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Untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin;
THE LOST HEIR. (My dear, the child is swallowing a pin :)
" where, and where
Is my bonnie laddie gone?" - OLD SONG.
One day, as I was going by
That part of Holborn christened High, Light as the singing bird that rings the air,
I heard a loud and sudden cry (The door! the door! he'll tumble down the
That chilled my very blood ; stair :)
And lo! from out a dirty alley, Thou darling of thy sire !
Where pigs and Irish wont to rally, (Why, Jane, he'll set his pinafore afire!)
I saw a crazy woman sally, Thou imp of mirth and joy!
Bedaubed with grease and mud. In love's dear chain so bright a link,
She turned her East, she turned her West, Thou idol of thy parents ; – (Drat the boy !
Staring like Pythoness possest, There goes my ink.)
With streaming hair and leaving breast,
As one stark mad with grief. Thou cherub, but of earth; Fit playfellow for fairies, by moonlight pale, “O Lord ! () dear, my heart will break, I shall In harmless sport and mirth,
go stick stark staring will ! (That dog will bite him, if he pulls his tail !) Has ever a one seen anything about the streets
Thou human humming-bee, extracting honey like a crying lost-looking child ! From every blossom in the world that blows, Lawk help me, I don't know where to look, or to Singing in youth's Elysium ever sunny,
run, if I only knew which way (Another tumble ! That's his precious nose !)
A Child as is lost about London streets, and esThy father's pride and hope !
pecially Seven Dials, is a needle in a (He'll break that mirror with that skipping
bottle of hay. rope !)
I am all in a quiver - get out of my sight, do, With pure heart newly stamped from nature's you wretch, you little Kitty M'Nab! mint,
You promised to have half an eye to him, you (Where did he learn that squint?)
know you did, you dirty deceitful young
drab. Thou young domestic dove !
The last time as ever I see him, poor thing, was (He'll have that ring off with another shove,)
with my own blessed Motherly eyes, Dear nursling of the hymeneal nest !
Sitting as good as gold in the gutter, a playing (Are these torn clothes his best!)
at making little dirt-pies. Little epitome of man !
I wonder he left the court, where he was better (He'll climb upon the table, that's his plan,)
off than all the other young boys, Touched with the beauteous tints of dawning With two bricks, an old shoe, nine oyster-shells,
and a dead kitten by way of toys. life, (He's got a knife !)
When his Father comes home, and he always Thou enviable being !
comes home as sure as ever the clock No storms, no clouds, in thy blue sky foreseeing, Play on, play on,
He'll be rampant, he will, at his child being My elfin John!
lost; and the beef and the inguns not Toss the light ball, bestride the stick,
done! (I knew so many cakes would make him sick !)
La bless you, good folks, mind your own conWith fancies buoyant as the thistle-down,
carns, and don't be making a mob in the Prompting the face grotesque, and antic brisk,
street ; With many a lamb-like frisk!
O Sergeant M'Farlane! you have not come across (He's got the scissors, snipping at your gown !)
my poor little boy, have you, in your
beat? Thou pretty opening rose ! (Go to your mother, child, and wipe your Do, good people, move on ! don't stand staring nose !)
at me like a parcel of stupid stuck pigs ; Balmy and breathing music like the south,
Saints forbid ! but he's p'raps been inviggled (He really brings my heart into my mouth !)
away up a court for the sake of his clothes Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the dove;
by the priggs ; (I'll tell you what, my love,
He'd a very good jacket, for certain, for I bought I cannot write unless he's sent above.)
it myself for a shilling one day in Rag
And his trousers considering not very much | Why, there he is ! Punch and Judy hunting, the
patched, and red plush, they was once his young wretch, it's that Billy as sartin Father's best pair.
as sin ! His shirt, it 's very lucky I'd got washing in the But let me get him home, with a good grip of tub, or that might have gone with the his hair, and I'm blest if he shall have a
whole bone in his skin! But he'd got on a very good pinafore with only
two slits and a burn on the breast. He'd a goodish sort of hat, if the crown
sewed in, and not quite so much jagged at LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD,
Come back, come back together,
All ye fancies of the asta
Ye lays of April weather,
Ye shadows that are cast
By the haunted hours before ! more!
Come back, come back, my Childhood; O dear! to think of losing him just after nussing
Thou art summoned by a spell him back from death's door!
From the green leaves of the wildwood, Only the very last month when the windfalls,
From besiile the charmed well,
For Red Riding Hood, the darling,
The flower of fairy lore !
The fields rere covered over
With colors as she went ;
Daisy, buttercup, and clover
Below her footsteps bent;
Summer shed its shining store ;
She was happy as she pressed them
Beneath her little feet ;
She plucked them and caressed them ; he was guzzling with his bell at the
They were so very sweet,
They had never seemed so sweet before,
To Red Riding Hool, the darling,
The flower of fairy lore.
Upon a sunny day!
And a wide, wide world have they! and Brothers.
A world where Phantasie is king, Or maybe he's stole by some chimbly-sweeping Made all of cager vireaming ; wretch, to stick fast in narrow flues and
When once gidwn up and tallwhat not,
Now is the time for scheming -And be poked up behind with a picked pointed Then we shall do them all! pole, when the soot has ketched, and the
Do such pleasant fancies spring chimbly's red hot.
