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, Of children that be fatherless, A MOTHER'S LOVE. ANONYMOUS A LITTLE in the doorway sitting, But when the boy had heard her voice, O, what a loveliness her eyes O, mother's love is glorifying, In the eyes a moistened light, Tipsy band of rubious faces, GEORGE DARLEY. UNDER MY WINDOW. UNDER my window, under my window, Flit to and fro together : There's Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen, And Maud with her mantle of silver-green, And Kate with her scarlet feather. Under my window, under my window, Merry and clear, the voice I hear, Of each glad-hearted rover. Ah! sly little Kate, she steals my roses; Under my window, under my window, I catch them all together: Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen, Under my window, under my window, And off through the orchard closes ; While Maud she flouts, and Bell she pouts, They scamper and drop their posies; But dear little Kate takes naught amiss, And leaps in my arms with a loving kiss, And I give her all my roses. THOMAS WESTWOOD. THE MOTHER'S HEART. WHEN first thou camest, gentle, shy, and fond, All that it yet had felt of earthly pleasure; Faithful and true, with sense beyond thy years, Ye patient to rebuke when justly given; Obedient, easy to be reconciled, And meekly cheerful; such wert thou, my child! Nor sheep nor kine were near; the lamb 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. The lamb, while from her hand he thus his supper took, Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his tail with pleasure shook. "Drink, pretty creature, drink!" she said, in such a tone That I almost received her heart into my own. 'T was little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare! I watched them with delight: they were a lovely pair. "Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in this can You Moon! have you done something wrong in heaven, That God has hidden your face? Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran; I hope, if you have, you will soon be forgiven, And twice in the day, when the ground is wet And shine again in your place. with dew, "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." "Two of us in the churchyard lie, Dwell near them with my mother.” "You say that two at Conway dwell, Then did the little maid reply, "You run about, my little maid; Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye 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. "My stockings there I often knit ; My kerchief there I hem ; "And often after sunset, sir, "The first that died was Sister Jane; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain; "So in the churchyard she was laid; And, when the grass was dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. "And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side." TO A CHILD, DURING SICKNESS. And balmy rest about thee I sit me down, and think Yet almost wish, with sudden shrink, Thy sidelong pillowed meekness; The little trembling hand These, these are things that may demand Sorrows I've had, severe ones, But when thy fingers press |