a glory crowns his shining seraph brow : The thoughts that fill his sinless soul, the bliss which he doth feel, Are numbered with the secret things which God will not reveal. But I know, for God doth tell me this, that now he is at rest, Where other blessed infants be, on their Saviour’s loving breast ; I know his spirit feels no more the weary load of flesh, But his sleep is blest with endless dreams of joy for ever fresh. I know that we shall meet our babe, his mother dear, and I, When God himself shall wipe away all tears from every eye. K2 102 SELECT PORTRY Whate’er befalls his brethren twain, his bliss can never cease, Their lot may here be grief and care, but his is certain peace. It may be that the tempter’s wiles their souls from bliss may sever, But if our own poor faith fail not, he must be ours for. ever. When we think of what our darling is, and what we still may be, When we muse on that world’s perfect bliss, and this world’s misery, When we groan beneath this load of sin, and feel this grief and pain, Oh! we'd rather lose our other two, than have him here again. Moultrie. A SUMMER EVENING. How fine has the day been, how bright was the sun, How lovely azd joyful the course that he run, Though he ross in a mist when his race he begun, And there fotlowed some droppings of rain! But now the fair traveller’s come to the west, His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best ; He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest, And foretells a bright rising again. Just such is the Christian: his course he Legins Like the sun ina mist, while he mourns for his sins, And melts into tears; then he breaks out and shines, And travels his heavenly way : FOR CHILDREN. 103 But when he comes nearer to finish his race, Like a fine setting sun he looks 1:cher in grace, And gives a sure hope at the end of his days, Of rising in brighter array. Watts. THE HUMMING-BIRD. Tux humming-bird! the humming-bird ; So fairy-like and bright ; It lives among the sunny flowers, A creature of delight! In the radiant islands of the East, Where. fragrant spices grow, A thousand, thousand humming-birds Go glancing to and fro. Like living fires they flit about, Scarce larger than a bee, Among the broad palmetto. leaves, And through the fan-palm tree. And in those wild and verdant woods, Where stately moras tower, Where hangs from branching tree to tree The scarlet passion-flower ; Where on the mighty river banks, La Plate and Amazon, The cayman,! like an old tree trunk, Lies basking in the sun; There builds her nest the humming-bird, Within the ancient wood— 1 Cayman—the American alligator. 104 SELECT PORTRY Her nest of silky cotton down— And rears her tiny brood. She hangs it to a slender twig, Where waves it light and free, As the campanero! tolls his song, And rocks the mighty tree. All crimson is her shining breast, Like to the red, red rose ; Her wing is the changeful green and blue That the neck of the peacock shows. Thou, happy, happy humming-bird, No winter round thee lours ; Thou never saw’st a leafless tree, Nor land without sweet flowers. A reign of summer joyiulness To thee for life is given ; Thy food, the honey from the flower, Thy drink, the dew from heaven ! Mary Howitt. LINES FROM THE PERSIAN OF HAFIZ. On parent’s knees, a naked new-born babe, Weeping, thou satst, while all around thee siniled ; So live, that sinking in thy Jast sad sleep, Calm, thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep Sir .W Jones. ? Campanero—a West Indian bird whose note may be heard nearly :hree miles off like the toll of a distant convent tel. FOR CHILDREN. 105 THE DROWNING FLY. tw yonder vase behold a drowning fly! Its little feet how vainly does it ply! Its cries I understand not, yet it cries ; And tender hearts can feel its agonies. Poor, helpless victim ! and will no one save, Will no one snatch thee from the threatening grave ? Is there no friendly hand, no helper nigh ? And must thon, little struggler, must thou die ? Thou shalt not, while this hand can set thee free, Thou shalt not die—this hand shall rescue thee ; My finger’s tip shall prove a friendly shore ;— There, trembler! all thy dangers now are o’er: Wipe thy wet wings, and banish all thy fear; Go, join thy buzzing brothers in the air. Away it flies—resumes its harmless play, And lightly gambols in the golden ray. Smile not, spectators, at this humble deed— For you, perhaps, a nobler task’s decreed, A young and sinking family to save, To raise the infant from destruction’s wave ; To you for help the victims lift their eyes— Oh! hear, for pity’s sake, their plaintive cries ! Ere long, unless some guardian interpose, Oer their devoted heads the flood may close. Aikin. LUCY GRAY. No mate, no comrade, Lucy knew; She dwelt on a wide moor}; The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a cottage door ! 106 SELECT POETRY 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.” « That, father, I will 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 faggot band; He plied his work, and Lacy 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. 1 Minster—cathedral church. FOR CHILDREN. 107 At day-break on a hill they stood, That overlooked the moor; And thence they saw the bridge of wood, A furlong from the 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 track 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! 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. Wordsworth. 108 SELECT POETRY MORNING INVITATION TO A CHILD. Tue house is a prison, the school-room’s a cell ; Leave study and books for the upland and dell ; Lay aside the dull poring, quit home and quit care ; Sally forth! sally forth! let us breathe the fresh air! The sky dons! its holiday. mantle of blue; She sun sips his morning refreshment of dew, Shakes, joyously laughing, his tresses of light, And here and there turns his eye piercing and bright ; Then jocund mounts up on his glorious car, With smiles to the morn—for he means to go far— While the clouds that had newly paid court at his levee,? Spread sails to the breeze, and glide off in a bevy. Lofty trees, tufted hedge-rows, and sparkling be- tween, Dewy meadows enameled‘ in gold and in green, With king-cups and daisies, that all the year please, Sprays, petals,> and leaflets that nod in the breeze, With carpets, and garlands, and wreaths, deck the - way, And tempt the blithe spirit still onward to stray, Itself its own home ;—far away! far away ! The butterflies flutter in pairs round the bower, The humble-bee sings in each bell of each flower ; 1 Dons—puts on. 2 Levee—a crowd of inferiors waiting on or visiting sone great personage. 3 Bevy—properly a flock of birds—a company. 4 Enameled—inlaid with various colours, 5 Petals—flower leaves, FOR CHILDREN, 109 The bee hums o'er heather! and breeze-wooing hill,* And forgets in the sunshine his toil and his skill ; The birds caro] gladly !—the lark mounts on high! The swallows on wing make their tune to the eye, And, as birds of good omen, that summer loves well, Ever wheeling, weave-ever some magical spell. The hunt is abroad :—hark! the horn sounds its note, And seems to invite us to regions remote. The horse in the meadows is stirred by the sound, And, neighing impatient, o’erleaps the low mound; Then proud in his speed o’er the champaign’ he bounds, . To the whoop of the huntsmen, and tongue of the hounds, Then stay not within, for on such a blest day We can never quit home, while with Nature we stray, far away! far away! J. H. Green. SOLILOQUY OF A WATER-WAGTAIL. ‘* Hea your sovereign’s proclamation, - All good subjects, young and old ! I’m the Lord of the Creation, I—a water-wagtail bold ! All around, and all you see, All the world was made for mz ! 1 Heather—heath. ? Breese-wooing hill—a hill which, as it were, courts o7 invites the wind to stay near it—high and exposed. 3 Champaign—open, flat country. L 110 SELECT POETRY “ Yonder sun, so proudly shining, Rises—when I leave my nest ; And, behind the hills declining, Sets—when I retire to rest. Morn and evening, thus you see, Day and night, were made for ME! “ Vernal gales to love invite me; Summer sheds for me her beams ; Autumn’s genial scenes delight me ; Winter paves with ice my streams ; All the year is mine you see; Seasons change like moons for ME; “On the heads of giant mountains, Or beneath the shady trees; By the banks of warbling fountains I enjoy myself at ease: Hills and valleys, thus you see, Groves and rivers, made for mg ! “ Boundless are my vast dominions ; I can hop, or swim, or fly ; When I please, my towering pinions Trace my empire through the sky: Air and elements, you see, Heaven and earth, were made for mx ! ‘ Birds and insects, beasts and fishes, . All their humble distance keep ; Man, subservient to my wishes, Sows the harvest which I reap: Mighty man himself you see, All that breathe, were made for uz ! FOR CHILDREN. 111 “ Twas for my accommodation Nature rose when I was born ; Should I die—the whole creation Back to nothing would return : Sun, moon, stars, the world, you see, Sprung—exist —will fall with mx.” Here the pretty prattler, ending, Spread his wings to soar away ; But a cruel hawk, descending, Pounced him up—a helpless prey. Couldst thou not, poor wagtail, see That the hawk was made for THEE ? Montgomery. THE FIRST GRIEF. “Ou! call my brother back to me, I cannot play alone; The summer comes with flower and bee— Where is my brother gone ? «The butterfly is glancing bright Across the sunbeam’s track ; I care not now to chase its flight— Oh! call my brother back. “© The flowers run wild—the flowers we sowed Around our garden-tree ; Onur vine is drooping with its load— Oh! call him back to me.” . * He would not hear my voice, fair child ! He may not come to thee; ~ The face that once like spring-time smiled On earth no more thou'lt see ! 112 SELECT POETRY * A rose’s brief, bright life of joy, Such unto him was given ; Go—thou must play alone, my boy— Thy brother is in heaven !” «* And has he left the birds and flowers, And must I call in vain ; And through the long, tong summer hours, Will he not come again P « And by the brook, and in the glade, Are all our wanderings o’er ? Oh! while my brother with me played, Would I had loved him more!” Mrs. Hemans. on’ OUR ENGLISH HOME. Ox! who would leave our happy land, Where peace and plenty dwell, To roam upon a foreign strand, Whose wonders travellers tell ? The orange sheds its sweet perfume Beneath Hispania’s! skies ; But we've the apple’s ruddy bloom The orchard’s rich supplies ! The cocoa and the date-tree spread Their boughs in India’s clime ; The yellow mango hangs o’erhead, And stately grows the lime; ? Hispania—Spain. FOR CHILDREN. 113 But we've the cherry s tempting bough, The currant’s coral gem ; What English child will not allow That these may vie with them ? Italy boasts its citron groves, And walks of lemon trees ; Ceylon, its spicy nuts and cloves, That scent the summer breeze ; But we've the peach, and nectarine red, The ripe and bluoming plum, The strawberry, in its leafy bed, When holidays are come. The purple vine its harvest yields France, in thy fertile plain ; But we've the yellow waving fields Of golden British grain. Heaven on our favoured land hath smiled From want and war we're free ; The noble’s heir, the peasant’s child, Alike have liberty. | Grateful we'll praise the mighty hand That sheds such blessings here, Protecting still our native land From ills that others fear. Still Jet us love this spot of earth—- The best where’er we roam— And duly estimate the worth Of our dear English home, Mrs. C. B. Wilson L2 114 SELECT POETRY CHILDREN LISTENING TO A LARK. Sze the lark prunes his active wings, Rises to heaven, and soars, and sings ! His morning hymns, his mid-day lays, Are one continued song of praise ; He speaks his Maker all he can, And shames the silent tongue of man. When the declining orb of light, _. Reminds him of approaching night, His warbling vespers' swell his breast, And, as he sings, he sinks to rest. Shall birds instructive lessons teach, And we be deaf to what they preach ? No, ye dear nestlings of my heart, Go, act the wiser songster’s part; - Spurn your warm couch at early dawn, And with your God begin the morn ; To Him your grateful tribute pay Through every period of the day; To Him your evening songs direct ; His eye shall watch, His arm protect ; Though darkness reigns, He’s with you stiil, Then sleep, my babes, and fear no ill. Cotton. THE BIRD'S NEST. Tz wins my admiration To view the structure of that little work, A bird’s nest. Mark it well within, without !— ' Vespers—properly, the evening service of the Roman Catholic church ; here, evening songs. FOR CHILDREN. 115 No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut, No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert, No glue to join: his little beak was all— And yet how neatly finished! what nice hand, With every implement and means of art, And twenty years’ apprenticeship to boot,! Could make me such another? Vainly, then, We boast of excellence, whose noblest skill Instinctive genius foils. THE TOAD’S JOURNAL.* In 2 land for antiquities greatly renowned A traveller had dug wide and deep under ground, A temple for ages entombed, to disclose— When lo! he disturbed in its secret repose A toad, from whose journal it plainly appears It had lodged in that mansion some thousands of ears, The roll, which this reptile’s long history records, A treat to the sage antiquarian affords: The sense by obscure hieroglyphics concealed, Deep learning, at length, with long labour revealed. The first thousand years as a specimen, take ;— The dates are omitted for brevity’s sake. Hurdis. 1 To boot—to superadd—here, in addition. 2 Tt is said that Belzoni, the traveller in Egypt, discovered a living toad in a temple which had been for ages buried in the sand. This circumstance gave rise to the poem, the first twelve lines of which were not written by the ingenious au- thor of the rest, but prefixed by some unknown hand. 116 SELECT POETRY —— “Crawled forth from some rubbish, and winked with one eye; Half opened the other, but could not tell why ; Stretched out my left leg, as it felt rather queer, Then drew all together and slept for a year. Awakened, felt chilly—crept under a stone ; Was vastly contented with living alone. One toe became wedged in the stone like a pes, Could not get it away—had the cramp in my leg; Began half to wish for a neighbour at hand To loosen the stone, which was fast in the sand ; Pulled harder—then dosed, as I found ‘twas no use ;— Awoke the next summer, and lo! it was loose. Crawled forth from the stone when completely awake ; Crept into a corner and grinned at a snake. Retreated, and found that I needed repose ; Curled up my damp limbs and prepared for a dose : Fell sounder to sleep than was usual before, And did not awake for a century or more ; But had a sweet dream, as I rather believe :— Methought it was light, and a fine summer's eve ; And I in some garden deliciously fed In the pleasant moist shade of a strawberry bed. There fine speckled creatures claimed kindred with me, And others that hopped, most enchanting to see. Here long I regaled.with emotion extreme ;— Awoke—disconcerted to find it a dream ; Grew pensive—discovered that life is a load ; Began to get weary of being a toad ; Was fretful at first, and then shed a few tears.”— Here ends the account of the first thousand years. FOR CHILDREN. 117 MORAL. It seems that life is all a void, On selfish thoughts alone employed : That length of days is not a good, Unless their use be understood ; While if good deeds one year engage, That may be longer than an age: But if a year in trifles go, Perhaps you'd spend a thousand so. Time cannot stay to make us wise-— We must improve it as it flies. Jane Taylor. INVITATION TO BIRDS. Yz gentle warblers! hither fly, And shun the noontide heat ; My shrubs a cooling shade supply, My groves a safe retreat. Here freely hop from spray to spray, And weave the mossy nest; Here rove and sing the live-long day, At night here sweetly rest. Amid this cool transparent rill, That trickles down the glade, Here bathe your plumes, here drink your fill, And revel in the shade. No school-boy rude, to mischief prone, Here shows his ruddy face; Or twangs his bow, or hurls a stone In this sequestered place. 118 SELECT POETRY Hither the vocal thrush repairs ; Secure -he linnet sings ; The goldfinch dreads no slimy snares To clog her painted wings. Sweet nightingale! oh quit thy haunt, Yon distant woods among, And round my friendly grotto chant Thy sadly-pleasing song. Let not the harmless redbreast fear, Domestic bird, to come And seek a safe asylum here, With one that loves his home. My trees for you, ye artless tribe, Shall store of fruit preserve ; Oh! let me thus your friendship bribe— Come feed without reserve. For you these cherries I protect, To you these plums belong; Sweet is the fruit that you have pecked, But sweeter far your song. Graves. BETH-GELERT;! OR, THE GRAVE OF THE GREYHOUND. Tux spearman heard the bugle sound, -And gaily smiled the morn, 1 The name of a village in North Wales. The circum- stances narrated in this poem occurred in the reign of King John of England, when Liewellyn the Great was the inde- pendent Prince of North Wales. FOR CHILDREN. 119 And many a brach,! and many a hound, Attend Llewellyn’s horn. And still he blew a louder blast, And gave a louder cheer; * Come, Gelert, why art thou the last Llewellyn’s horn to hear? “« Where does my faithful Gelert roam ? The flower of all his race ; So true, so brave; a lamb at home, A lion in the chase.” *Twas only at Llewellyn’s board The faithful Gelert fed; He watched, he served, he cheered his lord, And sentineled? his bed. In sooth he was a peerless hound, The gift of royal John :* But now no Gelert could be found, And all the chase rode on. And now, as over rocks and dells The huntsmen’s cheerings rise, All Snowdon’s craggy chaos‘ yells With many mingled cries. That day Llewellyn little loved The chase of hart or hare, And scant and small the booty proved, For Gelert was not there. 1 Brach—a female hound. 2 Sentineled—watched as a sentinel. 3 Royal John—King John of England. 4 Craggy chaos—confused mass of craggy rocks, which formed the mountain. 120 SELECT POETRY. Unpleased, Llewellyn homeward hied, When near the portal seat,! His truant Gelert he espied, Bounding his lord to greet. But when he gained his castle door, Aghast the chieftain stood ; The hound was smeared with drops of gore, His lips and fangs? ran blood ! Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise, Unused such looks to meet ; His favourite checked his joyful guise,* And crouched and licked his feet. Onward in haste Llewellen past, And on went Gelert too; And still where’er his eyes he cast Fresh blood-drops shocked his view ! O’ert his infant’s bed he found, The bfbod-stained covert‘ rent; And all around the walls and ground With recent blood besprent.® He called his child, no voice replied— He searched with terror wild ; Blood! blood he found on every side, But nowhere found his chlid ! “ Blood-hound! by thee my child’s devoured !’ The frantic father cried; 1 Portal seat—seat.at the door of his castle. + Fangs—long tusks or teeth. 3 Guise—manner, appearance. * Covert—for coverlet, the outermost of the bed-clothes. 5 Besprent—sprinkled. FOR CHILDREN. 121 And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Gelert’s side. His suppliant look, as prone? he fell, No pity could impart; Yet mournfully his dying yell Sank in Llewellyn’s heart. Aroused by Gelert’s dying yell . Some slumberer wakened nigh— What words the parent’s joy can tell, . To hear his infant cry ! Concealed amidst a mingled heap His hurried search had missed, All glowing from his rosy sleep, His cherub boy he kissed ! Nor wound had he, nor harm, nor dreac : But, the same couch beneath, Lay a great wolf,? all torn and dgad,— Tremendous still in death ! Ah! what was then Llewellyn’s pain? For now the truth was clear, The gallant hound the wolf had slain, And saved Llewellyn’s heir. Vain, vain was all Llewellyn’s woe: « Best of thy kind, adieu! The frantic deed which laid thee low, This heart shall ever rue !"5 1 Prone—headlong. 4 Wolf—wolves were at this time numerous and formids- ble in North Wales. * Rue—regret, lament, M SELECT POETRY -And now a gallant tomb they raise, With costly sculpture deckt ; And marbles, storied! with his praise Poor Gelert’s bones protect. Here never could the spearman pass, Or forester, unmoved ; Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass Llewellyn’s sorrow proved. And here he hung his horn and spear, And oft, as evening fell, In fancy’s piercing sounds would hear Poor Gelert’s dying yell! W. Spenser. TO A WASP. WineEp wanderer of the sky, From your wonted path on high, With your fearful dragon trail, Crested head, and coat of mail, Why do you my peace molest ? Why do you disturb my rest? While the sunny meads are seen Deckt with purest white and green ; And the gardens and the bowers, And the forests and the flowers, Don their robes of various dye, Blending fitly to the eye ;— Did J chase you in your flight ? Did J put you in a fright? 1 Storied—engraved, or written over. FOR CHILDREN. 123 Did J spoil your treasures hid ? Well you know I never did. Foolish trifler, pray beware ! Tempt my anger—if you dare. Trust not in your strength of wing, Trust not in your length of sting ; You are lost if here you stay, Haste then, trifler, haste away! Bruce THE WINTER FIRE. A FIRE’s a good companionable friend, A comfortable friend, who meets your face With welcome glad, and makes the poorest shed As pleasant as a palace! Are you cold? He warms you—weary? he refreshes you— Hungry? he doth prepare your food for you. Are you in darkness? he gives light to you— In a strange land? he wears a face that is Familiar from your childhood. Are you poor?— What matters it to him? He knows no difference Between an emperor and the poorest beggar ! Where is the friend, that bears the name of man, Will do as much for you? Mary Howitt. THE MOTHER TRIED. “On! blessed is my baby boy!” Thus spoke a mother to her child, And kissed him with excess of joy— He looked into her face and smiled. 124 SELECT POETRY But as the mother breathed his name, The fervent prayer was scarcely said, Convulsions shook his infant frame— The mother’s only hope was dead ! Yet still her faith in Him she kept, On Him who turned to grief her joy ; And still she whispered, as she wept, “Oh! blessed is my baby boy !” S. C. Hall. A CHILD'S WISH. Ou! how I wish that I had lived In the ages that are gone! Like a brother of the Wandering Jew, And yet kept living on; For then in its early glory, I could have proudly paced The City of the Wilderness,' Old Tadmor of the waste ; And have seen the Queen of Sheba,’ With her camels riding on, With spices rich, and precious stones, To great King Solomon ; And have talked with grey Phoenicians Of dark and solemn seas, And heard the wild and dismal tales Of their far voyages. 3 Tadmor or Falmyra—e city built by Solomon; see 2nd Chronicles, viii. 2 Queen of Shabe---aee 2nd Chronicles, vi. 1. FOR CHILDREN. 