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To toil, to tug- little fool!
While thou canst be a horse at school,

To wish to be a man!
Perchance thou deem'st it were a thing
To wear a crown, to be a king !

And sleep on regal down!
Alas ! thou know'st not kingly cares ;
For happier is thy head that wears

That hat without a crown!
And dost thou think that years acquire
New added joys ? Dost think thy sire

More happy than his son ?
That manhood's mirth ? Oh, go thy ways
To Drury Lane when - plays,

And see how forced our fun !
Thy taws are brave ! thy tops are rare !-
Our tops are spun with coils of care,

Our dumps are no delight !-
The Elgin marbles are but tame,
And 'tis at best a sorry game

To fly the Muse's kite!
Our hearts are dough, our heels are lead,
Our topmost joys fall dull and dead

Like balls with no re-bound !
And often with a faded eye
We look behind, and send a sigh

Towards that merry ground !
Then be contented. Thou hast got
The most of heaven in thy young lot ;

There's sky-blue in thy cup!
Thou'lt find thy manhood all too fast-
Soon come, soon gone ! and age at last

A sorry breaking-up!


The dew was falling fast, the stars begun 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.
Nor sheep nor kine was 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.; 'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare! I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair. Now with her empty can the maiden turned away; But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps did she stay. Right towards the lamb she looked ; and from a shady place I unobserved could see the workings of her face: If nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring, Thus, thought I, to her lamb the little maid might sing: “ What ails thee, young one? what? why pull so at thy cord? “Is 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 would 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, “ This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain ;

“For rain and mountain-storms! the like thou need'st not fear, “The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come here. “Rest, little young one, rest; thou hast 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. “He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home: “A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam; “A faithful nurse thou hast ; the dame 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 in the day, when the ground is wet with dew, “I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new. “Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now, “Then I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough; “My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold “Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold. “It will not, will not rest! poor creature, can it be “ That 'tis thy mother's heart which 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 roam 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 dread the raven in the sky; “Night and day thou art 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 !” As homeward through the lane I went with lazy feet, This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat;

And it seemed, as I retraced the ballad line by line, That but half of it was hers, and one half of it was mine. Again, and once again, did I repeat the song ; “Nay” said I, “more than half to the damsel must belong, “ For she looked with such a look, and she spake with such a

tone, " That I almost received her heart into my own."


Ir chanced upon a winter's day,
But warm, and bright, and calm as May,
The birds, conceiving a design
To forestall sweet St. Valentine,
In many an orchard, copse and grove,
Assembled on affairs of love,
And with much twitter and much chatter,
Began to agitate the matter.
At length a Bullfinch, who could boast
More years and wisdom than the most,
Entreated, opening wide his beak,
A moment's liberty to speak;
And silence publicly enjoin'd,
Deliver'd briefly thus his mind:
“My friends! be cautious how ye treat
“ The subject upon which we meet;
“I fear we shall have winter yet.”
A finch, whose tongue knew no control,
With golden wing and satin poll,
A last year's bird, who ne'er had tried
What pairing means, thus pert replied:
“Methinks the gentleman," quoth she,
“ Opposite in the apple tree,

“By his good will would keep us single
“Till yonder heaven and earth shall mingle,
“Or, (which is likelier to befall)
« Till death exterminate us all.
“I couple without more ado;
“My dear Dick Redcap, what say you?"
Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling,
Turning short round, strutting and sidling,
Attested glad his approbation
Of an immediate conjugation.
Their sentiments so well express'd
Influenced mightily the rest ;
All pair'd and each pair built a nest.
But though the birds were thus in haste,
The leaves came on not quite so fast,
And Destiny, that sometimes bears
An aspect stern on man's affairs,
Not altogether smiled on theirs.
The wind, of late breath'd gently forth,
Now shifted east, and east by north ;
Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know,
Could shelter them from rain and snow,
Stepping into their nests, they paddled,
Themselves were chill'd their eggs were addled.
Soon every father bird and mother
Grew quarrelsome, and peck'd each other.
Parted without the least regret,
Except that they had ever met,
And learn'd in future to be wiser
Than to neglect a good adviser.


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