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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.
Thou little tricksy Puck!
With antic toys so funnily bestuck,

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

strikes one,

.

THOMAS HOOD.

Fair;

rest;

THOMAS Hoon

was

!

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,

the brim.
With one shoe on, and the other shoe is a boot,

Come back, come back together,
and not a fit, and you 'll know by that

All ye fancies of the asta
if it's him,

Ye lays of April weather,
And then he has got such dear winning ways-

Ye shadows that are cast
but O, I never, never shall see him no

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,
hang 'em, was at twenty a penny !

For Red Riding Hood, the darling,
And the threepence he'd got by grottoing was

The flower of fairy lore !
spent in plums, and sixty for a child is

The fields rere covered over
too many.

With colors as she went ;
And the Cholera man came and whitewashed us

Daisy, buttercup, and clover
all, and, drat him! made a seize of our

Below her footsteps bent;
hog.

Summer shed its shining store ;
It's no use to send the Crier to cry him about,
he's such a blunderin' drken old dog ;

She was happy as she pressed them

Beneath her little feet ;
The last time he was fetched to find a lost child

She plucked them and caressed them ; he was guzzling with his bell at the

They were so very sweet,
Crown,

They had never seemed so sweet before,
And went and cried a boy instead of a girl, for

To Red Riding Hool, the darling,
a distracted Mother and Father about

The flower of fairy lore.
Town.
Billy – where are you, Billy, I say? come, Billy, How the heart of childhood dances
come home, to your best of Mothers!

Upon a sunny day!
I'm scared when I think of them Cabroleys, they It has its own romances,
drive so, they 'd run over their own Sisters

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,
0, I'd give the whole wide world, if the world

The flower of fairy lore?
was mine, to clap my two longin' eyes on
his face.

She seems like an ideal love,
For he's my darlin' of darlin's, and if he don't The poetry of childhood shown,

soon come back, you 'll see me drop stone Ånd vet loved with a real love,
dead on the place.

As if she were our ow]),
I only wish I'd got him safe in these two Moth-

A younger sister for the heart;
erly arms, and would n't I hug him and Like the woodland pheasant,
kiss him !

Her hair is brown and bright;
Lawk! I never knew what a precious he was And her smile is pleasant,

but a child don't not feel like a child till With its ro v light.
you miss him,

Never can the memory part

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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.
You that executors be made,

And overseers eke,
Of children that be fatherless,

And infants mild and meek,
Take you example by this thing,

And yield to each his right, Lest God with such-like misery

Your wicked minds requite.

ANONYMOUS

He took the children by the hand

When tears stood in their eye,
And bade them come and go with him,

And look they did not cry ;
And two long miles he led them on,

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.
No burial this pretty pair

Of any man receives,
Till robin redbreast, painfully,

Did cover them with leaves.

A LITTLE in the doorway sitting,
The mother plied her busy knitting ;
And her cheek so softly smiled,
You might be sure, although her gaze
Was on the meshes of the lace,
Yet her thoughts were with her child.
But when the boy had heard her voice,
As o'er her work she did rejoice,
His became silent altogether;
And slyly creeping by the wall,
He seized a single plume, let fall
By some wild bird of longest feather ;
And, ail a-tremble with his freak,
He touched her lightly on the cheek.
0, what a loveliness her eyes
Gather in that one moment's space,
While peeping round the post she spies
Her darling's laughing face !
0, mother's love is glorifying,
On the cheek like sunset lying ;
In the eyes a moistened light,
Softer than the moon at night!

And now the heavy wrath of God

Upon their uncle fell ;
Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house,

His conscience felt an hell.
His barns were fired, his goods consumed,

His lands were barren made ; His cattle died within the field,

And nothing with him stayed.

THOMAS BURBIDGE

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.
He pawned and mortgaged all his land

Ere seven years came about ;
And now, at length, this wicked act

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.

GEORGE DARLEY,

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

lying ;

Or by the couch of pain, a sitter meek,
UNDER MY WINDOW.

Watch the dim eye, and kiss the fevered cheek.
UNDER my window, under my window, O boy ! of such as thou are ofteneat made
All in the Midsummer weather,

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.

others,

Mingling tith every playful infant wile
Faithful and truc, with sense beyond thy years, A mimic majesty that made us smile.

And natural piety that leaned to heaven;
Wrung by a harsh word suddenly to tears, And O, most like a regal chill mert thou !

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.

child !

ing ;

THOMAS WESTWOOD,

ing ;

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