125 I could have solved all mysteries Of Egypt old and vast, And read each hieroglyphic scroll, From the first word to the last, I should have known what cities In the desert wastes were hid; And have walked, as in my father’s house, Through each great pyramid. I might have sat on Homer's knees, A little prattling boy, And listened to the story strange Of the ten years’ siege of Troy. I might have walked with Plato In the groves of Academe ;! And have talked with him of sylvan Pan, And the Naiads of each stream. What joy to have climbed th’ Acropolis,? With its stately Parthenon ; And in after days to the seven-hilled Rome, With eager steps to have gone! To have stood by warlike Romulus, In council and in fray, And with his horde of robbers dwelt, In reed-roofed huts of clay ! 1 Academe—a garden in one of the suburbs of Athens, laid out in walks shaded by trees, and adorned with statues and fountains. It was a favourite resort of learned men. 2 Acropolis—a rocky eminence about 150 feet high, around and at the foot of which Athens was built, and on whose. summit stood the Parthenon or Temple of Minerva. M2 li 6 SELECT POETRY ‘Think of ambitious Cesar, And Pompey great and brave ;— To have seen their legions in the field, Their galleys on the wave. - I should have seen Rome’s glory dimmed, When round her leaguered! wall Came down the Vandal and the Goth, The Scythian and the Gaul ; And the dwarfish Huns by myriads, From the unknown northern shores ; As if the verv earth gave up The brown men of the moors. I should have seen old Wodin? And his seven sons go forth, From the green banks of the Caspian Sea To the dim wilds of the North; To the dark and piny forests, Where he made his drear abode, ‘And taught his wild and fearful faith, And thus became their god. And the terrible Vikingr,? Dwellers on the stormy sea, The Norsemen! and their Runic® lore, Had all been known to me. ! Leaguered—besieged. * Wodin—one of the deified heroes of Saxon Mythology : we have his name in Wednesday, that is Wodin's-day. 3 Vikingr—Sea-Kings, pirates so called, famous in our early history. 4 Norsemen—northern-men, from the north of Europe. 5 Runie—mysterious, a name given to certain alplabetic characters cut in stones found in Norway, Sweden, and somie other countries. FOR CHILDREN. 127 Think only of the dismal tales, And the mysteries I should know, If my longl ife had but begun, Three thousand years ago! Mary Howitt. LAPLAND. *€ Wir blue cold nose and wrinked brow, Traveller, whence comest thou ?” “From Lapland’s woods and hills of frost, By the rapid rein-deer crost ; Where tapering grows the gloomy fir And the stunted! juniper; Where the wild hare and the crow Whiten in surrounding snow ; Where the shivering huntsmen tear His fur coat from the grim white bear ; Where the wolf and arctic fox Prow] along the lonely rocks ; And tardy suns to deserts drear Give days and nights of half-a-year ; —From icy oceans, where the whale Tosses in foam his lashing tail ; Where the snorting sea-horse shows His ivory teeth in grinning rows; ° Where, tumbling in their seal-skin boat, Fearless the hungry fishers float, And from teeming? seas supply The food their niggard plains deny, Atkin. 1 Stunted—hindered from growth, dwarf. 2 Teeming—full, abundant 128 SELECT POETRY ANIMALS AND THEIR COUNTRIES. O’sr Afric’s sand the tawny lion stalks ; On Phasis’! banks the graceful pheasant walks ; The lonely eagle builds on Kilda’s* shore : Germania’s forests feed the tusky boar ; From Alp to Alp the sprightly ibex bounds ; With peaceful lowings Britain’s isle resounds ; The Lapland peasant o’er the frozen mere* Is drawn in sledges by the swift reindeer ; The river-horse and scaly crocodile Infest the reedy banks of fruitful Nile ; The dipsas‘ hisses over Mauritania’s plain,’ And seals and spouting whales sport in the northern main.° Barbauld. THE NEGRO BOY.’ WHEN avarice enslaves the mind, ‘And selfish views alone bear sway, Man turns a savage to his kind, And blood and rapine mark his way. Alas! for this poor, simple toy, I sold a happy negro boy. 1 Phasis—a river in Persia. * Kilda—an island of Scot- land, the most western of the Hebrides. * Mere—a large lake. * Dipsas—a venomous serpent, whose bite produces intolerable thirst, 5 Mauritanta—the ancient name of north-western Africa, now Fez and Morocco. © Main-— main-sea-—oceane 7 An African prince, who once visited England, was asked what he had given for his watch; he answered, “ What I will never give again—a fine boy.” FOR CHILDREN. 129 His father’s hope, his mother’s pride, Though black, yet comely to their view, I tore him helpless from their side, And gave him to a ruffian crew; To fiends that Afric’s coast annoy, I sold the trembling negro boy. From country, friends, and parents torn His tender limbs in chains confined, T saw him o’er the billows borne, And marked his agony of mind ; But still to gain this simple toy, I gave the weeping negro boy. Beneath a tyrant’s harsh command, He wears away his youthful prime, Far distant from his native land, A stranger in a foreign clime, Sad thoughts his days and nights employ, A poor, dejected negro boy. His wretched parents long shall mourn, Shall long explore the distant main, Eager to see the youth return,— But all their hopes and sighs are vain ; They never shall that sight enjoy Of their lamented negro boy. Samwell. THE BIRD IN A CAGE. On! who would keep a little bird confined When cowslip-bells are nodding in the wind, 130 SELECT POETRY When every hedge as with “good-morrow” rings, And, heard from wood to wood, the blackbird sings ? Oh! who would keep a little bird confined In his cold wiry prison ?—Let him fly, And hear him sing, “ How sweet is liberty :” WL. Bowles. THE STREAMLET. I saw a little streamlet flow Along a peaceful vale, A thread of silver, soft and slow, It wandered down the dale ; Just to do good it seemed to move, Directed by the hand of Love. The valley smiled in living green ; A tree, which near it gave From noon-tide heat a friendly screen, Drank from its limpid! wave. The swallow brushed it with her wing, And followed its meandering.’ But not alone to plant and bird That little stream was known, Its gentle murmur far was heard —~ A friend’s familiar tone ! It glided by the cotter’s$ door, It blessed: the labour of the poor. And would that I could thus be found, While travelling life’s brief way, ' Limpid—clear. * Meandering—winding course. 3 Cotter—cottager. FOR CHILDREN. 131 An huwble friend to ail around, Where’er my footsteps stray ; Like that pure stream, with tranquil breast, Like it, still blessing, and still blest. M. A. Stodart. THE DAIS§Y. Wuar hand but His who arched the skies, And pours the day-spring’s' living flood,* Wondrons alike in all He tries, Could raise the daisy’s purple bud, Mould its green cup, its wiry stem, Its fringed border nicely spin, And cut the gold-embossed gem, That, set in silver, gleams within, And fling it, unrestrained and free, O’er hill and dale, and desert sod ; That man, where’er he walks, may see At every step the stamp of God ? Mason Good, PRINCIPLE PUT TO THE TEST. A YouNGsSTER at school, more sedate than the rest, Had once his integrity put to the test :— His comrades had plotted an orchard to rob, And asked him to go and assist in the job. He was very much shocked, and answered—“Oh no! What rob our poor neighbour! I pray you don’t go; ' Day-spring—trise of day—dawn. ‘* Living flood—of light. 132 SELECT POETRY Besides the man’s poor, his orchard’s his bread ; Then think of his children, for they must be fed.” “You speak very fine, and you look very grave, But apples we want, and apples we'll have ; If you will go with us, we'll give you a share, If not, you shall have neither apple nor pear.” They spoke, and Tom pondered—* I see they will go Poor man! what a pity to injure him so! Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could, But staying behind wil] do him no good. “If this matter depended alone upon me, His apples might hang till they dropped from the tree ; But since they will take them, I think I'll go too, He will lose none by me, though I get a few.” His scruples thus silenced, Tom felt more at ease, And went with his comrades the apples to seize ; He blamed and protested, but joined in the plan ; He shared in the plunder, but pitied the man. Conscience slumbered awhile, but soon woke in his breast, ‘And in language severe the delinquent addressed ; “With such empty and selfish pretenccs away ! By your actions you're judged, be your speech what it inay.”? Couper. The last verse is added by another hand. FOR CHILDREN. 133 THE GLADNESS OF NATURE. Ts this a time to be cloudy and sad, When all is smiling above and around ; When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground ? There are notes of joy from the blackbird and wren, And the gossip of swallows through all the sky ; The ground-squirtel gaily chirps by his den, And the wilding bee hums merrily by. The clouds are at play in the azure space, And their shadows sport in the deep green vale ; : And here ‘they stretch to the frolic chase, And there they roll] in the easy gale. There’s a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,. There’s a titter of winds in that beechen tree, There’s a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles On the dewy earth, that smiles in his ray, On the leaping waters and gay young isles,— Ay, look, and he'll smile all thy gloom away. W. C. Bryant. N 134 SELECT POETRY THE FIRST SWALLOW. Tux gorse is yellow on the heath ; The banks with speed-well flowers are gay ; The oaks are budding, and beneath, The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath, The silver wreath of May. The welcome guest of settled spring, The swallow, too, is come at last ; Just at sun-set, when thrushes sing, I saw her dash with rapid wing, And hailed her as she past. Come, summer visitant, attach To my reed roof your nest of clay, And let my ear your music catch, Low twittering underneath the thatch, At the grey dawn of day. Charlotte Smith. THE FAKENHAM GHOST. Tue lawns were dry in Euston park : (Here truth! inspires my tale, ) The lonely footpath, still and dark, Led over hill and dale. Benighted was an ancient dame, And fearful haste she made To gain the vale of Fakenham,” And hail its willow shade. ’ This ballad is founded on fact. ? Fokenham—a village in Suffolk. FOR CHILDREN. 135 Her footsteps knew no idle stops, But followed faster still ; And echoed to the darksome copse That whispered on the hill, Where clamorous rooks, yet scarcely hushed, Bespoke a peopled shade ; And many a wing the foliage brushed, And hovering circuits made. The dappled’ herd of grazing deer, That sought the shades by day, Now started from their paths with fear, And gave the stranger way. Darker it grew, and darker fears Came o’er her troubled mind ; When now, a short, quick step she hears, Come patting close behind. She turned, it stopped ; nought could she see Upon the gloomy plain ; But as she strove the sprite to flee, She heard the same again. Now terror seized her quaking frame, For, where the path was bare, The trotting ghost kept on the same— She muttered many a prayer. Yet once again, amidst her fright, She tried what sight could do ; When, through the cheating glooms of night, A MonsTER! stood in view. * Dappled—variegated—streaked, _ 136 SELECT POETRY Regardless of whate’er she felt, It followed down the plain ; She owned her sins, and down she knelt, And said her prayers again. Then on she sped, and hope grew strong, The white park-gate in view ; Which pushing hard, so long it swung, That ghost and all passed through ! Loud fell the gate against the post, Her heart-strings like to crack ; For much she feared the grisly! ghost Would leap upon her back. Still on—pit-—pat—the goblin went, As it had done before : Her strength and resolution spent, She fainted at the door. Out came her husband, much surprised ; Out came her daughter dear ; Good-natured souls! all unadvised Of what they had to fear. The candle’s gleam pierced through the night, Some short space o’er the green And there the little trotting sprite Distinctly might be seen. An ass’s foal had lost its dam Within the spacious park ; And, simple as a playful lamb, Had followed in the dark. ' Grisly —dreadful —hideous. FOR CHILDREN. 137 No goblin he; no imp of sin; No crimes had ever known ;— They took the shaggy stranger in And reared him as their own.! His little hoofs would rattle round Upon the cottage floor; The matron learned to love the sound That frightened her before. A favourite the ghost became And ‘twas his fate to thrive ; And long he lived, and spread his fame, And kept the joke alive ; For many a laugh went through the vale, And some conviction too— Each thought some other goblin tale Perhaps was just as true. Bloomfield THE FAITHFUL FRIEND. THE greenhouse is my summer seat; My shrubs, displaced from that retreat, Enjoyed the open air ; Two goldfinches, whose sprightly song Had been their mutual solace long, Lived happy prisoners there. 1 It does not distinctly appear that they had any right to do this, n2 138 SELECT POETRY They sang as blithe as finches sing That flutter loose on golden wing, And frolic where they list ;' Strangers to liberty, ’tis true, But that delight they never knew, And therefore never missed. But nature works in every breast, With force not easily supprest ; And Dick felt some desires, Which after many an effort vain, Instructed him at length to gain A pass between the wires, The open windows seemed to invite The freeman to a farewell flight ; But Tom was still confined ; And Dick, although his way was clear, Was much too generous and sincere To leave his friend behind. So settling on his cage, by play, And chirp, and kiss, he seemed to say, «You must not live alone,”— Nor would he quit that chosen stand, Till I with slow and cautious hand, Returned him to his own. O ye, who never taste the joys Of friendship, satisfied with noise, Fandango,” ball, and rout! ' List—wish, please. ? Fandango—a Spanish dance. FOR CHILDREN. 139 Blush, when I tell you how a bir A prison with a friend preforzed, To liberty without. Cowper. SONG OF THE BEES. WE watch for the light of the morn to break, And colour the eastern sky With its blended hues of saffron and lake ; Then say to each other, “ Awake! awake! For our winter's honey is all to make, And our bread for a long supply.” And off we hie to the hill and dell, To the field, to the meadow and bower; We love in the columbine’s horn to dwell, To dip in the lily with snow-white bell, To search for the balm in its fragrant cell, The mint and the rosemary flower. We seek the bloom of the eglantine,! Of the painted thistle and brier; And follow the steps of the wandering vine, Whether it trail on the earth supine, Or round the aspiring tree-top twine, And aim at a state still higher. While each, on the good of her sister bent, Is busy, and cares for all, ! Eglantine—properly the sweet-brier; here the honc: suckle is probably intended. . ® Supine---lying along on the ground. 140 SELECT POETRY We hope for an evening of heart’s content In the winter of life, without lament That summer is gone, or its hours misspent, And the harvest is past recall. Miss Gould. TO A CHILD, AFTER AN INTERVAL ' OF ABSENCE. I miss thee from my side, With thy merry eyes and blue From thy crib, at morning tide, Oft its curtains peeping through— In the kisses, not a few, Thou wert wont to give me then; In the sleepy, sad adieu, When ’twas time for bed again! I miss thee from my side, With thy query oft repeated ; On thy rocking-horse astride, Or beneath my table seated ;— Or, when tired and overheated With a summer day’s delight, Many a childish aim defeated, Sleep hath overpowerd thee quite ! I miss thee from my side, When the light of day grows pale; When, with eyelids opened wide, Thou wouldst list the oft-told tale, FOR CHILDREN. 141 And the murdered babes bewail ; Yet so greedy of thy pain, That when all my lore would fail, I must needs begin again ! I miss thee from my side, In the haunts that late were thine ; Where thy twinkling feet would glide, And thy clasping fingers twine; Here are chequered tumblers nine— Silent relics of thy play— Here the mimic tea-things shine, Thou wouldst wash the live-long day ! Thy drum hangs on the wall ; Thy bird-organ sounds are o’er, Dogs and horses, great and small, Wanting some a leg or more; Cows and sheep—a motley store—- All are stabled ‘neath thy bed ; And not one but can restore Memories sweet of him that’s fled I miss thee from my side, Blithe cricket of my hearth! Oft in secret have I sighed For thy chirping voice of mirth ; When the low-bred cares of earth Chill my heart or dim my eye, Grief is stifled in its birth If my little prattler’s nigh ! A, A, Watts. SELECT POETRY THE SNAIL. , FROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE. To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wall, The snail sticks close, nor fears to fall, As if he grew there, house and all Together. Within that house secure he hides, When danger imminent betides Of storm, or other harm besides Of weather. Give but his horns the slightest touch, His self-collecting power is such, “He shrinks into his house with much Displeasure. Where’er he dwells he dwells alone, Except himself, has chattels! none, Well satisfied to be his own Whole treasure. Thus, hermit-like, his life he leads, Nor partner of his banquet needs, And if he meets one, only feeds The faster. Who seeks him must be worse than blind, (He and his house are so combined) If finding it, he fails to find Its master. Cowper. ¥ Chattels—movable property. FOR CHILDREN. 143 THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD.! Now ponder well, you parents dear, These words which I shall write; A doleful story you shall hear, In time brought forth to light: A gentleman of good account In Norfolk dwelt of late, Who did in honour far surmount? Most men of his estate. Sore sick he was, and like to die, No help his life could save ; His wife by him as sick did lie, And both possest one grave, No love between these two was lost, Each was to other kind ; In love they lived, in love they died, And left two babes behind :— The one a fine and pretty boy, Not passing three years old ; The other a girl, more young than he, And framed in beauty’s mould. The father left his little son, As plainly doth appear, When he to perfect age® should come, Three hundred pounds a year. - 1 This very popular ballad is here reprinted from Percy’s Reliques, with such slight alterations, both in the ortho- phy and the style, as were necessary.to fit it for this Eelection, The original copy is thought to be more than two hundred years old. * Surmount—exceed. 3 Perfect age~the age of 21 144 SELECT POETRY And to his little daughter Jane Five hundred pounds in gold, To be paid down on marriage day, Which might not be controlled ; But if the children chance to die, Ere they to age should come, Their uncle should possess their wealth ~ For so the will did run. “ Now, brother,” said the dying man, « Look to my children dear: Be good unto my boy and girl, No friends else have they here; “To God and you I recommend My children dear this day ; But little while, be sure, we have Within this world to stay. « You must be father and mother both, And uncle all in one; God knows what will become of them, When I am dead and gone.” With that out spoke their mother dear, * Q brother kind,” quoth! she, * You are the man must bring our babes To wealth or misery. “ And if you keep them carefully, Then God will you reward ; But if you otherwise should deal, God will your deeds regard.”” © Quoth—says or said. 2 Regard—regard and pwiish. FOR CHILDREN 145 With lips as cold as any stone They kissed their children small : God bless you both, my children dear,” And then their tears did fall. These words did then their brother speak To this sick couple there: “ The keeping of your little ones, Sweet sister, do not fear; “* God never prosper me nor mine, Nor aught else that I have, If I do wrong your children dear, When you are in the grave.” The parents being dead and gone, The children home he takes, And brings them straight unto his house, Where much of them he makes. He had not kept these pretty babes *A twelvemonth and a day, When, for their wealth, he did devise To make them both away.! Iie bargained with two ruffians strong, Which were of furious mood, That they should take these children young, And slay them in a wood. He told his wife an artful tale— He would the children send To be brought up in fair London,, With one that was his friend. < 1 7 make them both away—to make away with then— to kill them. 0 146 SELROT POETRY Away then went these pretty babes, Rejoicing at that tide," Rejoicing with a merry mind, They should on cock-horse ride. They prate and prattle pleasantly, As they rode on their way, To those that should their murderers be, And work their lives’ decay ; So that the pretty speech they had Made murder's heart relent, And they that undertook the deed Fut sore did now repent. Yet one of them, more hard of heart, Did vow to do his charge," Because the wretch that hired him Had paid him very large. The other won't agree thereto ; So here they fall to strife ; With one another they did fight About the children’s life: And he that was of mildest mood Did slay the other there, Within an unfrequented wood— The babes did quake for fear ! He took the children by the hand, Tears standing in their eye, And bade them straightway follow him, And look‘ they did not cry. 1 Tide-—time * His charge—that which he had been charged with. 3 Large—for largely. 4 Look—take care. FOR CHILDREN. 147: And two long miles he led them on, While they for bread complain ; “Stay here,” quoth he, “1'll bring you some, When I came back again.” These pretty babes, with hand in hand, Went wandering up and down, But never more could see the man Approaching from the town. Their pretty lips with blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed, And when they saw the darksome night, . They sat them down and cried. Thus wandered these poor innocents, Till death did end their grief; Tn one another’s arms they died, For want of due relief. No burial this pretty pair Of any man receives, Till Robin Redbreast painfully! Did cover them with leaves. And now the heavy wrath of God Upon their uncle fell; Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house His conscience felt a hell. His barns were fired, his goods consumed, His lands were barren made; 1 Painfully—with pains or trouble — carefully. Some copies read “ piously.” : 148 SELECT POETRY His cattle died within the field, And nothing with him staid ; And in a voyage to Portugal Two of his sons did die; And, to conclude, himself was brought To want and misery. He pawned and mortgaged! all his land, Ere seven years came abont, And now at length his wicked act Did by this means come out: The fellow that did take in hand These children dear to kill, Was for a robbery judged to die, (Such was God’s blessed will !) Who did confess the very truth, As here hath been displayed ; Their uncle having died in gaol, Where he for debt was laid. You that executors? be made, And overseers eke,? Of children that be fatherless, And their undoing seek, Take you example by this thing, And yield to each his right, Lest God with such like misery Your wicked deeds requite. 1 Mortgaged all his land—gave up his land as security for the repayment of the money that he had borrowed. ? Executor—one who carries into effect the will of a person. 3 Eke—also. 4 Undoing—destruction, ruin, FOR CHILDREN. 