"And let all this be as it was before." And all at once the old man burst in sobs: "I have been to blame, to blame! I have kill'd my son ! "I have kill'd him-but I loved him-my dear son! "May God forgive me! I have been to blame. "Kiss me, my children!" Then they clung about The old man's neck, and kiss'd him many times, And all his love came back a hundred fold; And for three hours he sobb'd o'er William's child, So those four abode 31. ODE TO THE CUCKOO. HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove! Thou messenger of spring! Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome sing. What time the daisy decks the Thy certain voice we hear; green, Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Delightful visitant, with thee And hear the sound of music sweet From birds among the bowers. Tennyson. The school-boy wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates the lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, O could I fly, I'd fly with thee! Logan. 32. - JOHN ANDERSON. John Anderson, my jo, John, 1 smooth. 2 head, i.e. poll. 3 cheerful. We've had wi' ane anither: Now we may totter down John, 33. AFTER BLENHEIM. Ir was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And by him sported on the green She saw her brother Peterkin In playing there had found; He came 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, "I find them in the garden, Burns. "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 fought each other for." "It was the English," Kaspar cried, "But what they fought each other for "My father lived at Blenheim then, 66 They burnt his dwelling to the ground, "And he was forced to fly: "So with his wife and child he fled, "Nor had he where to rest his head. "With fire and sword the country round "Was wasted far and wide, "And many a childing mother then "And new-born baby died: "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 Marlbro' won "And our good Prince Eugene;" "Why 'twas a very wicked thing!" 66 'Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he, "It was a famous victory. "And everybody praised the Duke “Why that I cannot tell,” said he, 34. SIGNS OF RAIN. THE hollow winds begin to blow, F Southey. |