For Red Riding Hool, the darling,
The flower of fairy lore?
She seems like an ideal love,
soon come back, you 'll see me drop stone Ånd vet loved with a real love,
As if she were our ow]),
A younger sister for the heart;
Her hair is brown and bright;
but a child don't not feel like a child till With its ro v light.
Never can the memory part
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 would not agree thereto,
So here they fell at 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 ;
While babes did quake for fear.
The fellow that did take in hand
These children for to kill Was for a robber judged to die,
As was God's blessed will ; Who did confess the very truth,
The which is here expressed ; Their uncle died while he, for debt,
In prison long did rest.
And overseers eke,
And infants mild and meek,
And yield to each his right, Lest God with such-like misery
Your wicked minds requite.
He took the children by the hand
When tears stood in their eye,
And look they did not cry ;
While they for food complain : “Stay here," quoth he, “I'll bring you bread
When I do come again.”
À MOTHER'S LOVE.
These pretty babes, with hand in hand,
Went wandering up and down, But nevermore they saw the man
Approaching from the town. Their pretty lips with black berries
Were all besmeared and dyed, And when they saw the darksome night
They sate them down and cried.
Thus wandered these two pretty babes
Till death did end their grief; In one another's arms they died,
As babes wanting relief.
Of any man receives,
Did cover them with leaves.
A LITTLE in the doorway sitting,
And now the heavy wrath of God
Upon their uncle fell ;
His conscience felt an hell.
His lands were barren made ; His cattle died within the field,
And nothing with him stayed.
THE GAMBOLS OF CHILDREN.
And, in the voyage of Portugal,
Two of his sons did die ; And, to conclude, himself was brought
To extreme misery.
Ere seven years came about ;
Did by this means come out :
Down the dimpled greensward dancing
Bursts a flaxen-headed bevy, Bud-lipt boys and girls advancing,
Love's irregular little levy. Rows of liquid eyes in laughter,
How they glimmer, how they quiver ! Sparkling one another after,
Like bright ripples on a river.
Tipsy band of rubious faces,
Not willing to be left -- still by my side, Flushed with Joy's ethereal spirit, Flaunting my walks, while sumnier-day was Make your mocks and sly grimaces
dying ; At Love's self, and do not fear it. Nor leaving in thy turn, but pleased to glide
Through the dark room where I was sadly
Or by the couch of pain, a sitter meek,
Watch the dim eye, and kiss the fevered cheek.
Earth's fragile idols ; like a teuder flower. Three little girls with fluttering curls No strength in all thy freshness, prone to fade, Flit to and fro together : -
And being weakly to the thuuser-slouer; There's Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen, Still, round the loved, thy heart found force to And Maud with her mantle of silver-green,
bind, And Kate with her scarlet feather.
And clung, like woodbine shaken in the wind ! Under my window, under my window, Then Thor, my merry lore, -- bold in thy glue, Leaning stealthily over,
Under the bough, or by the firelight dancing, Merry and clear, the voice I hear,
With thy sweet temjer, and thy spirit fre, Of each glaul-hearted rover.
Didst come, as restless as a bird's wing glanAh! sly little Kate, she steals my roses ;
cing, Aud Maud and Bell twine wreaths and posies, Full of a wild and irrepressible mirthi
, As merry as bees in clover.
Like a young suubeam to the gluddened earth ! Under my window, under my window,
Thine was the shout, the song, the burst of joy, In the blue Midsummer weather,
Which sweet from childhool's rosy lip reStealing slow, on a hushed tiptoe,
soundeth ; I catch them all together :
Thine was the eager spirit nanght could eloy, Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen,
And the glad heart from which all grief reAnd Maud with her mantle of silver-green,
bourdeth : And Kate with the scarlet feather.
And many a mirthful jest and mock reply Under my window, under my window
Lurked in the laughter of thy dark-blue eye. And off through the orchard closes ;
And thine was many an art to win and bless, While Maud she flouts, and Bell she pouts,
The cold and stern to joy and fonduess warme They scamper and drop their posies ; But dear little Kate takes naught amiss,
The coxing smile, the frequent soft caress, And leaps in my arms with a loving kiss,
The painest, tearful prayer all wrath disarmAnd I give her all iny roses.
ing! Again my heart a new affection found, But thought that love with thee had reacliecl its
bound. THE MOTHER'S HEART.
At length THOU caniest, -thou, the last and Wiex first thou camest, gentle, shy, and fonil,
least, My eldest born, first hope, and dearest treasure,
Nicknamed “the Emperor" by thy laughing My heart received thee with a joy beyond
brothers, All that it yet had felt of earthly pleasure ;
Becatise a haughty spirit swelled thy breast, Nor thought that any love again might be And thou didst seek to rule and sway the So deep and strong as that I felt for thee.
Mingling tith every playful infant wile
And natural piety that leaned to heaven;
Yei patient to rebuke when justly given ; An eye of resolute and successful scheming! Obedient, easy to be reconciled,
Fair shouklers, curling lips, and dauntless brox, And meekly chverful ; such wert thot, my Fit for the world's strife, not for poet's dream.