149 THE ROBIN PURSUING A BUTTERFLY. Caw this be the bird to man so good, That, after their bewildering, Did cover with leaves the little children So painfully in the wood? What ailed thee, Robin, that thou couldst pursue A beautiful creature That is gentle by nature? Beneath the summer sky, From flower to flower let him fly ; *Tis all that he wishes to do. The cheerer thou of in-door sadness, He is the friend of our summer gladness, What hinders then that ye should be Playmates in the sunny weather, And fly about in the am together ? His beautiful wings in crimson are drest, A crimson as bright as thine own: If thou wouldst be happy in thy nest, O pious bird! whom man loves best, Love him, or leave him alone ! Wordsworth “EVERY LITTLE HELPS.” Wuar if a drop of rain should plead— ° “© So small a drop as I Can ne’er refresh the thirsty mead : I'll tarry in the sky.” 02 150 SELECT POETRY What, if the shining beam of noon Should in its fountain stay ; Because its feeble light alone Cannot create a day? Does not each rain-drop help to form The cool refreshing shower ? And every ray of light, to warm And beautify the flower? BIRDS IN SUMMER. How pleasant the life of a bird must be, Flitting about in each leafy tree ; In the leafy trees, so broad and tall, Like a green and beautiful palace-hall, With its airy chambers, light and boon,! That open to sun, and stars, and moon, That open unto the bright blue sky, And the frolicsome winds as they wander by They have left their nests in the forest bough ; Those homes of delight they need not now; And the young and the old they wander out, And traverse their green world round about: And hark! at the top of this leafy hall, How one to the other they lovingly call ; * Come up, come up!” they seem to say, “‘ Where the topmost twigs in the breezes sway!” 1 Boon—gay, cheerful. FOR CHILDREN. 151 « Come up, come up, for the world is fair, Where the merry leaves dance in the summer air!” And the birds below give back the cry, “© We come, we come, to the branches high !” How pleasant the life of a bird must be, Flitting about in a leafy tree ; And away through the air what joy to go, And to look on the bright, green earth below. How pleasant the life of a bird must be, Skimming about on the breezy sea, Cresting the billows like silvery foam, And then wheeling away to its cliff-built home ! What joy it must be to sail, upborne By a strong free wing, through the rosy morn, To meet the young sun face to face, And pierce like a shaft the boundless space ! How pleasant the life of a bird must be, Wherever it listeth,! there to flee ; To go, when a joyful fancy calls, Dashing adown ‘mong the waterfalls, Then wheeling about with its mates at play, Above and below, and among the spray, Hither and thither, with screams as wild As the laughing mirth of a rosy child ! What joy it must be, like a living breeze, To flutter about ’mong the flowering trees ; Lightly to soar, and to see beneath The wastes of the blossoming purple heath, 1 I isteth—chooses, pleases. 152 SELECT POETRY And the yellow furze, like fields of gold, That gladden some fairy regions old ! On mountain tops, on the billowy sea, On the leafy stems of the forest tree, How pleasant the life of a bird must be ! Mary Howitt. THE STRID; OR, THE FOUNDLING OF BOLTON PRIORY tr Youne Romilly through Barden woods Is ranging high and low, And holds a greyhound in a leash? To let slip on buck or doe. The pair have reached that fearful chasm, How tempting to bestride ! For lordly Wharf is there pent in With rocks on either side. This striding place is called “ the Strid,” A name which it took of yore ; A thousand years hath it borne that name, And shall a thousand more. And hither is young Romilly come ; And what may now forbid That he, perhaps for the hundredth time, Should bound across the Strid ? 1 Bolton Priory—a celebrated Abbey, now in ruins, rc- mantically situated on the banke of the Wharf, in York- shire. 2 Leash—a leathern thong. FOR CHILDREN. 153 He sprang in glee—for what cared he That the river was strong, and the rocks were steep P But the greyhound in the leash hung back, And checked him in his leap ! The boy is in the arms of Wharf! And strangled with a merciless forcee— For never more was young Romilly seen Till he rose a lifeless corse ! Long, long in darkness his mother sat, And her first words were, “ Let there be In Bolton, on the field of Wharf, A stately Priory !” The stately priory was reared, And Wharf, as he moved along, To matins? joined a mournful voice, Nor failed at even-song.* And the lady prayed in heaviness That looked not for relief; But slowly did her succour come, And patience to her grief. Oh! there is never sorrow of heart That shall lack a timely end, If but to God we turn, and ask Of him to be our friend. Wordsworth. ' Matins—morning prayers, as performed or chanted in Roman Catholic churches. * Even-song——evening service, corresponding to that of the morning. 154 SELECT POETRY THE EXAMPLE OF BIRDS. Rine-pove ! resting benignly calm, Tell my bosom thy secret balm ; Blackbird! straining thy tuneful throat, Teach my spirit thy thankful note ; Small Wren ! building thy happy nest, Where shall I find a home of rest ? Eagle! cleaving the vaulted sky, Teach my nature to soar as high; Sky-lark ! winging thy way to heaven, Be thy track to my footsteps given ! FRIENDSHIP. Swat service is true service, while it lasts; Of friends, however humble, spurn not one ; The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun. . Wordsworth. THE ORPHAN BOY. Lady, lady, stay, for mercy’s sake, _ And hear a helpless Orphan’s tale : Ab! sure my looks must pity wake,— Tis want that makes my cheeks so pale. Yet I was once a mother’s pride, And my brave father’s hope and joy 3 FOR CHILDREN. 155 Bat in the Nile’s proud fight he died, And I am now an Orphan Boy ! Poor foolish child—how pleased was I, When news of Nelson’s victory came, Along the crowded streets to fly, . And see the lighted windows flame! To force me home my mother sought,— She could not bear to see my joy ; For with my father’s life 'twas bought, And made me a poor Orphan Boy ! The people’s shouts were long and loud ; My mother, shuddering, closed her ears ; * Rejoice! rejoice!” still cried the crowd,— - My mother answered with her tears. ** Why are you crying so,” said I, “While others laugh and shout for joy ?” She kissed me, and with such a sigh, ‘She called me her poor Orphan Boy ! “ What is an Orphan Boy ?” I said, When suddenly she gasped for breath, And her eyes closed—I shrieked for aid, But, ah! her eyes were closed in death ! My hardships since I will not tell ;— But now no more a parent’s joy, . Ah! lady, I have learned too well ‘What ‘tis to be an Orphan Boy ! Mrs..O 156 SELECT POETRY THE OLD MAN’S COMFORTS, AND HOW HE GAINED THEM. © You are old, Father William.” the young man cried, “The few locks which are left you are grey ; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man; Now tell me the reason, I pray ?” “In the days of my youth,” Father William replied, “J remembered that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health and my vigour at first, That [ never might need them at last.” “You are old, Father William,” the young man cried, * And pleasures with youth pass away, And yet you lament not the days that are gone; Now tell me the reason, I pray ? “In the days of my youth,” Father William replied, «I remembered that youth could not last; I thought of the future, whatever I did, That I never might grieve for the past.” “You are old, Father William,” the young man cried, * And life must be hastening away : You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death ; Now tell me the reason, I pray ?” FOR CHILDREN. 157 “ 1 am cheerful, young man,” father Wilham re- plied, “ Let the cause thy attention engage ; In the days of my youth I remembered my God! And He hath not forgotten my age!” Southey. GOD PROVIDETH FOR THE MORROW! Lo the lilies of the field, How their leaves instruction yield ! Hark to Nature’s lesson, given By the blessed birds of heaven ! Every bush and tufted tree Warbles sweet philosophy :— Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow: God provideth for the morrow ! “ Say, with richer crimson glows The kingly mantle, than the rose? Say, have kings more wholesome fare Than we poor citizens of air? Barns nor hoarded grain have we, Yet we carol merrily ; Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow: God provideth for the morrow ! * One there lives whose guardian eye Guides our humble destiny ; One there lives, who, Lord of all, Keeps our feathers, lest they fall. Pass we blithely, then, the time, Fearless of the snare and lime,' Lime—birdlime, a substance used by birdcatchera P 158 SELECT POETRY Free from doubt and faithless sorrow, God provideth for the morrow!” Heber, THE WORM AND THE SNAIL; OR, BE CONTENT WITH YOUR LOT. A LITTLE worm, too close that played In contact with a gardener’s spade, Writhing about in sudden pain, Perceived that he was cut in twain; His nether ‘half left short and free, Much doubting its identity. However, when the shock was past, New circling rings were formed so fast By Nature's hand, which fails her never, That soon he was as long as ever; But yet the insult and the pain This little reptile did retain, In what, in man, is called the brain. One fine spring evening, bright and wet, Ere yet the April sun was set, When slimy reptiles craw] and coil Forth from the soft and humid soil, He left his subterranean clay, To move along the gravelly way ; Where suddenly his course was stopt By something on the path that dropt; When, with precaution and surprise, He straight shrunk up to half his size. FOR CHILDREN, 159 That ’twas a stone was first his notion, But soon discovered locomotion, He recognized the coat of mail And horny antlers of a snail, Which some young rogue (we beg his pardon) Had flung into his neighbour's garden. The snail, all shattered and infirm, Deplored his fate, and told the worm :— * Alas!” says he, “ I know it well, All this is owing to my shell ; They could not send me up so high, Describing circles in the sky, But that, on this account, ’tis known I bear resemblance to a stone: Would I could rid me of my case, And find a tenant for the place ! I'll make it known to all my kin ;— This house to let—inquire within !” “Good!” says the worm, “the bargain’s struck ; I take it, and admire my luck! That shell, from which you'd fain be free, Is just the very thing for me. Oft have 1 wished, when danger calls, For such impervious' castle walls, Both for defence and shelter made, From greedy crow, and murderous spade : Yes, neighbour snail, I'll hire the room, And pay the rent when strawberries come.” * Do,” says the snail, “ and I'll declare You'll find the place in good repair ; \ Impervious— that cannot be passed through, inaccesstble. 160 SELECT POETRY With winding ways, that will not fail To accommodate your length of tail.” (This fact the wily rogue concealing— The fall had broken in his ceiling.) “ Oh,” says the sanguine worm, “ I knew That I might safely deal with you;” Thus was the tenement transferred, And that without another word. Off went the snail in houseless plight ; Alas! it proved a frosty night, And ere a peep of morning light, One wish supreme he found prevail ; In all the world this foolish snail Saw nothing he should like so well— Which was—that he had got a shell. But soon for this he ceased to sigh ; A little duck came waddling by, Who, having but a youthful bill, Had ventured not so large a pill, (E’en at imperious hunger’s call) As this poor reptile, house and all; But finding such a dainty bite All ready to his appetite, Down went the snail, whose last lament Mourned his deserted tenement. Meantime the worm had spent his strength In vain attempts to curl his length His small apartment's space about, For head or tail must needs stick out, Now, if this last was left, twas more Exposed to danger than before, And “ ’twould be vastly strange,” he said, « To sit in-doors without one’s head.”— ¥OR CHILDREN. 161 Alas! he now completely bears The unknown weight of household cares, And wishes much some kind beholder Would take the burden off his shoulder. Now broke the dawn; and soon with fear, Feeling the shock of footsteps near He tried to reach that wished-for goal, The shelter of a neighbouring hole, Which proved, when danger threatened sore, A certain refuge heretofore. But failed him now this last resort ; His new appendage stopped him short; For all his efforts would not do To force it in, or drag it through. Oh then, poor worm! what words can say How much he wished his shell away ! But wishes all were vain, for oh! The garden roller, dreaded foe ! Came growling by, and did not fail To crush our hero head and tail, —Just when the duck devoured the snail. Thus says the fable :—‘ Learn from hence, Tt argues want of common sense To think our trials and our labours Harder and heavier than our neighbours’ ; Or that ’twould lighten toils and cares, To give them ours in change for theirs : For whether man’s appointed lot Be really equalized or uot, (A point we need not now discuss, ) Habit makes ours the best to us.” Jane Taylor P2 162 SELECT POETRY THE INNOCENT THIEF. FROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE, Not a flower can be found in the fields, Or the spot that we till for our pleasure, From the largest to least, but it yields The bee, never wearied, a treasure. Scarce any she quits unexplored, With a diligence truly exact ; Yet steal what she may for her hoard, Leaves evidence none of the fact. Her lucrative task she pursues, And pilfers with so much address, That none of their odour they lose, Nor charm by their beauty the less. Not thus inoffensively preys The canker-worm, indwelling foe ! His voracity not thus allays The sparrow, the finch, or the crow. The worm, more expensively fed, The pride of the garden devours : And birds peck the seed from the bed, Still less to be spared than the flowers. But she, with such delicate skill Her pillage so fits for her use, That a chemist in vain with his still! Would labour the like to produce. 1 Still —a vessel used in distillation, or the process of ex- trocting the spirit from fiquide. FOR CHILDREN. 163 Then grudge not her temperate meals, Nor a benefit blame as a theft, Since, stole she not! all that she steals, Neither honey nor wax would be left. Cowper. QUESTIONS TO BIRDS AND THEIR ANSWERS, cuckoo. Wry art thou always welcome, lonely bird ? —“The heart grows young again when I am heard; Not in my double note the magic lies, But in the fields, the woods, the streams and skies,” KINGFISHER, Why dost thou hide thy beauty from the sun ? — The eye of men, but not of heaven, I shun; Beneath the rushy bank, with alders crowned, I build and brood where running waters sound ; There, there the haleyon* peace may still be found.” PHEASANT. Pheasant, forsake the country; come to town ! Ill warrant thee a place beneath the crown. — No; not to roost upon the throne would I Renounce the woods, the mountains, and the sky.” STORK. Stork, why were human virtues given to thee ? — That human beings might resemble me ; ! Stole she not—if she did not steal. ? Halcyon—the Greek name for the Kingfisher. The word generally means, as in this place, quiet and placid, from the retiring and peaceful habits of the bird. 164 SELECT POETRY Kind to my offspring, to my partner true, And duteous to my parents—what are you ?” Montgomery THE COTTAGER AND HIS LANDLORD FROM THE LATIN OF MILTON. A peasant to his lord paid yearly court, Presenting pippins of so rich a sort, That he, displeased to have a part alone, Removed the tree, that all might be his own. The tree, too old to travel, though before So fruitful, withered, and would yield no more. The squire, perceiving all his labour void, Cursed his own pains, so foolishly employed ; And, “ Oh!” he cried, “ that I had lived content With tribute, small indeed, but kindly meant ! My avarice has expensive proved to me, And cost me both my pippins and my tree.” Cowper. THE PARROT. Tue deep affections of the breast, That Heaven to living things imparts, Are not exclusively possessed By human hearts. A Parrot, from the Spanish main, Full young, and early caged, came o’er, With bright wings, to the bleak domain Of Mulla’s! shore, Mulla—the island of Mull, one of the Hebrides, situated on the north-west of Scotland. FOR CHILDREN. 165 To spicy groves, where he had won His plumage of resplendent hue, His native fruits, and skies, and sun, He bade adieu. For these he changed the smoke of turf, A heathery land and misty sky, And turned on rocks and raging surf His golden eye. But, petted, in our climate cold He lived and chatted many a day ; Until with age, from green and gold, His wings grew grey. At last, when blind and seeming dumb, He scolded, laughed, and spoke no more, A Spanish stranger chanced to come To Mulla’s shore ; He hailed the bird in Spanish speech, The bird in Spanish speech replied, Flapped round his cage with joyous screech, Dropt down, and died. Campbell, A FAIRY’S SONG.’ Come, follow, follow me, Ye fairy elves that be; Light tripping o’er the green, Come follow Mab, your queen ! 1 This song which is taken, with little alteration, from Percy’s Reliques, appears to have been first published in the year 1658. 166 SELECT POETRY Hand in hand we'll dance around, For this place is fairy ground. When mortals are at rest, And snoring in their nest, Unheard and unespied Through key-holes we do glide ; Over tables, stools, and shelves, We trip it with our fairy elves. And if the house is swept, And from uncleanness kept, We praise the household maid, And duly she is paid ; For every night before we go, We drop a tester’ in her shoe. Then o’er the mushroom’s head Our table-cloth we spread ; A grain of rye or wheat, The manchet? that we eat ; Pearly drops of dew we drink In acorn-cups filled to the brink. The grasshopper, gnat, and fly, Serve for our minstrelsy ; Grace said, we dance awhile, And so the time beguile ; And if the moon doth hide her head, The glow-worm lights us home to bed O’er tops of dewy grass So nimbly do we pass, Tester—a sixpence. 2 Manchet—a emall white loaf—food, FOR CHILDREN, 167 The young and tender stalk Ne’er bends where we do walk ; Yet in the morning may be seen Where we the night before have been. THE DOG OF ST. BERNARD'S, Tuey tell that on St. Bernard’s! mount, Where holy monks abide, Still mindful of misfortane’s claim, Though dead to all beside; The weary, way-worn traveller Oft sinks beneath the snow ; For, where his faltering steps to bend No track is left to show. "Twas here, bewildered and alone, A stranger roamed at night; His heart was heavy as his tread, His scrip alone was light. Onward he pressed, yet, many an hour He had not tasted food ; And many an hour he had not known Which way his footsteps trod ; And if the convent’s bell had rung To hail the pilgrim near, It still had rung in vain for him— He was too far to hear ; 1 St. Bernard’s—a lofty mountain, one of the Alps, in Switzerland, on the summit of which is a monastery, whose inmates are accustomed to give hospitable shelter to the weary traveller. 168 SELECT POETRY And should the morning light disclose Its towers amid the snow, To him ’twould be a mournful sight— He had not strength to go. Valour could arm no mortal man That night to meet the storm— No glow of pity could have kept A human bosom warm. But obedience to a master’s will Had taught the Dog! to roam, And through the terrors of the waste, To fetch the wanderer home. And if, it be too much to say That pity gave him speed, ‘Tis sure he not unwillingly Performed the generous deed. For now he listens—and anon He scents the distant breeze, And casts a keen and anxious look On every speck he sees. And now deceived he darts along, As if he trod the air-— Then disappointed, droops his head With more than human care. He never loiters by the way, Nor lays him down to rest, 1 The hospitable monks keep a number of wild-looking but sagacious dogs, which they send forth in stormy weather to reacue travellers. YOR CHILDREN. 169 Nor seeks a refuge from the shower That pelts his generous breast. And surely ‘tis not less than joy That makes it throb so fast, When he sees, extended on the snow The wanderer found at last. *Tis surely he—he saw him move, And at the joyful sight He tossed his head with a prouder air, His fierce eye grew more bright; Eager emotion swelled his breast To tell his generous tale— And he raised his voice to its loudest tone To bid the wanderer hail. The pilgrim heard—he raised his head, And beheld the shaggy form— With sudden fear, he seized the gun That rested on his arm ; “ Ha! art thou come to rend alive What dead thou mightst devour ? And dost thy savage fury grudge My one remaining hour ?” Fear gave him back his wasted strength, He took his aim too well— The bullet bore the message home— The injured mastiff fell. His eye was dimmed, his voice was still, And he tossed his head no more— Buthis heart, though it ceased to throb with joy, Was generous as before ! Q 170 SELECT POETRY For round his willing neck he bore A store of needful food,! That might support the traveller’s strength On the yet remaining road. Enough of parting life remained _ His errand to fulfil— One painful, dying effort more Might save the murderer still. So he heeded not his aching wound But crawled to the traveller's side, Marked with a look the way he came, Then shuddered, groaned, and died !* Miss Fry. SUMMER. Tis June—the merry, smiling June— Tis blushing summer now, The rose is red, the bloom is dead, The fruit is on the bough. The bird-cage hangs upon the wall, Amid the clustering vine ; The rustic seat is in the porch, Where honeysuckles twine. The rosy, ragged urchins play Beneath the glowing sky ; They scoop the sand, or gaily chase The bee that buzzes by. ' A bottle of wine and a loaf are tied round the necks of these dogs when they are sent forth. * It is said, that the traveller, tracing the dog’s footsteps in the snow, reached the convent in safety. FOR CHILDREN. 171 The household spaniel flings his length Beneath the sheltering wall ; The panting sheep-dog seeks the spot Where leafy shadows fall. The petted kitten frisks among The bean-flowers’ fragrant maze ; Qr, basking, throws her dappled form To catch the warmest rays. The opened casements, flinging wide, Geraniums give to view ; With choicest posies ranged between, Still wet with morning dew. The mower whistles o’er his toil, The emerald grass must yield ; The scythe is out, the swarth is down, There’s incense in the field. Oh ! how I love to calmly muse, In such an hour as this ! To nurse the joy creation gives, In purity and bliss, Eliza Cook. INCIDENT, CHARACTERISTIC O¥ A FAVOURITE DOG. On his morning rounds, the master Goes to learn how all things fare ; Searches pasture after pasture, Sheep and cattle eyes with care ; And for silence or for talk, He hath comrades in his walk; 172 SELECT POETRY Four dogs, each pair of different breed, Distinguished two for scent, and two for speed. See a hare before him started ! Off they fly in earnest chase ; Every dog is eager-hearted ; All the four are in the race: And the hare whom they pursue Hath an instinct what to do ; Her hope is near; no turn she makes ; But, like an arrow, to the river takes. Deep the river was, and crusted Thinly by a one night’s frost, But the nimble hare hath trusted To the ice, and safely crossed ; She hath crossed, and without heed All are following at full speed ; When lo ! the ice, so thinly spread, Breaks—and the greyhound, Dart, is over-head ! Better fate have Prince and Swallow— See them cleaving to the sport! Music hath no heart to follow, Little Music she stops short, She hath neither wish nor heart ; Hers is now another part— A loving creature she, and brave ! And fondly strives her struggling friend to save. From the brink her paw she stretches, Very hands, as you would say, And afflicting moans she fetches As he breaks the ice away. FOR CHILDREN. 173 For herself she hath no fears— Him alone she sees and hears, Makes efforts and complainings, nor gives o'er Until her fellow sank, and re-appeared no more. Wordsworth. THE TRAVELLER IN AFRICA! A NEGRO SONG, Tue loud wind roared, the rain fell fast, The white man yielded to the blast ; He sate him down beneath our tree, For weary, sad, and faint was he: And, ah! no wife nor mother’s care For him the milk and corn prepare. CHORUS. The white man shall our pity share ; Alas! no wife or mother’s care For him the milk and corn prepare. The storm is o'er, the tempest past, And mercy’s voice has hushed the blast ; The wind is heard in whispers low, The white man far away must go: But ever in his heart will bear Remembrance of the negro’s care. CHORUS. Go! white man, go! but with thee bear The negro’s wish, the negro’s prayer, Remembrance of the negro’s care. Duchess of Devon. 1 These lines were suggested by an affecting incident in the travels of Mungo Park in Africa, for the particulars of which the young reader may refer to the 16th chapter of his own interesting narrative. Q2 174 SELECT POETRY THE HAREBELL AND THE FOXGLOVE. In a valley obscure on a bank of green shade, A sweet little Harebell her dwelling had made : Her roof was a woodbine, that tastefully spread Its close-woven tendrils, o’er-arching her head ; Her bed was of moss, that each morning made new 5 She dined on a sunbeam, and supped on the dew; Her neighbour, the Nightingale, sung her to rest, And care had ne’er planted a thorn in her breast. One morning she saw on the opposite side, A Foxglove displaying his colours of pride ; She gazed on his form, that in stateliness grew, And envied his height and his beautiful hue ; She marked how the flowerets all gave way before him, While they pressed round her dwelling with far Jess decorum. Dissatisfied, jealous, and peevish she grows, And the sight of this Foxglove destroys her repose ; She tires of her vesture, and, swelling with spleen, Cries, “Ne'er such a dowdy blue mantle was seen |” Nor keeps to herself any longer her pain, But thus to a Primrose begins to complain: “ IT envy your mood, that can patient abide The respect paid that Foxglove, his airs and his pride: FOR CHILDREN. VW5 There you sit, still the same, with your colourless cheek ; But you have no spirit—would I were as meek !” The Primrose, good-humoured, replied, “If you knew More about him—(remember I’m older than you, And, better instructed, can tell you his tale)— You would envy him least of all flowers in this vale; With all his fine airs and his dazzling show, No flower more baneful and odious can blow ; And the reason the others before him give way, Is because thev all hate him, and shrink from his sway. To stay near him long would be fading or death, For he scatters a pest with his venomous breath; While the flowers that you fancy are crowding you there, Spring round you delighted your converse to share; His flame-coloured robe is imposing, ’tis true ; Yet who likes it so well as your mantle of blue? For we know that of innocence one is the vest, The other the cloak of a treacherous breast. I see your surprise—but I know him full well, And have numbered his victims as fading they fell; He blighted twin violets that under him lay, And poisoned a sister of mine the same day.” The Primrose was silent; the Harebell, ’tis said, Inclined for a moment her beautiful head, But quickly recovered her spirits, and then Declared that she ne’er would feel envy again. 176 SELECT POETRY THE CICADA! OR TREEHOPPER. FROM THE GREEK OF ANACREON. Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee ? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning's gentle wine ; Nature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill. Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing Happier than the happiest king ! All the fields which thou dost see, All the plants belong to thee, All that summer hours produce, Fertile made with early juice ; Man for thee does sow and plough, Farmer he, and landlord thou ! Thou dost innocently enjoy, Nor does thy luxury destroy ; Thee country hinds with gladness hear, Prophet of the ripened year ! To thee, of all things upon earth, Life is no longer than thy mirth, Happy insect! happy thou Dost neither age nor winter know ;* 1 The cicada is sometimes confounded with the grass- hopper, to which family, however, it does not belong. * The notion of the cicada's enjoying perpetual youth, it is needless to say, is a mere fancy of the poet.—'The Greeks seem to have manifested an extraordinary attachment to the insect. FOR CHILDREN, 177 But when thou’st drunk, and danced and sung Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, Sated with thy summer feast Thou retirest to endless rest. Cowley. THE CRICKET. FROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE. LitrLx inmate, full of mirth, Chirping on my kitchen hearth, Whereso’er be thine abode. Always harbinger of good,! Pay me for thy warm retreat With a song more soft and sweet ; In return thou shalt receive Such a strain as I can give. Thus thy praise shall be expressed, Inoffensive, welcome guest ! While the rat is on the scout, And the mouse with curious snout, With what vermin else* infest Every dish and spoil the best ; Frisking thus before the fire Thou hast all thy heart’s desire. Though in voice and shape they be Formed as if akin to thee, ' The cricket, being attracted by the warmth and comfort of the hearth, is to be regarded rather as the attendant, than tLe harbinger of plenty and abundance. 3 With what vermin else—and other vermin besides. 178 SELECT POETRY Thou surpassest, happier far, Happiest grasshoppers ' that are ; Theirs is but a summer song, Thine endures the winter long, Unimpaired, and shrill and clear, Melody throughout the year. Cowper THE LOCUST. THE locust is fierce, and strong, and grim, And an armed man is afraid of him: He comes like a winged shape of dread, With his shielded back and his armed head, And his double wings for hasty flight, And a keen, unwearying appetite. He comes with famine and fear along, An army a million million strong ; The Goth and the Vandal, and dwarfish Hun,? With their swarming people, wild and dun, Brought not the dread that the locust brings. When is heard the rush of their myriad wings. From the deserts of burning sand they speed, Where the lions roam and the serpents breed, Far over the sea, away, away ! And they darken the sun at noon of day. 1 In allusion to the insect which is the subject of the pre. ceding poem. 2 Goths, Vandals, and Huns—barbarian nations of the north, celebrated in history as the invaders, and at last, the destroyers, of the Roman empire. FOR CHILDREN. 179 Like Eden the land before they find, But they leave it a desolate waste behind.! The peasant grows pale when he sees them come, And standeth before them weak and dumb ; For they come like a raging fire in power, And eat up @ harvest in half an hour ; And the trees are bare, and the land is brown, As if trampled and trod by an army down. There is terror in every monarch’s eye, When he hears that this terrible foe is nigh ; For he knows that the might of an armed host Cannot drive the spoiler from out his coast, That terror and famine his land await, And from north to south ‘twill be desolate. Thus, the ravening locust is strong and grim ; And what were an armed man to him ? Fire turneth him not, nor sea prevents, He is stronger by far than the elements ! 1 The prophet Joel, (ii. 3, 7, 8,) referring to the invasion of locusts, thus writes :— A fire devoureth before them. And behind them a flame burneth : The land is as the Garden of Eden before them, And behind them a desolate wilderness ; Yea, and nothing shall escape them. . . * * * And they shall march every one on his way, And they shall not break their ranks ; Neither shall one thrust another ; They shall walk every one in his path; And when they fall on the sword, they shall not be wounded. 180 SELECT POETRY The broad green earth is his prostrate prey, And he darkens the sun at the noon of day ! Mary Howitt. BRUCE AND THE SPIDER. For Scotland's and for freedom’s right, The Bruce his part had played, In five successive fields of fight, Been conquered and dismayed : Once more against the English host His band he led, and once more lost The meed for which he fought ; And now from battle, faint and worn, The homeless fugitive forlorn A hut’s lone shelter sought. And cheerless was that resting place For him who claimed a throne : His canopy, devoid of grace, The rude, rough beams alone ; The heather couch his only bed— Yet well I ween’ had slumber fled* From couch of eider down ! Through darksome night till dawn of day, Absorbed in wakeful thought he lay Of Scotland and her crown. The sun rose brightly and its gleam Fell on that hapless bed, 1 Ween—think or imagine. 2 Had slumber fled—slumber would have fled. FOR CHILDREN, 181 And tinged with light each shapeless beam Which roofed the lowly shed ; When, looking up with wistful! eye, The Bruce beheld a spider try His filmy thread to fling From beam to beam of that rude cot ; And well the insect’s toilsome lot Taught Scotland’s future king. Six times his gossamery* thread The wary spider threw ; In vain the filmy line was sped, For powerless or untrue Each aim appeared, and back recoiled The patient insect, six times foiled, And yet unconquered still ; And soon the Bruce, with eager eye, Saw him prepare once more to try His courage, strength, and skill. One effort more, his seventh and last ! The hero hailed the sign ! And on the wished-for beam hung fast That slender, silken line ; Slight as it was, his spirit caught The more than omen, for his thought The lesson well could trace, Which even “he who runs may read,” That Perseverance gains its meed, And Patience wins the race. Bernard Barton. 1 Wistful—attentive, full of thought. ? Gossamery—light, ftimey. R 182 SELECT POETRY TO A SPANIEL ON HIS KILLING A BIRD. A SPANIEL, Beau, that fares like you, Well fed, and at his ease, Should wiser be than to pursue Each trifle that he sees. But you have killed a tiny bird, Which flew not till to-day, Against my orders, whom you heard Forbidding you the prey. Nor did you kill that you might eat, And ease a doggish pain, For him, though chaced with furious heat, You left where he was slain. Nor was he of the thievish sort, Or one whom blood allures, But innocence was all his sport Whom you have torn for yours. My dog! what remedy remains, Since, teach you all I can, I see you after all my pains, So much resemble man ? BEAU'S REPLY. Sir, when I flew to seize the bird In spite of your command, A louder veice than yours I heard, And harder to withstand. FOR CHILDREN. 183 You cried—forbear !—but in my breast A mightier cried—proceed ! "Twas Nature, Sir, whose strong behest Impelled me to the deed. Yet, much as Nature I respect, I ventured once to break (As you, perhaps, may recollect, ) Her precept for your sake ; And when your linnet, on a day, Passing his prison door, Had fluttered all his strength away, And panting, pressed the floor ; Well knowing him a sacred thing, Not destined to my tooth, I only kissed his ruffled wing, And licked his feathers smooth. Let my obedience then excuse My disobedience now, Nor some reproof yourself refuse From your aggrieved bow-wow ; If killing birds be such a crime, (Which I can hardly see,) What think you, Sir, of killing time With verse addressed to me ? Cowper. INDIA. Wuere sacred Ganges pours along the plain, And Indus rolls to swell the eastern main, What awful scenes the curious mind delight, What wonders burst upon the dazzled sight ! 184 SELECT POETRY There giant palms lift high their tufted heads, The plantain wide his graceful foliage spreads, Wild in the woods the active monkey springs, The chattering parrot claps his painted wings ; Mid tall bamboos lies hid the deadly snake, The tiger couches in the tangled brake ; The spotted axis bounds in fear away, The leopard darts on his defenceless prey. "Mid reedy pools and ancient forests rude, Cool peaceful haunts of awful solitude ! The huge rhinoceros rends the crashing boughs, And stately elephants untroubled browse. Two tyrant seasons rule the wide domain, Scorch with dry heat, or drench with floods of rain: Now, feverish herds rush madding o’er the plains, And cool in shady streams their throbbing veins ; The birds drop lifeless from the silent spray, And nature faints beneath the fiery day ; Then bursts the deluge on the sinking shore, And teeming plenty empties all her store. Atkin, TO THE BLACKBIRD. IN THE MORNING. Go.pEN Bill! Golden Bill! Lo! the peep of day ; All the air is cool and still, From the elm-tree op the hill Chant away ; 1 The Blackbird’s is the earliest note heard in the morn- ing. Inthe evening he takes his part with his minstrel brethren, chiming in at intervals. FOR CHILDREN. 185 While the moon drops down the west, And the stars before the sun Melt, like snow-flakes, one by one, Ere the lark has left his nest, Let thy loud and welcome lay Pour along Few notes, but strong. IN THE EVENING, Jet-bright wing! Jet-bright wing ! Flit across the sunset glade, Lying there in wait to sing, Listen, with thine head awry, Keeping time with twinkling eye, While from all the woodland shade, Birds of every plume and note Strain the throat, Till both hill and valley ring; And the warbled minstrelsy Ebbing, flowing, like the sea, Claims brief interludes from thee ; Then, with simple swell and fall, Breaking beautiful through all, Let thy pure, clear pipe repeat Few notes, but sweet. Montgomery. THE PEARL. A LITTLE particle of rain, That from a passing cloud descended, Was heard thus idly to complain :— My brief existence now is ended ; R2 186 SELECT POSTRY Outcast alike of earth and sky, Useless to live, unknown to die.” It chanced to fall into the sea— And there an open shell received it And, after years, how rich was he Who from its prison-house relieved it! That drop of rain had formed a gem, Fit for a monarch’s diadem. S.C. Hall. THE FLY. PaitazeEz,! little buzzing fly, Eddying round my taper, why Is it that its quivering light, Dazzling, captivates your sight ? Bright my taper is, 'tis true, Trust me, tis too bright for you ‘Tis a flame—vain thing, beware ! *Tis a flame you cannot bear. Touch it, and ’tis instant fate ; Take my counsel ere too late: Buzz no longer round and round, Settle on the wall or ground: Sleep till morn ; at daybreak rise, Danger then you may despise, Enjoying in the sunny air The life your caution now may spare. Lo! my counsel nought avails ; Round and round and round it sails ; 1 Prithee—I pray thee. FOR CHILDREN. 187 Sails with idle unconcern— Prithee, trifler, cans¢ thou burn? Madly heedless as thou art, Know thy danger, and depart: Why persist ?—I plead in vain, Singed it falls and writhes in pain. Is not this—deny who can— Is not this a type of man ? Like the fly, he rashly tries Pleasure’s burning sphere, and dies. Vain the friendly caution, still He rebels, alas! and will. What I sing let all apply, Flies are weak, and man’s a fly. Bruce. THE SWALLOW AND RED-BREAST. THE swallows, at the close of day, When autumn shone with fainter ray, Around the chimney circling flew, Ere yet they bade a long adieu To climes, where soon the winter drear Should close the unrejoicing year. Now with swift wing they skim aloof, Now settle on the crowded roof, As counsel and advice to take, Ere they the chilly north forsake ;—- Then one, disdainful, turned his eye Upon a red-breast twittering nigh, And thus began with taunting scorn :-— « Thou household imp, obscure, forlorn, 188 SELECT POETRY Through the deep winter’s dreary day, Here, dull and shivering, shalt thou stay, Whilst we, who make the world our home, To softer climes impatient roam, Where summer still on some green isle Rests, with her sweet and lovely smile. Thus, speeding far and far away, We leave behind the shortening day.” «Tis true,” the red-breast answered meek, ““No other scenes I ask, or seek ; To every change alike resigned, I fear not the cold winter's wind. When spring returns, the circling year Shall find me stil] contented here ; But whilst my warm affections rest Within the circle of my nest, T learn to pity those that roam, And love the more my humble home.” W. L. Bowles, MY FATHER’S AT THE HELM. Tue curling waves, with awful roar, A little boat assailed ; And pallid fear’s distracting power O’er all on board prevailed— Save one, the captain’s darling child, Who steadfast viewed the storm; And cheerful, with composure, smiled At danger’s threatening form. FOR CHILDREN. 189 ’ « And sport’st thou thus,” a seaman cried, «While terrors overwhelm ?” “Why should I fear ?” the boy replied, “ My father’s at the helm !” So when our worldly all is reft— Our earthly helper gone, We still have one true anchor left— God helps, and he alone. He to our prayers will bend an ear, He gives our pangs relief; He turns to smiles each trembling tear, To joy each torturing grief. Then turn to Him, ‘mid sorrows wild, When want and woes o’erwhelm ; Remembering, like the fearless child, Our Father's at the helm. THE UNREGARDED TOILS OF THE POOR. Aas! what secret tears are shed, What wounded spirits bleed ; What loving hearts are sundered, And yet man takes no head! He goeth in his daily course, Made fat with oil and wine, And pitieth not the weary souls That in his bondage pine, That turn for him the mazy wheel, That delve? for him the mine ! 1 Delue—dig. 190 SELECT POETRY And piteth not the children small Tn noisy factories dim, That all day long, lean, pale, and faint, Do heavy tasks for him ! To him they are but as the stones Beneath his feet that lie: It entereth not his thoughts that they From him claim sympathy : It entereth not his thoughts that God Heareth the sufferers groan, That in His righteous eye, their life Is precious as his own. Mary Howitt. THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. SHOWING HOW HE WENT FURTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN. Joun GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown ; A train-band! captain eke? was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin’s spouse said to her dear, “Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. Train-band—a company of men, not soldiers by pro ession, trained to martia) exercise in times of emergency. 2 Fke—also. FOR CHILDREN. 191 ‘“* To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton,! All in a chaise and pair. ‘ My sister, and my sister’s child, Myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise, so you must ride On horseback after we.” He soon replied, “I do admire Of womankind but one ; And you are she, my dearest dear, Therefore it shall be done. « T am a linen-draper bold, As all the world doth know ; And my good friend, the calender,” Will lend his horse to go.” Quoth3 Mistress Gilpin, “ That’s well said ; And for that‘ wine is dear, We will be furnished with our own, Which is both bright and clear.” John Gilpin kissed his loving wife ; O’erjoyed was he to find, That, though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind. 1 Edmonton—a village in the northern suburbs of Londor. 2 Calender—put for calenderer—one whose trade it is to give cloth a smooth and glossy surface by a mechanica? process, 3 Quoth—says, or sa‘d. * For that—because. 192 SELECT POETRY Tne morning came, the chaise was brought, But yet was not allowed To drive up to the door, lest all Should say that she was proud. So three doors off the chaise was stayed, Where they did all get in; Six precious souls, and all agog! To dash through thick and thin Smack went the whip, round went the wheels Were never folks so glad ; The stones did rattle underneath, As if Cheapside were mad. John Gilpin, at his horse's side, Seized fast the flowing mane, And up he got in haste to ride, But soon came down again ; For saddle-tree scarce reached had he His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came; for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more. "Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty, screaming, came down stairs,— * The wine is left behind !” 1 Agog—in a state ofdesire. FOR CHILDREN. 193 “ Good lack!” quoth he ; “ yet bring it me. My leathern belt likewise, In which I bear my trusty sword When I do exercise!” ! Now Mistress Gilpin—careful soul !— Had two stone bottles found, To hold the liquor that she loved, And keep it safe and sound. Each bottle had a curling ear, Through which the belt he drew ; And hung a bottle on each side, To make his balance true. Then over all, that he might be Equipped from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brushed and neat, He manfully did throw. Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full slowly pacing o'er the stones, With caution and good heed. But finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which galled him in his seat. So, “ Fair and softly !” John he cried, But John he cried in vain ; That trot became a gallop soon, In spite of curb and rein. ‘ane T do exercise—as captain of one of the train- s. 194 SELECT POETRY So stooping down, as needs he must Who cannot sit upright, He grasps the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. Away went Gilpin, neck or nought; Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt, when he set out, Of running such a rig.! The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, Like streamer long and gay, Till, loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung ; A bottle swinging at each side, As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up went the windows all, And every soul cried out, “ Well done !” As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin—who but he ? His fame soon spread around,— 1 Running a rig—an inelegant expression for getting into trouble. : FOR CHILDREN. 195 ‘« He carries weight !! he rides a race ! 1 ” ’Tis for a thousand pounds ! And still, as fast as he drew near, *Twas wonderful to view, How in a trice the turnpike-men Their gates wide open threw. And now, as he went bowing down His reeking? head full low, The bottles twain behind his back Were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse’s flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he seemed to carry weight, With leathern girdle braced ; For all might see the bottle necks Still dangling at his waist. Thus all through merry Islington These gambols he did play ; Until he came unto the Wash? Of Edmonton so gay ; And there he threw the wash about On both sides of the way ; Just like unto a trundling mop, ‘ Or a wild goose at play. ‘ 1 He carries weight~an expression used in horse-racing, when the rider carries something with him to make his weigh on the horse equal to that of a heavier man. 3 Reeking—smoking, steaming, ° The Wash—the horse-pond, lying partly in the road. 196 SELECT POETRY At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. “Stop, stop, John Gilpin! Here’s the house,” They all at once did cry, ‘ The dinner waits, and we are tired ” Said Gilpin, “ So am I.” But yet his horse was not a whit Inclined to tarry there ; For why ?—his owner had a house, Full ten miles off, at Ware. So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did he fly—which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin, out of breath, And sore against his will ; Till, at his friend the calender's His horse at last stood still. The calender, amazed to see His neighbour in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate. And thus accosted him. “What news ? what news? your tidings tell, Tell me you must, and shall— Say why bare-headed you are come, Or why you come at all ?” FOR CHILDREN 197 Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit And loved a timely! joke ; And thus unto the calender, In merry guise,? he spoke :-- I came because your horse would come ; And, if I well forebode, My hat and wig will soon be here, They are upon the road.” The calender, right glad to find His friend in merry pin’ Returned him not a single word, But to the house went in: Whence straight he came with hat and wig, A wig that flowed behind, | A hat not much the worse for wear, Each comely in its kind. He held them up, and in his turn Thus showed his ready wit,— “ My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. « But let me serape the dirt away That hangs upon your face ; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case.”4 Said John, “It is my wedding-day. And all the world would stare, 1 Timely—at the right time, seasonable. ® Guise—manner, mood. 3 Pin—mood, humour. * Case—condition, state. 8 2 198 SELECT POETRY If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware.” So turning to his horse, he said, ‘“«T am in haste to dine; "Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine.” Ah! luckless speech, and bootless! boast ! For which he paid full dear ; For, while he spoke, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear ; Whereat? his horse did snort, as he Had heard a lion roar, And galloped off with all his might, As he had done before. Away went Gilpin, and away Went Gilpin’s hat and wig ; He lost them sooner than at first, For why ?—they were too big. Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw Her husband posting down Into the country far away, She pulled out half-a-crown, And thus unto the youth she said That drove them to the Bell— “ This shall be yours, when you bring back My husband safe and well.” 1 Bootless—useless, unavailing. 2 Wf’hereut—at which. FOR CHILDREN 199 The youth did ride, and soon did meet John coming back amain,! Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein; But not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done ; The frighted steed he frighted more, And made him faster run. Away went Gilpin, and away Went postboy at his heels, The postboy’s horse right glad to miss The rumbling of the wheels. Six gentlemen upon the road, Thus seeing Gilpin fly, With postboy scampering in the rear, They raised the hue-and-cry :-—* Stop thief! stop thief!”— a highwayman ‘” Not one of them was mute ; And all and each that passed that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space ; > The toll-men thinking as before, That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, For he got first to town; Nor stopped till where he had got up He did again get down. 1 Amain—with vehemence, vigorously. 2 Hue-and-ery—properly, the term used in law to express the prrsuit of a thief, or other delinquent. 200 SELECT POETRY Now let us sing, “ Long live the king !! And Gilpin long live he !” And when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see ! Cowper, THE PINE-APPLES AND THE BEE. THE pine-apples, in triple row, Were basking hot, and all in blow; A bee of most discerning taste Perceived the fragrance as he passed ; On eager wing the spoiler came, And searched for crannies in the frame, Urged his attempt on every side, ‘To every pane his trunk applied ; But still in vain—the frame was tight, And only pervious? to the light : Thus having wasted half the day, He trimmed his flight another way. Our dear delights are often such, Exposed to view, but not to touch : The sight our foolish heart inflames, We long for pine-apples in frames: With hopeless wish, one looks and lingers ; One breaks the glass, and cuts his fingers ; But those whom truth and wisdom lead, Can gather honey from a weed. Cowper 1 This was written in George the Third’e reign. 2 Pervious—giving passage. FOR CHILDREN. 201 THE CAPTIVE SQUIRREL’S PETITION: ADDRESSED TO THE LITTLE GIRL WHO KEPT HIM. Au! little maiden, do you love in the summer woods to rove, When the gay lark’s song is in the cloud, the blackbird’s in the grove ; When the cowslip hangs her golden bells like jewels in the grass, . And each cup sends forth a tender sound as your bounding footsteps pass ; When the dew is on the willow-leaf and the sun looks o’er the hill, And Nature's loveliness with joy your inmost soul can thrill >— If songs of birds and summer flowers e’er filled your heart with glee, Oh! think upon my hapless fate, and set your captive free ! A'native of the dark green woods, my home is far away, Where gaily ‘mid the giant oaks, my bright-eyed offspring play ; Their couch is lined with softest moss, within an aged tree; The wind that sweeps the forest boughs, is not more blithe than we; And oft beneath our nimble feet the old sear! branches shake, As lightly through the beechen groves our merry way we take; ’ Sear—dry and withered, 202 SELECT POETRY The boundless forest was my home—how hard my fate must be, Confined within this narrow cage—oh! set your captive free ! Oh! if you love the pleasant woods, when silence reigns around, When the mighty shadows calmly sleep, like giants on the ground ; When the glow-worm sports her fairy lamp beside the moonlit stream, And the lofty trees in solemn state frown darkly in the beam ; When the blossomed thorn flings out its sweets, and the minstrel nightingale Pours forth his lay, and echo tells to distant hills the tale; And the soft mists hang a crown of gems on every bush and tree ; Oh! if you love the beauteous sight, then set your captive free ! Oh! think how hard your lot would be, in this dark room confined, Without a single friend to cheer the anguish of your mind ; Severed from every kindred tie, and left alone to wee ; O’er perished joys, when every eye is closed in tranquil sleep ! The glorious sunbeams to your heart no cheering light would bring, But heaviness and gloom would rest on every pleasant thing: FOR CHILDREN. 203 If freedom to your soul is dear, have pity then on me Unbar the narrow cage, and set your hapless prisoner free ! Susanna Strickland. EPITAPH ON A TAME HARE! Herz lies whom hound did ne’er vursue, Nor swifter greyhound follow ; Whose foot ne'er tainted morning's dew, Nor ear heard huntsman’s halloo; Old Tiney, surliest of his kind, Who, nursed with tender care, And to domestic bounds confined, Was still a wild Jack-hare. Though duly from my hand he took His pittance every night, He did it with a jealous look, And, when he could, would bite. His diet was of wheaten bread, And milk, and oats, and straw, Thistles, or lettuces instead, With sand to scour his maw.? 1 Tiney and Puss were the names of two tame hares kept many years by the poet Cowper :—on the death of Tiney he wrote these lines as a memorial. * Maw—stomach, 204 SELECT POETRY On twigs of hawthorn he regaled, Or pippin’s russet peel 5 And when his juicy salads failed, Sliced carrots pleased him well. A Turkey carpet was his lawn, Whereon he loved to bound, To skip and gambol like a fawn, And swing his rump around. His frisking was at evening hours, For then he lost his fear, But most before approaching showers Or when a storm drew near. Eight years and five round rolling moons He thus saw steal away ; Dozing out all his idle noons, And every night at play. I kept him for his humour’s sake, For he would oft beguile My heart of thoughts that made it ache, And force me to a smile. But now beneath this walnut shade, He finds his long last home, And waits, in snug concealment laid, Till gentler Puss shall come. She, still more aged, feels the shocks From which no care can save ; And, partner once of Tiney’s box, Must soon partake his grave. Cowper FOR CHILDREN. 205 THE REVEILLE:! Up! quit thy bower, late wears the hour, Long have the rooks cawed round the tower ; O’er flower and tree loud hums the bee, And the wild kid sports merrily :— The sun is bright, the skies are clear ; Wake, lady ! wake, and hasten here. Up! maiden fair, and bind thy hair, And rouse thee in the breezy air; The lulling stream that soothed thy dream Is dancing in the sunny beam, Waste not these hours, so fresh, so gay, Leave thy soft couch and haste away. Up! time will tell, the morning bell Its service-sound* has chimed well ; The aged crone® keeps house alone, The reapers to the fields are gone. Lose not these hours, so cool, so gay, Lo! while thou sleep’st they haste away. Miss Baillie. GOOD NIGHT! Tue sun is down, the day gone by, The stars are twinkling in the sky ; 1 Reveillé—the notice that it is time to rise; properly used as a military term. ‘Service-sound—sound for matins, or morning prayers. 3 Crone—an old woman, T 206 SELECT POETRY Nor torch nor taper longer may Eke out! a blithe but stinted* day ! The hours have passed with stealthy flight ; We needs must part; good night, good night The lady in her curtained bed, The herdsman in his wattled shed,? The clansman‘ in the heathered hall,® Sweet sleep be with you, one and all ; We part in hopes of days as bright As this gone by; good night, good night ! Sweet sleep be with us, one and all ! And if upon its stillness fall The visions of a busy brain, We'll have our pleasure o’er again, To warm the heart, to charm the sight ! Gay dreams to all! good night, good night! Miss Baillie. CONSTANTINOPLE Wuenre the Thracian channel® roars On lordly Europe’s eastern shores, Where the proudly jutting land Frowns on Asia’s western strand, 1 Eke out—lengthen, * Stinted—limited—too short. 2 Wattled-shed—a shed, the walls of which are made of twigs and sticks twisted or woven together, + Clansman—a member of a clan, or family—here a de- pendent member, whose place is in the hall. 5 Heuthered hall—strewn with heath to lie on. © Thracian channel—the Straits of Constantinople. FOR CHILDREN. 207 High on seven hills is seen to shine The second Rome of Constantine. Beneath her feet, with graceful pride, Propontis! spreads his ample tide ; His fertile banks profusely pour Of luscious fruits a varied store ; Rich with a thousand glittering dyes, His flood a finny shoal supplies ; While crowding sails on rapid wing The rifled south’s bright treasures bring. With crescents gleaming to the skies, Mosques and minarets* arise ; Mounted on whose topmost wall, The turban’d priests to worship call. The mournful cypress rises round, Tapering from the burial-ground ; Olympus, ever capped with snow, Crowns the busy scene below. Atkin, SONG OF THE NORTH WIND. 1 am here trom the north, the frozen north, ‘Tis a thousand leagues away ; And I left, as I came from my cavern forth, The streaming lights? at play. 1 Propentis—the Sea of Marmora. ? Minarets—high, slender turrets, * The streaming lights—the northern lights, or auroru borealis, 208 SELECT POETRY From the deep sea’s verge to the zenith high, At one vast leap they flew, And kindled a blaze in the midnight sky, O’er the glittering icebergs blue. The frolicsome waves they shouted to me, As I swept their thousands past, “ Where are the chains that can fetter the sea ?”— - But I bound the boasters fast. In their pride of strength, the pine trees tall Of my coming took no heed ; But I bowed the proudest of them all, As if it had been a reed. I found the tops of the mountains bare, And I gave them a crown of snow; And roused the hungry wolf from his lair, To hunt the Esquimaux. ‘I saw where lay in the forest spent The fire of the embers white ; And I breathed on the lordly element, And nursed it into might. It floateth amain, my banner red, With a proud and lurid glare ; And the fir-clad hills, as torches dread, Flame in the wintry air. O’er valley and hill and mere! I range, And, as I sweep along, Gather all sounds that are wild and strange, And mingle them in my song. 1 Mere—a large lake. FOR CHILDREN. 209 My voice hath been uttered everywhere, And the sign of my presence seen ; But the eye of man the form I woar Hath never beheld, I ween ! THE AMBITIOUS WEED; OR, THE DANGER OF SELF-CONFIDENCE. AN idle weed that used to crawl Unseen behind the garden wall, (Its most becoming station, ) At last, refreshed by sun and showers, Which nourish weeds, as well as flowers, Amused its solitary hours With thoughts of elevation, These thoughts encouraged day by day, It shot forth many an upward spray, And many a tendril band ; But as it could not climb alone, It uttered oft a lazy groan To moss and mortar, stick and stone, To lend a helping hand. At length, by friendly arms sustained The aspiring vegetable gained The object of its labours: That which had cost her many a sigh, And nothing else would satisfy — Which was not only being high But higher than her neighbours. r2 210 SELECT POETRY And now this weed, though weak, and spent With climbing up the steep ascent, Admired her figure tall ; And then (for vanity ne’er ends With that which it at first intends) Began to laugh at those poor friends Who helped her up the wall. But by and by, my lady spied The garden on the other side: And fallen was her crest, To see, in neat array below, & bed of all the flowers that blow— Lily and rose—a goodly show, In fairest colours drest. Recovering from her first surprise, She soon began to criticise :— “A dainty sight, indeed ! I’d be the meanest thing that blows Rather than that affected Rose; Su much perfume offends my nose,” Exclaimed the vulgar weed. “ Well, ’tis enough to make one chill;, To see that pale consumptive Lily Among these painted folks. Miss Tulip too looks wondrous odd, She's gaping like a dying cod ;— What a queer stick is Golden-Rod ! And how the Violet pokes ! “Not for the gayest tint that lingers On Honeysuckle’s rosy fingers, Would I with her exchange : FOR CHILDREN. 211 Since this, at least, is very clear, Since they are there, and I am here, I occupy a higher sphere— Enjoy a wider range.” Alas! poor envious weed !—for lo, That instant came the gardener’s hoe And lopped her from her sphere : But none lamented when she fell ; No passing Zephyr sighed, ‘“ Farewell ;” No friendly Bee would hum her knell ; No Fairy dropt a tear ;— While those sweet flowers of genuine worth, Inclining toward the modest earth, Adorn the vale below ; Content to hide in slyvan dells Their rosy buds and purple bells; Though scarce a rising Zephyr tells The secret where they grow. Jane Taylor. THE GLORY OF GOD. T PRAISED the earth, in beauty seen, With garlands gay of various green ; I praised the sea, whose ample field Shone glorious as a silver shield : But earth and ocean seemed to say, ‘* Our beauties are but for a day.” I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled On wheels of amber and of gold; 213 SELECT POETRY 1 praised the moon, whose softer eye Smiled sweetly through the summer sky: But moon and sun in answer said, * Our days of light are numbered.” O God! O good beyond compare, If these thy meaner works are fair, If these thy bounties gild the span Of ruined earth and sinful man, How glorious must those mansions be Where thy redeemed ones dwell with thee. Heber, ST. PHILIP NERI! AND THE YOUTH. St. Partie Nert, as old writers say, Met a young stranger in Rome’s streets one day; And, being ever courteously inclined To give young folks a sober turn of mind, He fell into discourse with him ; and thus The dialogue they held comes down to us :— St, P. N. Tell me what brings you, gentle youth, to Rome ? Youth. To make myself a scholar, Sir, I come. St. P. N. And, when you are one, what do you intend P Youth. To be a priest, I hope, Sir, in the end. St. P. N. Suppose it so—what have you next in view P Youth, That I may get to be a canon, too. 1 St. Philip Neri—an eminent Roman Catholic priest, who flourished in the 16th century. FOR CHILDREN. 213 St. P, N. Well: and how then ? Youth. Why then, for aught I know, I may be made a bishop. St. P. N. Be it so—~ What then ? Youth. Why, cardinal’s a high degree. And yet my lot it possibly may be. St. P. N. Suppose it was—what then ? Youth. Why, who can say But I’ve a chance of being pope one day ? St. P. N. Well, having worn the mitre and red hat, And triple crown, what follows after that ? Youth. Nay, there is nothing further, to be sure, Upon this earth, that wishing can procure : When I’ve enjoyed a dignity so high As long as God shall please, then--I must die. St. P. N, What? must you die! fond youth, and at the best But wish, and hope, and may be all the rest P Take my advice—whatever may betide, For that which must be, first of all provide, Then think of that which may be: and, indeed, When well prepared, who knows what may succeed ? But you may be, as you are pleased to hope, Priest, canon, bishop, cardinal, and pope. Byrem. 214 SELECT POETRY THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY. THE noon was shady, and soft airs Swept Ouse’s' silent tide, When, ’scaped from literary cares, I wandered by its side. My dog, now? lost in flags and reeds, Now, starting into sight, Pursued the swallow o’er the meads With scarce a slower flight. 1t was the time when Ouse displayed Its lilies newly blown ; Their beauties I intent surveyed, And one I wished my own. With cane extended far, I sought To steer it close to land ! But still the prize, though nearly caught Escaped my eager hand. Beau marked my unsuccessful pains With fixed, considerate face, And puzzling set his puppy brains To comprehend the case. But with a cherup clear and strong, Dispersing all his dream, I thence withdrew, and followed long The windings of the stream. 1 Ouse—a river in Buckinghamshire. 2 Now lost, &c.—the first now means at one time, the second, at another time. FOR CHILDREN. 215 My ramble ended, I returned ; Beau, trotting far before, The floating wreath again discerned, ' And plunging left the shore. T saw him with that lily cropt Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon he dropt The treasure at my. feet. Charmed with the sight—The world,” I cried, “ Shall hear of this thy deed : My dog shall mortify the pride Of man’s superior breed. * But chief myself I will enjoin, Awake at duty’s call, To show a love as prompt at thine To Him who gives me all.” Cowper. THE ARAB TO HIS FAVOURITE STEED.! My beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by, : With thy proudly arched and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye, ' These lines represent the grief of an Arab, who had been induced by poverty to sell his favourite horse, 216 SELECT POETRY Fret not to roam the desert now, with all thy winged speed, T may not mount on thee again—thou'rt sold. my Arab steed ! Fret not with that impatient hoof—snuff not the breezy wind— The farther that thou fliest now, so far am | behind ; The stranger hath thy bridle-rein—thy master hath his gold— Fleet-limbed and beautiful, farewell; thou’rt sold, my steed, thou’rt sold. Farewell! those free, untired limbs full many a mile must roam, To reach the chill and wintry sky which clouds the stranger's home ; Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bed prepare, Thy silky mane, I braided once, must be another's care ! The morning sun shall dawn again, but never more with thee Shall I gallop through the desert paths, where we were wont to be; Evening shall darken on the earth, and o’er the sandy plain Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me home again. Yes, thou must go! the wild, free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky, Thy master’s house—from all of these my exiled one must fly; FOR CHILDREN, 217 Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet, And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master’s hand to meet. Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye, glancing bright ;— Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light ; Aud when I raise my dreaming arm to check 0 cheer thy speed, Then must I, starting, wake to feel,—thou'rt sold, my Arab steed ! Ah! rudely, then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide, Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side: And the rich blood that’s in thee swells, in thy indignant pain, Till careless eyes, which rest on thee, may count each starting vein. Will they ill-use thee P If I thought—. but no, it cannot be~— Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed ; so gentle, yet so free: And yet,.if haply, when thou'rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn— Can the hand which casts thee from it now com- mand thee to return ? Return! alas! my Arab steed! what shall thy master do, ° When thou, who wast his all of joy, hast vanished from his view ? u 218 SELECT POETRY When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gathering tears, Thy bright form, for a moment, like the false mirage! appears ; Slow and unmounted shall I roam, with weary step alone, Where, with fleet step, and joyous bound, thou oft has borne me on; And sitting down by that green well, I'll pause and sadly think, “Tt was here he bowed his glossy neck when last I saw him drink!” When last I saw thee drink /—Away ! the fevered dream is o’er— I could not live a day, and know that we should meet no more ! They tempted me, my beautiful !—for hunger's power is strong— They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long. Who said that I had given thee up? who said that thou wast sold ? Tis false—'tis false, my Arab steed! I fling them back their gold ! Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains ; Away ! who overtakes us now shall claim thee for his pains ! Mrs, Norton. 1 Mirage—a deception of «he sight, by whiea objects 0s the earth appear raised into the air. FOR CHILDREN. 219 THE SILK-WORM. FROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE. Tux beams of April, ere it goes, A worm, scarce visible, disclose ; All winter long content to dwell The tenant of his native shell. The same prolific season gives The sustenance by which he lives, The mulberry-leaf, a simple store, . That serves him—till he needs no more ! For, his dimensions once complete, Thenceforth none ever sees him eat; Though, till his growing-time be past, Scarce ever is he seen to fast, That hour arrived, his work begins ; He spins and weaves, and weaves and spins; Till circle upon circle wound Careless around him and around, Conceals him with a veil, though slight, Impervious ' to the keenest sight. Thus self-enclosed, as in a cask,* At length he finishes his task : And, though a worm when he was lost, Or caterpillar at the most, 1 Impervious—that cannot be passed through or penetrated. 3 In allusion to the cocoon or web, in which the silk-worm envelopes himself. 220 SELECT POETRY When next we see him, wings he wears, And in papilio! pomp appears ; Becomes oviparous ;? supplies With future worms and future flies The next ensuing year !—and dies ! Well were it for the world, if all Who creep about this earthly ball— Though shorter-lived than most he be—~ Were useful in their kind as he. Cowper. THE DAISY. ON FINDING ONE IN BLOOM ON CHRISTMAS-DAY. THERE is a flower, a little flower, With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky, The prouder beauties of the field In gay but quick succession shine ; Race after race their honours yield, They flourish and decline. But this small flower, to Nature dear, While moons and stars their courses run, Wreathes the whole circle of the year, Companion of the sun. It smiles upon the lap of May To sultry August spreads its charms, Lights pale October on its way, And twines December’s arms. 1 Papilio—butterfly. ? Ovtpurous—bringing forth eget. FOR CHILDREN. 221 The purple heath, and golden broom, On moory mountains catch the gale, O’er lawns the lily sheds perfume, The violet in the vale; But this bold floweret climbs the hill, Hides in the forest, haunts the glen, Plays on the margin of the rill, Peeps round ‘the fox’s den. Within the garden’s cultured round, Tt shares the sweet carnation’s bed ; And blooms on consecrated ground, ‘In honour of the dead. The lambkin crops its crimson gem,! The wild bee murmurs on its breast, The blue fly bends its pensile? stem Light o’er the sky-lark’s nest. ‘Tis Flora’s® page :4—In every place, In every season, fresh and fair, Tt opens with perennial? grace, And blossoms everywhere. On waste and woodland, rock and plain, Its humble buds unheeded rise ; The rose has but a summer reign, The Daisy never dies, Montgomery. 1 Gem—the first bud of the flower. 2 Pensile—hanging, bending. 3 Flora—the Goddess of Flowers. ‘ Page—an attendant. 5 Perenniul—perpetual. u2 222 SELECT POETRY THE RETIRED CAT. A POET'’s cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks to which she might retire, And where, secure as mouse in chink, She might repose, or sit and think. Sometimes ascending, with an air, An apple-tree, or lofty pear, Lodged with convenience in the fork, She watched the gardener at his work ; Sometimes her ease and solace sought In an old empty watering-pot ; There, wanting nothing but a fan, To seem some nymph in her sedan, In ermine dressed, of finest sort, And ready to be borne to court. But love of change it seems has place Not only in our wiser race, Cats also feel, as well as we. That passion’s force, and so did she. Her climbing, she began to find, Exposed her too much to the wind, And the old watering-pot of tin Was cold and comfortless within: She therefore wished, instead of those, Some place of more secure repose, Where neither cold might come, nor air Too rudely wanton with her hair, And sought it in the likeliest mode Within her master’s snug abode. FOR CHILDREN. 223 A drawer, it chanced, at bottom lined With linen of the softest kind— A drawer was hanging o’er the rest, Half open, in the topmost chest, Of depth enough, and none to spare, Inviting her to slumber there. Puss, with delight beyond expression, Surveyed the scene and took possession ; Then resting at her ease, ere long, And lulled by her own hum-drum song, She left the cares of life behind, And slept as she would sleep her last, When in came, housewifely inclined, The chambermaid, and shut it fast; By no ill-natured thought impelled, But quite unconscious whom it held. Awakened by the shock, cried Puss, «Was ever cat attended thus! The open drawer was left, I see, Merely to prove a nest for me ; For soon as I was well composed, Then came the maid, and it was closed. How smooth these kerchiefs and how sweet ! Oh! what a delicate retreat. I will resign myself to rest, Till the sun, sinking in the west, Shall call to supper, when, no doubt, Susan will come and let me out.” The evening came, the sun descended, And Puss remained still unattended. The night rolled tardily away, (With her, indeed, ‘twas never day,) SELECT POETRY The sprightly moon her course renewed, The evening gray again ensued ; And Puss came into mind no more Than if entombed the day before. With hunger pinched, and pinched for room She now presaged approaching doom, Nor slept a single wink or purred, Feeling the risk she had incurred. That night, by chance, the poet watching, Heard an inexpressible scratching ; His noble heart went pit-a-pat, And to himself he said, “‘ What's that ?” He drew the curtain at his side, And forth he peeped, but nothing spied ; Yet, by his ear directed, guessed Something imprisoned in the chest, And doubtful what, with prudent care, Resolved it should continue there. At length a voice which well he knew, A long and melancholy mew, Saluting his poetic ears, Consoled him and dispelled his fears , He left his bed, he trod the floor, And ‘gan! in haste the drawers explore, The lowest first, and without stop The rest in order, to the top ; For ‘tis a truth well known to most, That whatsoever thing is lost, We seek it ere it come to light In every corner but the right. 1 Gan—began. FOR CHILDREN. 225 Forth skipped the cat, not now replete, As erst, with airy self-conceit, Nor in her own fond apprehension A theme for all the world’s attention : But sober, modest, cured of all Her notions so fantastical ; And wishing for her place of rest Anything rather than a chest. Then stepped the poet into bed With this reflection in his head :— MORAL. Beware of too sublime a sense Of your own worth and consequence ! The man who dreams himself so great, . And his importance of such weight, That all around in all that’s done, Must move and act for him alone, Will learn in school of tribulation, The folly of his expectation. Cowper. REASONS FOR MIRTH. THE sun is careering in glory and might, Mid the deep blue sky and the clouds so bright; The billow is tossing its foam on high, And the summer breezes go lightly by ; The air and the water dance, glitter, and play— And why should not I bu as merry as they ? The linnet is singing the wild wood through, The fawn’s bounding footsteps skim over the dew 226 SELECT POETRY The butterfly flits round the blossoming tree, And the cowslip and blue-bell are bent by the hee: All the creatures that dwell in the forest are gay, And why should not I be as merry as they ? Miss Mitford. NAPOLEON AND THE YOUNG ENGLISH SAILOR. 1 LOVE contemplating—apart From all his homicidal' glory— The traits that soften to our heart Napoleon’s story. ’Twas when his banners at Boulogne Armed in our island every freeman, His navy chanced to capture one Poor British seaman. They suffered him, I know not how, Unprisoned on the shore to roam ; And aye was bent his youthful brow On England’s home. His eye, methinks, pursued the flight Of birds to Britain, half-way over, With envy—they could reach the white, Dear cliffs of Dover. A stormy midnight watch, he thought, Than this sojourn would have been dearer, If but the storm his vessel brought To England nearer 1 Homicidal—mankilling, murderous. FOR CHILDREN. 227 At last, when care had banished sleep, He saw one morning, dreaming, doating, An empty hogshead from the deep Come shoreward floating. He hid it in a cave, and wrought The live-long day, laborious, lurking, Until he launched a tiny boat, By mighty working. Oh dear me! ‘twas a thing beyond Description !—Such a wretched wherry, Perhaps, ne'er ventured on a pond, Or crossed a ferry. For ploughing in the salt-sea field, It would have made the boldest shudder ; Untarred, uncompassed, and unkeeled,— No sail—no rudder. From neighbouring woods he interlaced His sorry skiff with wattled willows ; And thus equipped, he would have passed The foaming billows. A French guard caught him on the beach, His little Argo! sorely jeering, Till tidings of him chanced to reach Napoleon’s hearing. With folded afms Napoleon stood, Serene alike in peace and danger, And, in his wonted attitude, Addressed the stranger. 1 Argo—the name of an ancient ship; a ship in general. 228 -SELECT POETRY “ Rash youth, that wouldst yon Channel pass . On twigs and staves so rudely fashioned, Thy heart with some sweet English lass Must be impassioned.” “ T have no sweetheart,” said the lad; “ But, absent years from one another, Great was the longing that I had To see my mother.” * And so thou shalt,” Napoleon said, “You've both my favour justly won, A noble mother must have bred So brave a son.” He gave the tar a piece of gold, And, with a flag of truce, commanded He should be shipped to England Old, And safely landed. Our sailor oft could scantly shift To find a dinner, plain and hearty, But never changed the coin and gift Of Buonaparte. Campbell. SONG OF THE STRAWBERRY GIRL. Iv is summer! it is summer! how beautiful it looks ; There is sunshine on the old grey hills, and sun- shine on the brooks ; FOR CHILDREN. 229 _A singing-bird on every bough, soft perfumes on the air, A happy smile on each young lip, and gladness everywhere ! Oh! is it not a pleasant thing to wander through the woods, To look upon the painted flowers, and watch the opening buds; Or seated in the deep cool shade, at some tall ash- tree’s root, To fill my little basket with the sweet and- scented fruit ? They tell me that my father’s poor—that is no grief to me, When such a blue and brilliant sky my upturned eye can see ; They tell me, too, that richer girls can sport with toy and gem ; It may be so—and yet, methinks, I do not envy them. When forth I go upon my way, a thousand toys are mine, The clusters of dark violets, the wreaths of the wild vine ; My jewels are the primrose pale, the bind-weed, and the rose; And show me any courtiy gem more beautiful than those. x 230 ° SELECT POETRY And then the fruit! the glowing fruit, how sweet the scent it breathes ! I love to see its crimson cheek rest on the bright green leaves ! Summer's own gift of luxury, in which the poor may share, The wild-wood fruit my eager eye is seeking every- where. Oh! summer is a pleasant time, with all its sounds and sights ; Its dewy mornings, balmy eves, and tranquil calm delights ; I sigh when first I see the leaves fall yellow on the lain, And ‘all the winter long I sing— Sweet summer, come again !” THE GLOW-WORM. YROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE. BenxaTH the hedge, or near the stream, A worm is known to stray, That shows by night a lucid beam, Which disappears by day. Disputes have been, and still prevail, From whence its rays proceed ; Some give that honour to his tail, And others to his head. But this is sure,—the hand of Night, That kindles up the skies, Gives him a modicum of light, Proportioned to his size. FOR CHII-DREN. 231 Perhaps indulgent nature meant, By such a lamp bestowed, To bid the traveller, as he went, Be careful where he trod ; Nor crush a worm whose useful light Might serve, however small, To show a stumbling-stone by night, And save him from a fall. Whate’er she meant, this truth divino, Is legible and plain, *Tis power Almighty bids him shine, Nor bids him shine in vain. Cowper. THE MOTHER AND BABE IN THE SNOW.! THE cold winds swept the mountain height, And pathless was the dreary wild, And ‘mid the cheerless hours of night, A mother wandered with her child ; As through the drifting snow she pressed, The babe was sleeping on her breast. And colder still the winds did blow, And darker hours of night came on, And deeper grew the drifts of snow— Her limbs were chilled, her strength was gone, “Oh God!” she cried, in accents wild, “If J must perish—save my child!” 1 The circumstances alluded to in these lines (which are taken from an American newspaper) occurred a few ycars ago in Vermont, United States, 232 SELECT POETRY She stripped her mantle from her breast, And bared her bosom to the storm, And round the child she wrapped the vest, And smiled to think her babe was warm ;— One kiss she gave, one tear she shed, ‘Then sunk upon the snowy bed. At dawn, a traveller, passing by, Saw her beneath the fleecy veil ; The frost of death was in her eye, Her cheek was cold, and hard, and pale ; He moved the robe from off the child— The babe looked up and sweetly smiled. Thus answered was the mother’s prayer, Thus saved, the object of her care. THE CHAFFINCH'S NEST AT SEA, Iw Scotland’s realm, forlorn and bare, Thy history chanced of late— The history of a wedded pair, A chaffinch and his mate. The spring drew near, each felt a breast With genial instinct filled ; They paired, and would have built a nest, But found not where to build. The heaths uncovered, and the moors, Except with snow and sleet, Sea-beaten rocks and naked shores, Could yield them no retreat. FOR CHILDREN. 233 Long time a breeding-place they sought, Till both grew vexed and tired ; At length a ship arriving brought The good so long desired. A ship ! could such a restless thing Afford them place of rest ? Or was the merchant charged to bring The homeless birds a nest ? Hush !—silent readers profit most-— This racer of the sea Proved kinder to them than the coast,— It served them with a tree. But such a tree! ‘twas shaven deal, The tree they call a mast; And had a hollow with a wheel,! Through which the tackle passed. Within that cavity, aloft, Their roofless home they fixed ; Formed with materials neat and soft, Bents,? wool, and feathers mixed. Four ivory eggs soon pave its floor, With russet specks bedight :3 The vessel weighs,‘ forsakes the shore, And lessens to the sight. The mother-bird is gone to sea, As she has changed her kind ; 1 Hollow with a wheel—a block or pulley. * Bents—the stalks of a species of grass, 3 Bedight—decked, ornamented. 4 Weighs—weighs anchor—sets sail. x2 234 SELECT POETRY But goes the male? Far wiser he Is doubtless left behind. No :—soon as from ashore he saw The winged mansion move, He flew to reach it, by a law Of never-failing love; Then perching at his consort’s side, Was briskly borne along; The billows and the blasts defied, And cheered her with a song. The seaman, with sincere delight, His feathered shipmate eyes; Scarce less exulting in the sight Than when he tows a prize. For seamen much believe in signs, And, from a chance so new, Each some approaching good divines 3! And may his hopes be true ! Hail, birds! who, rather than resign Your matrimonial plan, Were not afraid to plough the brine, In company with man. Be it your fortune, year by year, The same resource to prove ; And may ye, sometimes landing here, Instruct us how to love! Cowper. 1 Divines—guesses, foretells. FOR CHILDREN. 235 THE BLOSSOM. Sarp Anna to Jane, as they loitered one day, In the year’s early spring, by the garden-hedge side ;— « Those bright, clustering flowers on yonder tall tree Are the fairest and sweetest I ever espied. “ But I know that to-night, ere the sun shall have set, Their form will be changed and their colours will fly ; I almost could weep that such beauty should pass— ‘Tis surely a pity that blossoms must die. “ But at least I'll enjoy them as long as I can, For, go when they will, 1 shall leave them with SOITOW 5 They shall bloom on my bosom at least for to-day, Since, whether or no, I must lose them to- morrow,” The blossom was gathered, and smiled in her breast, For many an hour, full sweetly, no doubt— It died, as it would were it left in the tree— But she who had gathered it had not the fruit. And ‘tis so that we sigh o’er our life’s fleeting joys, Forgetting the purpose for which they were given ; Forgetting, though sweet be the blossoms on earth, The fruit they should bear us is gathered in heaven. Miss Fry. 236 SELECT POETRY THE MAZE. FROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE. From right to left, and to and fro, Caught in a labyrinth, you go, And turn, and turn, and turn again, To solve the mystery, but in vain ;— Stand still and breathe, and take from me A clue that soon shall set you free ! Not Ariadne, if you met her, Herself could serve you with a better. You entered easily—find where— And ake with ease your exit there. Cowper. THE BETTER LAND. «I wear thee speak of the better land ; Thou call’st its children a happy band ; Mother! oh where is that radiant shore P— Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ? Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs P” “ Not there, not there, my child.” Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or ‘midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds, on their starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ?” ‘* Not there, not there, my child!” FOR CHILDREN. 237 “Js it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o’er sands of gold P— Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pear] gleams forth from the coral strand ?— Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ?” «Not there, not there, my child!" “ Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy! Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair,— Sorrow and death may not enter there ; Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, It is there, it is there, my child!” Mrs. Hemans. TIME. Time that is past, thou never canst recall ; Of time to come, thou art not sure at all; Time present, only, is within thy power, And therefore Now improve the present hour. Byrom. THE ENTAIL;: OR, THE LORDLY BUTTERFLY. One summer’s morn, a butterfly Of high and noble ancestry, 1 Entail—An estate so settled, that it cannot be sold, or in any way disposed of at pleasure by a subsequent possessor, but must descend in a direct line from heir to heir. 238 SELECT POETRY Whose lineage dated from the mud At least of old Deucalion’s flood,! Long hovering round a spacious lawn, By various gusts of odours drawn, At last established his repose: On the rich bosom of a rose. The palace pleased the lordly guest ; What insect owned a prouder nest ? The dewy leaves luxuriant shed Their balmy odours o’er his head, And with their silken tapestry fold His limbs enthroned on central gold. He thinks the thorns embattled? round To guard his castle’s lovely mound, And all the bush’s wide domain Subservient to his fancied reign. Such ample blessings swell the fly ; Yet in his mind’s capacious eye He scanned the change of mortal things, The common fate of fiies and kings ; With grief he saw how land and honours Are apt to slide to various owners ; Where Mowbrays* dwelt, here grocers dwell, And cits4 now buy what barons sell. “Great Pho:bus!° patriarch of my line, Avert such shame from sons of thine ; 1 Deucalion’s flood took place in the year 1548 B.C. 2 Embattled—indented like a battlement. 3 Mowbray—the name of a noble English family, here put generally for any noble family. * Cits—citizens. 5 Phebus—in ancient mythology, the sun, or the sun-ged, Apollo. FOR CHILDREN. 239 To them confirm these roofs,” he said, And then he swore an oath so dread, The stoutest wasp that wears a sword Had trembled to have heard the word 5 “If law can rivet down entails, These mansions ne'er shall pass to snails, I swear”—and then he smote his ermine—~ « These towers were never built for vermin.” A caterpillar grovelled near— A subtle, slow, conveyancer,! Who, summoned, waddles with his quill To draw the haughty insect’s will ; None but his heirs must own the spot, No other creatures share the lot— Each leaf he binds, each bud he ties To eggs of eggs of butterflies :— When lo! how fortune loves to teaze Those who would dictate her decrees ; A playful boy was passing by, The wanton child beheld the fly, And eager ran to seize the piey ; But, too impetuous in his play, Crushed the proud tenant of an hour, And swept away the mansion-flower. Horace Walpole. THE SPARROWS AT COLLEGE. FROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE. Nong ever shared the social feast, Or as an inmate or a guest, * Conveyancer=-a lawyer who draws up writings by which property in land is transferred from one person to another. 240 SELECT POETRY Beneath the celebrated dome, Where once Sir Jsaac had his home, Who saw not (and with some delight Perhaps reviewed the novel sight) How numerous, at the tables there, The sparrows beg their daily fare. For there, in every nook and cell, Where such a family may dwell, Sure as the vernal season comes Their nest they weave in hope of crumbs, Which, kindly given, may serve with food Convenient their unfeathered brood 5 And oft, as with its summons clear The warning bell salutes their ear, Sagacious listeners to the sound, They flock from all the fields around, To reach the hospitable hall, None more attentive to the call. Arrived, the pensionary? band, Hopping and chirping close at hand, Solicit what they soon receive, The sprinkled, plenteous donative.® Thus is a multitude, though large, Supported at a trivial charge ; A single doit4 would overpay The expenditure of every day, And who can grudge so small a grace To suppliants, natives of the place P Cowper 1 Sir Isaac Newton studied at Trinity College, Cambridge. * Pensionary—depending on a pension,or stated allowance. 3 Donative—gift, * Doit—a small coin, no longer in use. FOR CHILDREN 241 THE MORNING MIST. Loox, William, how the morning mists Have covered all the scene; Nor house, nor hill, canst thou behold, Grey wood, or meadow green The distant spire across the vale These floating vapours shroud ; Scarce are the neighbouring poplars seen, Pale shadowed in the cloud. But seest thou, William, where the mists Sweep o’er the southern sky, The dim effulgence of the sun That lights them as they fly ? Soon shall that glorious orb of day In all his strength arise, And roll along his azure way, Through clear and cloudless skies, Then shall we see across the vale The village spire so white, And the grey wood and meadows green Shall live again in light. So, William, from the moral world The clouds shall pass away, The light that struggles through them now Shall beam eternal day. Southey. 242 SELECT PORTRY THE WOODMAN AND HIS boOG. Forta goes the woodman, leaving unconcerned The cheerful haunts of man, to wield the axe, And drive the wedge in yonder forest drear, From morn to eve his solitary task. Shaggy, and lean, and shrewd, with pointed ears, And tail cropped short, half lurcher and half cur, His dog attends him. Close behind his heel Now creeps he slow; and now, with many a frisk Wide scampering, snatches up the drifted snow With ivory teeth, or ploughs it with his snout, Then shakes his powdered coat and barks for joy Heedless of all his pranks, the sturdy churl Moves right towards his work, nor stops for aught But now and then, with pressure of his thumb, To adjust the fragrant charge! of a short tube That fumes beneath his nose; the trailing cloud Streams far behind him, scenting all the air. Couper. THE SQUIRREL. THE squirrel, flippant, pert, and full of play, Drawn from his refuge in some lonely elm That age or injury hath hollowed deep, Where, in his bed of wool and matted leaves, He has outslept the winter, ventures forth To frisk awhile, and bask in the warm sun: He sees me, and at once, swift as a bird, ' Charge~load, contents. The charge in this case was the tobacco that filled the pipe. FOR CHILDREN. 943 Ascends the neighbouring beech? there whisks his brush, And perks' his ears, and stamps and cries aloud, With all the prettiness of feigned alarm, And anger insignificantly fierce. Cowper. CASABIANCA, THE HEROIC BOY.' Tue boy stood on the burning deck, . Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle’s wreck Shone round him o’er the dead ; Yet beautiful and bright he stood As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud though child-like 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. He called aloud—* Say, father, say, If yet my task is done !” He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. } Perks—raises, tosses up. * Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the admiral of the Orient, a French ship of war, remained at his post in the battle of the Nile, after the ship had taken fire, and ail the guns bad been abandoned; and perished in the explosion of the vessel when the flames had reached the powder, 244 SELECT POETRY “ Speak, fathét !” 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 ! He shouted yet 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 splendour wild, They caught the flag on high, And streamed above the gallant child, Like banners in the sky. Then 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 faithful heart. Mrs. Hemans. 4} Booming—rushing with great noise and tumult, 2 Pennon—a stnall flag or banner. FOR CHILDREN. 245 THE PLANE-TREE an THE VINE. . FROM THE LATIN. SEE yonder blushing vine-tree grow, And clasp a dry and withered plane; And round its youthful tendrils throw A shelter from the storm and rain. That hapless trunk, in former time, Gave covert from the noon-tide blaze, And taught the infant shoot to climb, Which now the pious debt repays. Thus for a mother’s fostering care, Mayst thou a tender love return ; Shield her when life’s rude tempests Jour, And wreathe with flowers her sacred urn. THE LAND OF CONTRADICTIONS, THErg is a land in distant seas Full of all contrarieties. There beasts have mallards” bill and legs, Have spurs like cocks, like hens lay eggs. There parrots walk upon the ground, And grass upon the trees is found ; On other trees—another wonder— Leaves without upper side or under. There pears yon’'ll scarce with hatchet cut; Stones are outside the cherries put; Swans are not white but black as soot ; There neither leaf, nor root, nor fruit, Will any Christian palate suit; ¥2 246 SELECT POETRY Unless in desperaffPaeed you'll fill ye With root of fern and stalk of lily. There missiles to far distance sent Come whizzing back from whence they went. There a voracious ewe-sheep crams Her paunch with flesh of tender lambs ; While, ’stead of bread, and beef, and broth, Men feast on many a roasted moth. There quadrupeds go on two feet, And yet few quadrupeds so fleet. There birds, although they cannot fly, In swiftness with the greyhound vie. With equal wonder you may see The foxes fly from tree to tree; And what they value most, so wary, These foxes in their pockets carry. The sun when you to face him turn ye, From right to left performs his journey. The north winds scorch, but when the breeze is Full from the south, why then it freezes. Now of what place can such strange tales Be told with truth but New South Wales ? THE DAME SCHOOLMISTRESS. Iw yonder cot, along whose mouldering wails, In many a fold, the mantling woodbine falls, The village matron kept her little school— Gentle of heart, yet knowing well to rule ; Staid was the dame, and modest was her mien ; Her garb was coarse, yet whole, and nicely clean: FOR CHILDREN. 247 Her neatly-bordered cap, as 1a fek:, Beneath her chin was pinned, with decent care, And pendent ruffies of the whitest lawn, Of ancient make, her elbows did adorn. Faint with old age, and dim were grown her eyes, A pair of spectacles their want supplies ; These dets she guard secure in leathern case From thoughtless wights in some unweeted! place, Here first I entered, though with toil and pain, The lowly vestibule* of learning’s fane ;3 Entered with pain, yet soon I found the way, Though sometimes toilsome, many a sweet display. Much did I grieve, on that ill-fated morn, When I was first to school reluctant borne ; Severe I thought the dame, though oft she tried To soothe my swelling spirits when I sighed ; And oft, when harshly she reproved, I wept, To my lone corner, broken-hearted, crept, And thought of tender home, where anger never kept. But soon, enured to alphabetic toils,— Alert I met the dame with jocund smiles ; First at the form, my task for ever true, A little favourite rapidly I grew: And oft she stroked my head with fond delight, Held me a pattern to the dunce’s sight ;— And as she gave my diligence its praise, Talked of the honours of my future days. Kirke White. 1 Unweeted—unknown. * Vestibule—porch, entrance. 3 Fane—temple. 248 SELECT POETRY THE KITTEN AND THE FALLING LEAVES. Ske the kitten on the wall Sporting with the leaves thatfall— Withered leaves—one—two—and three— From the lofty elder-tree ! Through the calm and frosty air Of this morning, bright and fair, Eddying round and round they sink Softly, lowly :—one might think, From the motions that aremade, Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or fairy hither tending— 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 up-turned 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: \ Parachute—a machine, in form resembling a large um- Urella, by which persons may descend froin a great height in the air; generally used in connexion with an air-ballon. FOR CHILDREN. 249 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 shout and stare, What would little Tabby care For the plaudits of the crowd ? Far too happy to be proud ; Over-wealthy in the treasure OF her own exceeding pleasure ! Wordsworth THE SANDAL-TREE. Tue best revenge is love :—disarm Anger with smiles; heal wounds with balm ; Give water to thy thirsting foe ; The sandal-tree, as if to prove How sweet to conquer hate by love, Perfumes the axe that lays it low. S.C. Wilkes. THE CHILD AND HIND. Come, maids and matrons, to caress Wiesbaden’s? gentle hind ; 1 Indian eonjuror—The Indian conjurors perform aston- ishing feats with balls, keeping several in motion above, and even around them, at the same time. * Wiesbuden—the capital of the Duchy of Nassau, in Germany, near which city occurred the incident narrated in - the poem, 250 SELECT POETRY And, smiling, deck its glossy neck With forest flowers entwined. Twas after church—on Ascension day— When organs ceased to sound, Wiesbaden’s people crowded gay The deer-park’s pleasant ground. Here came a twelve years’ married pair— And with them wandered free Seven sons and daughters, blooming fair, A gladsome sight to see ! Their Wilhelm, little innocent, The youngest of the seven, Was beautiful as painters paint The cherubim of heaven. By turns he gave his hand, so dear, - To parent, sister, brother ; And each, that he was safe and near, Confided in the other. But Wilhelm loved the field-flowers bright, With love beyond all measure ; And culled them with as keen delight As misers gather treasure. Unnoticed, he contrived to glide Adown a greenwood alley, By lilies lured—that grew beside A streamlet in the valley ; 1 And each, &c,—As they wandered along, a scattered band, each one thought that some other of the party was taking care of him. FOR CHILDREN. 251 And there, where under beech and birch The rivulet meandered, He strayed, till neither shout nor search, Could track where he had wandered. Still louder, with increasing dread, They called his darling name : But ’twas like speaking to the dead— An echo only came. Hours passed till evening’s beetle roams And blackbird’s songs begin ; Then all went back to happy homes, Save Wilhelm’s kith and kin.! The night came on—all others slept Their cares away till morn ; But sleepless, all night watched and wept That family forlorn. Betimes the town-crier had been sent With loud bell, up and down; And told the afflicting accident Throughout Wiesbaden’s town. The news reached Nassau’s Duke—ere earth Was gladdened by the lark, He sent a hundred soldiers forth To ransack all his park, But though they roused up beast and bird From many a nest and den, No signal of success was heard From all the hundred men. ’ Kith and kin—friends and relations, 252 SELECT POETRY A second morning’s light expands, Unfound the infant fair; And Wilhelm’s household wring their hands, Abandoned to despair. But, haply, a poor artisan Searched ceaselessly, till he Found safe asleep the little one, Beneath a beechen tree. His hand still grasped a bunch of flowers ; And—true, though wondrous—near, To sentry his reposing hours, There stood a female deer, Who dipped her horns at all that passed The spot where Wilhelm lay; Till force was had to hold her fast, And bear the boy away. Hail! sacred love of childhood—hail ! How sweet it is to trace Thine instinct in Creation’s scale, Even ‘neath the human race. To this poor wanderer of the wild, Speech, reason were unknown— And yet she watched a sleeping child, As if it were her own ! Campbell. THE BIRDS OF PASSAGE. Brrps, joyous birds of the wandering wing! Whence is it ye come with the flowers of spring? FOR CHILDREN. 253 —© We come from the shores of the green old Nile, From the land where the roses of Sharon smile, From the palms that wave through the Indian sky, From the myrrh-trees of glowing Araby, “We have swept o’er cities in song renowned, Silent they lie with their desert round ! We have crossed proud rivers whose tide hath rolled All dark with the warrior-blood of old ; And each worn wing hath regained its home Under peasant’s roof of monarch’s dome.” And what have ye found in the monarch’s dome, Since last ye traversed the blue sea’s foam ? — “We have found a change ;—we have found a all, And a gloom o’ershadowing the banquet hall ; And a mark on the floor as of life-drops spilt ;— Nought looks the same save the nest we built.” Oh! joyous birds, it hath ever been so; Through the halls of kings doth the tempest go, But the huts of hamlets lie still and deep, And the hills o’er their quiet a vigil keep :— Say, what have ye found in the peasant’s cot Since last ye parted from that sweet spot ? “A change we have fourd there, and many a ef» Faces and footsteps, and all things strange ; Gone are the heads of the silvery hair, And the young that were, have a brow of care; And the place is hushed where the children played Nought leoks the same save the nest we made.” Zz 254 SELECT POETRY Sad is your tale of the beautiful earth, Birds that o’ersweep it in power and mirth; Yet through the wastes of the trackless air Ye have a guide, and shall we despair ? Ye over desert and deep have passed, So may we reach our bright home at last. Mrs, Hemans. THE MOTHER AND HER CHILD. As to her lips the mother lifts her boy, What answering looks of sympathy and joy !— He walks, he speaks. In many a broken word, His wants, his wishes, and his griefs, are heard ; And ever, ever to her lap he flies, When rosy sleep comes on with sweet surprise. Locked in her arms, his arms across her flung, (That name most dear for ever on his tongue,) As with soft accents round her neck he clings, And, cheek to cheek, her lulling song she sings, How blest to feel the beatings of his heart, Breathe his sweet breath, and kiss for kiss impart; Watch o’er his slumbers like the brooding dove, And, if she can, exhaust a mother’s love ! But soon a nobler task demands her care ; Apart she joins his little hands in prayer, Telling of Him who sees in secret there !— And now the volume on her knee has caught His wandering eye—now many a written thought Never to die, with many a lisping sweet, His moving, murmuring lips endeavour to repeat. FOR CHILDREN. 255 Released, he chases the bright butterfly, Oh he would follow— follow through the sky ! Climbs the gaunt mastiff slumbering in his chain, And chides and buffets, clinging by the mane ; Then runs, and, kneeling by the fountain side, Sends his brave ship in triumph down the tide,— A dangerous voyage! or if now he can, If now he wears the habit of a man, Flings off the coat, so long his pride and pleasure, And, like a miser digging. for his treasure, His tiny spade in his own garden plies, And in green letters sees his name arise ! Where’er he goes, for ever in her sight, She looks, and looks, and still with new delight ! Rogers. SELF-EXAMINATION. ¥ROM THE GREEK OF PYTHAGORAS, Let not soft slumbers close my eyes, Before I have recollected thrice The train of actions through the day: Where have my feet marked out their way ? What have I learnt where’er I've been, From all I’ve heard—from all I’ve seen ? What know I more, that’s worth the knowing ? What have I done, that's worth the doing ? What have [ sought, that I should shun ? What duties have I left undone; Or into what new follies run ? These self-inquiries are the road That lead to virtue and to God. -256 - SELECT POETRY THE BREAD-FRUIT TREE. ‘TueRrx is an island where no peasants toil, To drive the ploughshare in the fertile soil ! No seed is sown, no corn-fields deck the plain, No ponderous millstqnes bruise the ripened grain; Their mellow harvest ripens overhead, Their groves supply them with abundant bread; On stately trees, the sun and genial air, ' Without man’s aid, unceasing food prepare. Still further benefits these trees bestow ; The stem is felled, behold! the light canoe ; From the tough fibres of the bark, proceeds Such simple clothing as the climate needs ; Delightful clime! where flowers perpetual grow, Unchecked by winter’s frost, or showers of snow. THE PIOUS WISH. Ou that mine eye might closed be To what becomes me not to see ! That deafness might possess mine ear To what concerns me not to hear! That truth my tongue might closely tie From ever speaking foolishly’! That no vain thought might ever rest, Or be conceived within my breast ! That by each word, each deed, each thought, Glory may to my God be brought. ; Eltwood. FOR CHILDREN. 257 THE NAUTILUS. Wuere southern suns and winds prevail, And undulate the summer seas,! The Nautilus expands his sail, And scuds before the freshening breeze. Oft is a little squadron seen Of mimic ships, all rigged complete ; Fancy might think the fairy-queen Was sailing with her elfin fleet. ' With how much beauty is designed Each channeled bark of purest white ! ' With orient pearl each cabin? lined, Varying with every change of light ; While with his little slender oars, His silken sail and tapering mast, The dauntless mariner explores The dangers of the watery waste. Prepared, should tempests rend the sky, From harm his fragile bark to keep, He furls? his sail, his oars lays by, And seeks his safety in the deep. Then safe on ocean’s shelly bed, He hears the storm above him roar, "Mid groves of coral glowing red, And rocks o’erhung with madrepore. ’ The Nautilus is found in the Mediterranean Sea. ® Cabin—in allusion to the chambers or compartments of the shell. 3 Furls—takes ir. z2 258 SELECT POETRY So let us catch life’s favouring gale, But if fate’s adverse winds be rude, Take calmly in the adventurous sail, And find repose in solitude. Charlotte Smith. THE LESSONS TAUGHT BY NATURE. *Twas thus to man the voice of nature spake ;— “Go, from the creatures thy instruction take : Learn from the birds what food the thickets yield; Learn from the beasts the physic of the field ; The arts of building from the bee receive ; Learn of the mole to plough, the worm to weave; Learn of the little nautilus to sail, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale.” Popes HUMILITY. Tux bird that soars on highest wing, Builds on the ground her lowly nest ; And she that doth most sweetly sing, Sings in the shade when all things rest: In lark and nightingale we see What honour hath humility. FOR CHILDREN. 959 THE INCHCAPE ROCK;! OR, THE ROVER’S FATE. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, The ship was as still as she could be ; Her sails from heaven received no motion, Her keel as steady in the ocean. Without either sign or sound of their shock, The waves floated over the Inchcape Rock ; So little they rose, so little they fell, They did not move the Inchcape bell. The good old abbot of Aberbrothock Had floated that bell on the Inchcape Rock ; On the waves of the storm it floated and swung, And louder and louder its warning rung. When the rock was hid by the surge’s swell, The mariners heard the warning bell; And then they knew the perilous rock, And blessed the priest of Aberbrothock. The sun in heaven was shining gay, All things were joyful on that day ; . The sea-birds screamed, as they wheeled around, And there was pleasure in the sound. The float of the Inchcape bell was seen, A darker speck on the ocean green ; Sir Ralph the rover* walked the deck, And he fixed his eye on the darker speck. 1 The Inchcape Rock is a dangerous sunken rock oft the coast of Forfarshire, Scotland, on which the Bell-rock Light-house now stands. = Rover—wanderer, pirate, 260 SELECT POETRY He felt the cheering power of spring; It made him whistle, it made him sing ; His heart was mirthful to excess— But the rover’s mirth was wickedness, His eye was on the bell and float; Quoth he, “ My men, put out the boat, And row me to the Inchcape Rock, And I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothock.” The boat is lowered, the boatmen row, And to the Inchcape Rock they go ; Sir Ralph bent over from the boat, And cut the warning-bell from the float! Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound « The bubbles arose and burst around ; Quoth Sir Ralph, “ The next who comes to the rock, Will not bless the priest of Aberbrothock.” Sir Ralph the rover sailed away ; He scoured the seas for many a day ; And now, grown rich with plundered store, He steers his course for Scotland’s shore. So thick a haze o’erspread the sky, They could not see the sun on high ; The wind had blown a gale all day, At evening it had died away. On deck the rover takes his stand ; So dark it is, they see no land ; Quoth Sir Ralph, “ It will be lighter soon, For there is the dawn of the rising moon.’ FOR CHILDREN. 261 “* Canst hear,” said one, “ the breakers roar ? Yonder, methinks, should be the shore ; Now, where we are, I cannot tell, But I wish we could hear the Inchcape bell.” They hear no sound, the swell is strong, Though the wind has fallen, they drift along, Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock— “ Alas! it is the Inchcape Rock!” Sir Ralph the rover tore his hair, He beat himself in wild despair ; But the waves rush in on every side, And the-vessel sinks beneath the tide. Southey. THE DESTROYER. 1 saw the Memphian! pyramid In awful grandeur rise, Which, like a mighty pillar, seemed To prop the lofty skies. . An old man, with a snow white beard, Across the desert came, With a long grev robe thrown loosely o'er His breast and withered frame. He stood beside the pyramid, And laid his hand thereon, When, lo! the pile fell crumbling down, Till every stone was gone. ' Memphian—belonging to Memphis, a ce'ebrated city of ancient Egypt, situated on the western bank of the Nile. SELECT POETRY There was a city vast and great, The world’s imperial queen, Whose lofty towers and palaces On every side were seen ; The hum of busy multitudes, The shout of armed bands, The song of triumph, and the clash Of shields and glittering brands; With every sound of revelry, That from the banquet flows, From out that city’s crowded streets, In mingled discord, rose. T looked, and, lo! that same old man, With a visage pale and grim, Passed through those streets, observing none, And none observing him ; Yet as he paced those crowded streets, Quick hurrying to and fro, All sounds of revelry were changed To the bitter wails of woe. Still on he went without a stop, Till every sound had fled ; And nought within those wall was heard But the echo of his tread. Still on he went, still on he went, Till palace, tower, and wall, Sank down in one unseemly mass, And ruin covered all. FOR CHILDREN. » 263 Who art thou, stern destroyer ? say— “1’m known in every clime— Man and his works all pess away Beneath the hand of Time!” Hudson. GRATITUDE TO GOD. How cheerful along the gay mead, The daisy and cowslip appear ! The flocks, as they carelessly feed, Rejoice in the spring of the year, The myrtles that deck the gay bowers, The herbage that springs from the sod, Trees, plants, cooling fruits, and sweet flowers All rise to the praise of my God ! Shall man, the great master of all, The only insensible prove ? Forbid it, fair gratitude’s call, Forbid it, devotion and love ! The Lord who such wonders could raise, And still can destroy with a nod, My lips shall incessantly praise, My soul shall rejoice in my God. THE SEA. BeavtTirut, sublime, and glorious; Mild, majestic, foaming, free~~ Qver time itself victorious, Image of eternity ? 264 SELECT POETRY Sun, and moon, and stars shine o’er thee, See thy surface ebb and flow; Yet attempt not to explore thee In thy soundless! depths below. Whether morning’s splendours steep thee With the rainbow’s glowing grace, Tempests rouse, or navies sweep thee, ’Tis but for a moment’s space. Earth—her valleys and her mountains, Mortal man’s behests obey ; The unfathomable fountains Scoff his search, and scorn his sway. Such art thou—stupendous ocean ! But, if overwhelmed by thee, Can we think, without emotion, What must thy Creator be ? Bernard Barton. BIRDS. Say, who the various nations can declare That plough with busy wing the peopled air ? These cleave the crumbling bark for insect food ; Those dip their crooked beak in kindred blood ; Some haunt the rushy moor, the lonely woods ; Some bathe their silver plumage in the floods ; Some fly to man, his household gods implore, And gather round his hospitable door ; Wait the known call, and find protection there From all the lesser tyrants of the air. 1 Soundlesse-that cannot be fathomed or measured. FOR CHILDREN. 265 The tawny Eagle seats his callow brood — High on the cliff, and feasts his young with blood. On Snowdon’s rocks, or Orkney’s wide domain, Whose beetling cliffs o’erhang the western main, The Royal bird his lonely kingdom forms Amidst the gathering clouds and sullen storms ; Through the wide waste of air he darts his sight, And holds his sounding pinions poised for flight : With cruel eye premeditates the war, And marks his destined victim from afar : Descending in a whirlwind to the ground, His pinions like the rush of waters sound ; The fairest of the fold he bears away, And to his nest compels the struggling prey. He scorns the game by meaner hunters tore, And dips his talons in no vulgar gore. With lovelier pomp, along the grassy plain, The silver pheasant draws his shining train : Once on the painted banks of Ganges’ stream He spread his plumage to the sunny gleam ; Bat now the wiry net his flight confines, He lowers his purple crest, and inly pines. To claim the verse unnumbered tribes appear, That swell the music of the vernal year: Seized with the spirit of the kindly spring, They tune the voice, and sleek the glossy wing, With emulative strife the notes prolong, And pour out all their little souls in song. When winter bites upon the naked plain, Nor food nor shelter in the groves remain, By instinct led, a firm united band, Is marshalled by some skilful general’s hand, 2A 266 SELECT POETRY The congregated nations wing their way In dusky columns o’er the trackless sea ; In clouds unnumbered annual hover o’er The craggy Bass,! or Kilda’s? utmost shore ; Thence spread their sails to meet the southern wind, And leave the gathering tempest far behind ; Pursue the circling sun’s indulgent ray, Course the swift seasons, and o’ertake the day. Mrs, Barbauld. INSECTS. OssERVE the insect race, ordained to keep The lazy sabbath? of a half-year’s sleep ; Entombed beneath the filmy web they lie, And wait the influence of a kinder sky. When vernal sunbeams pierce their dark retreac, The heaving tomb distends with vital heat ; The full-formed brood, impatient of their cell, Start from their trance and burst their silken shell; Trembling awhile they stand, and scarcely dare To launch at once upon the untried air ; At length assured, they catch the favouring gale, And leave their sordid spoils, and high in ether! sail, Lo! the bright train their radiant wings unfold, With silver fringed and freckled o’er with gold. 1 Bass—an island in the Frith of Forth, Scotland. - * Kilda—one of the Hebrides, west of Scotland. 3 Sabbuth—rest. ‘ Ether—the upper region of the ait ¥UR CHILDREN. 267 On the gay bosom of some fragrant flower They idly fluttering live their little hour ; Their life all pleasure, and their task all play, All spring their age, and sunshine all their day. What atom forms of insect life appear! And who can follow Nature’s pencil here P Their wings with azure, green, and purple glossed, Studded with coloured eyes, with gems embossed, Inlaid with pearl, and marked with various stains Of lively crimson through their dusky veins. Some shoot like living stars athwart the night And scatter from their wings a vivid light,! To guide the Indian to his tawny loves, As through the wood with cautious steps he moves. See the proud giant of the beetle race; What shining arms his polished limbs enchase ! Like some stern warrior, formidably bright, His steely sides reflect a gleaming light ; On his large forehead spreading horns he wears ; And high in air the branching antlers bears ; O’er many an inch extends his wide domain, And his rich treasury swells with hoarded grain. Mrs. Barbauld. THE KID. A TEAR bedews my Delia’s eye To think yon playful kid must die ; From crystal spring and flowery mead Must, in his prime of life, recede. 1 Some shoot, &c.—the fireflies, which are very abundant in South America and the West Indies. 268 SELECT POETRY Erewhile,! in sportive circles, round She saw him wheel, and frisk, and bound ; From rock to rock pursue his way, And on the fearful margin play. Pleased on his various freaks to dwell, She saw him climb my rustic cell ; Thence eye my lawns with verdure bright, And seem all ravished at the sight. She tells with what delight he stood To trace his features in the flood : Then skipped aloof with quaint amaze ; And then drew near again to gaze. ‘She tells me how, with eager speed, He fiew to hear my vocal reed ; And how, with critic face profound, And steadfast ear, devoured the sound. His every frolic, light as air, Deserves the gentle Delia's care; And tears bedew her tender eye To think the playful kid must die. Shenstone. DAY-BREAK. Sxz the day begins to break, And the light shoots like a streak Of subtle fire; the wind blows cold While the morning doth unfold ; 1 Frewhile—a little while ago. FOR CHILDREN. 269 Now the birds begin to rouse, And the squirrel from the boughs Leaps, to get him nuts and fruit ; The early lark, that erst! was mute, Carols in the rising day Many a note and many a lay. Beaumont and Fletcher. UNFOLDING THE FLOCKS. SuepHErps, rise, and shake off sleep— See the blushing morn doth peep Through your windows, while the sun To the mountain-tops has run, Gilding all the vales below With the rising flames, which grow Brighter with his climbing still— Up! ye lazy swains ! and fill Bag and bottle for the field ; Clasp your cloaks fast, lest they yield To the bitter north-east wind. Call the maidens up, and find Who lies longest, that she may Be chidden for untimed delay. Feed your faithful dogs, and pray Heaven to keep you from decay, So unfold, and then away. Beaumont and Feicher. Erst—former]y, before. 242 270 SELECT . POETRY FOLDING THE FLOCKS, SHEPHERDS all, and maidens fair, Fold your flocks up; for the air ’Gins! to thicken, and the sun Already his great course hath run. See the dew-drops how they kiss Every little flower that is ; Hanging on their velvet heads, Like a string of crystal beads. See the heavy clouds low falling, And bright Hesperus* down calling The dead night from underground ; At whose rising, mists unsound, Damps and vapours, fly apace, And hover o’er the smiling face Of these pastures, where they come, Striking dead both,bud and bloom : Therefore from such danger lock Every one his loved flock ; And let your dogs lie loose without, Lest the wolf come as a scout From the mountain, and ere day, Bear a lamb or kid away ; Or the crafty thievish fox Break upon your simple flocks. To secure yourself from these Be not too secure in ease ; So shall you good shepherds prove, And deserve your master’s love. 3 *Gins—for begins. * Hesperus—the evening star. ¥OR CHILDREN. 271 Now good night! may sweetest slumbers And soft silerice fall in numbers On your eye-lids: so farewell : Thus I end my evening knell. Beaumont and Fletcher. SWISS HOME-SICKNESS. Wuererore so sad and faint, my heart ? The stranger’s land is fair; Yet, weary, weary, still thou art— What find’st thou wanting there ? What wanting P—All, oh! all I love ! Am TI not lonely here ? Through a fair land, in sooth, I rove, But what like home is dear ? My home! oh! thither would I fly, Where the free air is sweet, My father’s voice, my mother’s eye, My own wild hills to greet ; My hills, with all their soaring steeps, With all their glaciers! bright, Where in his joy the chamois sleeps, Mocking the hunter's might, Here no familiar look I trace, I touch no friendly hand ; 1 Glaciers—fields of ice, such as are met wil hollows of the Alps, , th in the 272 SELECT POETRY No child laughs kindly in my face, As in my own sweet land. Mrs. Hemans. A HAWKING PARTY IN THE OLDEN TIME. Hark ! hark! the merry warder’s horn Far o’er the wooded hills is borne, Far o’er the slopes of ripening corn, On the free breeze away ! The bolts are drawn, the bridge is o'er The sullen moat—and steeds 2 a score, Stand saddled at the castle door, For ’tis a merry day! With braided hair of gold or jet, There’s many a May and Margaret Before her stately mirror set, With waiting-woman by ; There’s scarlet cloak, and hat and hood, And riding-dress of camlet good, Green as the leaf within the wood, To shroud those ladies high. And then into the castle-hall, Come crowding gallant knights and tall, Equipped as for a festival, For they will hawk to-day ;— And then out breaks a general din, From those without, as those within Upon the terrace steps are seen, In such a bright array ! “FOR CHILDREN. 273 The kennelled hounds’ long bark is heard, The falconer talking to his bird, The neighing steeds, the angry word Of grooms impatient there. But soon the bustle is dismissed, The falconer sets on every wrist A hooded hawk,' that’s stroked and kissed By knight and lady fair. And sitting in their saddles free, The brave, the fair of high degree, Forth rides that gallant company, Each with a bird on hand; And falconers with their hawking gear,” And other birds, bring up the rear, And country-folk from far and near Fallin and join the band. And merrily thus in shine and shade, Gay glancing through the forest glade, On rides the noble cavalcade, To moorlands wild and grey ; And then the noble sport is high ; The jess? is loosed, the hood thrown by ; And “ leurre /” the jolly falconers cry, And wheeling round, the falcons fly lmpatient of their prey. 1 Hooded hawk—the falcon’s head was kept covered until the moment that he was let loose after his destined prey. * Hawking gear—the apparatus used in hawking, > Jess—one of the short straps round the leg of a hawk, bv which it was held on the wrist. 74 SELECT POETRY A moment and the quarry’s! ta’en, The falconer’s cry sounds forth amain, The true hawk soars and soars again, © Nor once the game is missed And thus the jocund day is spent, In joyous sport and merriment; And baron bold were well content, To fell his wood, and pawn his rent, For the hawk upon his wrist . Oh, falcon proud, and goshawk gay, Your pride of place has passed away, The lone wood is your home by day, Your resting perch by night, The craggy rock your castle-tower, The gay green wood your “ ladies’ bower,” Your own wild will, the master power That can control your flight ! Yet, noble bird, old fame is thine, Still livest thou in the minstrel’s line ; Still in old pictures art the sign Of high and pure degree ; And still, with kindling hearts we read, How barons came to Runnymead, Falcon on wrist, to do the deed That made all England free ! Mary Howitt. UNKIND REFLECTIONS. On! never let us lightly fling A barb? of woe to wound another ; } Quarry—prey. ? Barb—an arrow. FOR CHILDREN. 275 Oh! never let us haste to bring The cup of sorrow to a brother. Each has the power to wound; but he Who wounds that he may witness pain, Has spurned the law of charity, Which ne’er inflicts a pang in vain. ’Tis godlike to awaken joy, Or sorrow's influence to subdue— But not to wound, or to annoy, Is part of virtue’s lesson too. Peace, winged in fairer worlds above, Shall lend her dawn to brighten this ; Then all man’s labour shall be love, And all his aim his brother’s bliss. Gisborne. THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.! Tout for the brave ! The brave that are no more ! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore ! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel,? And laid her on her side ; 1 The Royal George—a vessel of war of 300 guns, com- manded by Admiral] Kempenfelt, which went down in Spit- head harbour, August 29th, 1782, with 800 men on board who were all lost. 2 Heel—lean on one side. t = SELECT POETRY A land breeze shook the shrouds. And she was overset ; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought; His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock ; His sword was in his sheath ; His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down, With twice four hundred men. Weigh the vessel up, Once dreaded by our foes ! And mingle with our cup The tear that England owes. » Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again, Full-charged with England’s thunder, And plough the distant main.! 1 This hope was never realized. The vessel remained in the spot where it had sunk for more than 50 years; but in the course of the last few years, Colonel Pasley, a celebrated engineer, succeeded, by means of the ing several of the guns and other asunder, with charges of gunpowder, which still held firmly together. diving-bell, in recover- stores, and in bursting the timbers of the huik, FOR CHILDREN. 277 But Kempenfelt is gone; His victories are o’er ; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the wave no more. Cowper. LESSONS TO BE DERIVED FROM BIRDS. Wuart is that, mother ? The lark, my child !— The morn has but just looked out, and smiled, When he starts from his humble grassy nest, And is up and away with the dew on his breast, And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure bright sphere, To warble it out in his Maker’s ear. . Ever, my child! be thy morn’s first lays Tuned, like the lark’s, to thy Maker’s praise. What is that, mother ? The dove, my son! And that low, sweet voice, like a widow’s moan, Is flowing out from her gentle breast, Constant and pure by that lonely nest, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn, For her distant dear one’s quick return. Ever, my son, be thou like the dove— In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. What is that, mother ? The eagle, boy ! Proudly careering his course of joy, Firm on his own mountain vigour relying, Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying 28 278 SELECT POETRY His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun, He swerves not a hair, but bears onward, right on. Boy ! may the eagle’s flight ever be thine, Onward and upward, true to the line. What is that, mother ? The swan, my love ! He is floating down from his native grove ; No loved one, now, no nestling nigh, He is floating down by himself to die ; Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings.! Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home. G. W. Doane. SABBATH MORNING. How still the morning of the hallowed day ! Mute is the voice of rural labour, hushed The ploughboy’s whistle and the milkmaid’s song; The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath Of tedded grass,? mingled with fading flowers, That yestermorn bloomed waving in the breeze : Sounds the most faint attract the ear—the hum Of early bee, the rustling of the leaves, The distant bleating, midway up the hill. To him who wanders o’er the upland leas, “aT 1 The notion of the swan singing before its death, and indeed of its singing at all, must be reckoned amongst the fictions of the poets. ® Tedded grass—newly-mown grass, laid in rows. 3 Lea—enclosed pasture land. FOR CHILDREN. 279 The blackbird’s note comes mellower from the dale, And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark Warbles his heaven-tuned song: the lulling brook Murmurs more gently down the deep-worn glen, While from yon lowly roof, whose curling smoke O’ermounts the mist, is heard at intervals The voice of psalms, the simple song of praise. Grahame. < MORAL MAXIMS FROM VARIOUS AUTHORS. Trust not yourself, but, your defects to know, Make use of every friend, of every foe. Pope. Avoid extremes; and shun the fault of such, Who still are pleased too little, or too much :., At every trifle scorn to take offence— That always shows great pride, or little sense. — Id. By ignorance is pride increased ; Those most assume who know the least. Gay. Cowards are cruel, but the brave Love mercy, and delight to save. ld 280 SELECT POETRY Distrust mankind, with your own heart confer, And dread even there to find a flatterer. Young. Duty by habit is to pleasure turned ; He is content who to obey has learned. Sir Egerton Brydges. To thine own woes he not thy thoughts confined ; But go abroad and think of all mankind. Id. Sap. Firm in resolve by sterling worth to gain Love and respect, thou shalt not strive in vain. ——_— The skies, the air, the morning’s breezy call, Alike are free, and full of health, to all. la He fails who pleasure makes his prime pursuit: For pleasure is of duty done the fruit. Id It is a virtue to improve the mind ; ‘And if for trath we labour we shall find. Id By exercise our skill and courage grows And that which once was scanty, overflows. Ia. FOR CHILDREN, 281 That thou mayst injure no man, dove-like be, And serpent-like, that none may injure thee. Cowper. Absence of occupation is not rest ;— A mind quite vacant is a mind distrest, Id. No wealth into this world we brought, And none can take away ; The blind in mind, the poor in thought, How blind ! how poor are they ! C. D. Sillery. A very little satisfies An honest and a grateful heart ; And who would' more than will suffice, Does covet more than is his part. . 1f happiness has not her seat And centre in the breast, We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest. Burns. Trust not to each accusing tongue, As most weak persons do ; But still believe that story wrong, Which oughé noé to be true. Sheridan, Would—wishes for. 282 282 SELECT POETRY On Folly’s lips-eternal tattlings dwell ; Wisdom speaks little, but that little well ; So lengthening shadeg the sun’s decline betray, But shorter shadows mark meridian day. . Bishop Virtue’s a fund of unexhausted store, For there the very wish for more is more. Id. Go to the bee ! and thence bring home, (Worth all the treasures of her comb) An antidote against rash strife ; She, when her angry flight she wings, But once, and at her peril, stings ; But gathers honey—all her life. Id., How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is To have a thankless child ! Shakspeare. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough ; But riches, endless, are as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he shall be poor. Id. ‘Who best Can suffer, best can do; best reign, who first Well hath obeyed.. Milton, FOR CHILDREN. 283 THE WREN’S NEST. Aone the dwellings framed by birds In field or forest with nice care, Is none that with the little wren’s In snugness may compare. No door the tenement requires, And seldom needs a laboured roof ; Yet it is to the fiercest sun Impervious and storm-proof. So warm, so beautiful withal, In perfect fitness for its aim, That to the kind! by special grace Their instinct surely came. And when from their abode they seek An opportune recess, The hermit has no finer eye For shadowy quietness. These find, mid ivied abbey walls, A canopy in some still nook ; Others are penthoused* by a brae? That-overhangs a brook. There to the brooding bird, her mate Warbles by fits his low clear song ; And by the busy streamlet, both- Are sung.to all day long.. 1 The kind—the wren kind, wrens in general. * Penthoused—covered by a penthouse or shed. 3 ae Scottish word signifying a: dectivity, the slope of a hill. : 284 SELECT POETRY Or in sequestered lanes they build, Where, till the flitting bird’s return, Her eggs within the nest repose - Like relics in an urn. But still, where general choice is good, There is a better and a best: And, among fairest objects, some Are fairer than the rest. This, one of those small builders proved In a green covert, where, from out The forehead of a pollard oak,' The leafy antlers sprout ; For she who planned the mossy lodge, Mistrusting her evasive skill, Had to a primrose looked for aid Her wishes to fulfil. High on the trunk’s projecting brow And fixed an infant's span above The budding flowers, peeped forth the nest, The prettiest of the grove ! The treasure proudly did I show To some whose minds without disdain Can turn to little things ; but once Looked up for it in vain ; ‘Tis gone—a ruthless spoilers prey, Who heeds not beauty, love, or song ; 1 Pollard oak—an oak that has had its head lopped or clipped. FOR CHILDREN. 285 "Tis gone! (so seemed it) and we grieved Indignant at the wrong. Just three days after, passing by, In clearer light the moss-built cell I saw, espied its shaded mouth, And felt that all was well. The primrose for a veil had spread The largest of her upright leaves: And thus, for purposes benign, A simple flower deceives. Concealed from friends who might disturb Thy quiet with no ill intent, Secure from evil eyes and hands, . On barbarous plunder bent. Rest, mother-bird ! and when thy young Take flight, and thou art free to room, When withered is the guardian flower, And empty thy late home, Think how ye prospered, thou and thine, Amid the anviolated grove, Housed near the growing primrose tuft, In foresight, or in love. Wordsworth. OH SPARE MY FLOWER! Ou spare my flower! my gentle flower, The slender creature of a day! Let it bloom out its little hour, And pass away. 286 SILECT POETRY ’ Too soon its fleeting charms must lie Decayed, unnoticed, overthrown ; Oh hasten not its destiny, So like my own. The breeze will roam this way to-morrow, And sigh to find its playmate gone ; The bee will come its sweets to borrow, And meet with none. Oh spare! and let it still outspread, Its beauties to the passing eye, And look up from its lowly bed Upon the sky. Oh spare my flower! Thou know’st not what Thy undiscerning hand would tear ; A thousand charms thou notest not, Lie treasured there. Not Solomon, in all his state, Was clad like Nature’s simplest child, Nor could the world combined create One floweret wild. Spare, then, this humble monument Of the Almighty’s power and skill ; And let it at his shrine present Its homage still. He made it who makes nought in vain ; He watches it who watches thee ; And He can best its date ordain, Who bade it be. J yee. FOR CHILDREN. 287 LAMBS AT PLAY. Say, ye that know, ye who have felt and seen Spring’s morning smiles and soul-enlivening green, Say, did you give the thrilling transport way ? Did your eye brighten, when young lambs at play Leaped o’er your path with animated pride, Or gazed in merry clusters by your side ? Ye who can smile—to wisdom no disgrace— At the arch meaning of a kitten’s face ; If spotless innocence, and infant mirth, - Exites to praise or gives reflection birth ; In shades like these pursue your favourite joy, *Midst Nature's revels, sports that never cloy. A few begin a short but vigorous race, And Indolence, abashed, soon flies the place : Thus challenged forth, see thither, one by one, From every side, assembling playmates run ; A thousand wily antics mark their stay, A starting crowd, impatient of delay : Like the fond dove from fearful prison freed, Each seems to say, “ Come, let us try our speed ;” Away they scour, impetuous, ardent, strong, The green turf trembling as they bound along ; Adown the slope, then up the hillock climb, Where every molehill is a bed of thyme ; There, panting, stop; yet scarcely can refrain, A bird, a leaf, will set them off again: Or, if a gale with strength unusual blow, Scattering the wild-brier roses into snow, Their little limbs increasing efforts try Like the torn flower, the fair assemblage fly. 288 SELECT POETRY Ah, fallen rose! sad emblem of their doom; Frail as thyself, they perish while they bloom ! Bloomfield. THE AFFECTION OF A DOG. WHEN wise Ulysses,' from his native coast Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tost, Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone, To all his friends, and e’en his queen, unknown ; Changed as he was, with age, and toils, and cares, Furrowed his reverend face, and white his hairs, In his own palaca forced to ask his bread, Scorned by those slaves his former bounty fed ; Forgot of all his own domestic crew, The faithful dog alone his master knew ! Unfed, unhoused, neglected, on the clay, Like an old servant, now cashiered,? he lay ; And, though e’en then expiring on the plain, Touched with resentment of ungrateful man, And longing to behold his ancient Jord again, Him when he saw, he rose, and crawled to meet— ‘Twas all he could—and fawned and kissed his feet, Seized with dumb joy; then falling by his side, Owned his returning lord, looked up, and died ! ¥ Ulysses—king of Ithaca, (an island in the Mediterranean Sea,) and celebrated asa leader in the Trojan war. * Cushiered—discarded, turned off. FOR CHILDREN. 989 THE ROSE. Tue Rose had been washed, just washed in a shower, Which Mary to Anna conveyed ; The plentiful moisture encumbered the flower, And weighed down its beautiful head. The cup was all filled, and the leaves were all wet, And it seemed, .—_- In square \6mo. price 2s, 6d. handsomely bound in cloth, with gilt edges, STRATAGEMS: A STORY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. BY MRS. NEWTON CROSLAND, LATE CAMILLA TOULMIN. 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In \8mo. price 3s., scarlet cloth, gilt edges, with frontispiece, SELECT POETRY FOR CHILDREN; WITH BRIEF EXPLANATORY NOTES, BY JOSEPH PAYNE. **A very nice little volume, containing a charming collection of poetry."— Spectator. ** We do net know any other book that, in the same compass, contains such a rich selection of pieces, that are at once sprightly and instructive, pathetic and devout."—Congregational Magasine, “ A very pleasing and suitable selection.” Westminster Review. ** It is really a treat to see anything so simply good as the little volume before. us."— Metropolitan Magasine. —_—oe Also, by the same Editor, new edition, iz fap. 8vo. price 6s. in cluth, with frontispiece, STUDIES IN ENGLISH POETRY; WITH SHORT BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES AND NOTES, EXPLANATORY AND CRITICAL, , Intendod as a Text-Book for the Higher Classes in Schools, and as an Introduction to English Literature, ———— IN PREPARATION, STUDIES IN ENGLISH PROSE, ON THE SAME PLAN. 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