II.

TO A BUTTERFLY.

STAY near me do not take thy flight!

A little longer stay in sight!

Much converse do I find in Thee,

Historian of my Infancy!

Float near me; do not yet depart!

Dead times revive in thee:

Thou bring'st, gay Creature as thou art!

A solemn image to my heart,

My Father's Family!

Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,

The time, when in our childish plays,
My Sister Emmeline and I

Together chased the Butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush

Upon the prey-with leaps and springs
I followed on from brake to bush;

But She, God love her! feared to brush The dust from off its wings.

III.

FORESIGHT,

Or the Charge of a Child to his younger Companion.

THAT is work of waste and ruin
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,

We must spare them here are many :

Look at it the Flower is small,

---

Small and low, though fair as any:
Do not touch it! summers two

I am older, Anne, than you.

Pull the Primrose, Sister Anne!

Pull as many as you can.

- Here are Daisies, take

your

fill;

Pansies, and the Cuckow-flower:

Of the lofty Daffodil

Make your bed, and make your bower; Fill your lap, and fill your bosom;

Only spare the Strawberry-blossom!

Primroses, the Spring may love them

Summer knows but little of them;

Violets, a barren kind,

Withered on the ground must lie;

Daisies leave no fruit behind

When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.

God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured Strawberry-flower.
When the months of spring are fled
Hither let us bend our walk

;

Lurking berries, ripe and red,

Then will hang on every stalk,

Each within its leafy bower;

And for that promise spare the flower!

IV.

CHARACTERISTICS

Of a Child three Years old.

LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild;
And Innocence hath privilege in her

To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;
And feats of cunning; and the pretty round
Of trespasses, affected to provoke
Mock-chastisement and partnership in play.
And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth,

Not less if unattended and alone

Than when both young and old sit gathered round

And take delight in its activity,

Even so this happy Creature of herself

Is all sufficient: solitude to her

Is blithe society, who fills the air

With gladness and involuntary songs.

Light are her sallies as the tripping Fawn's

Forth-startled from the fern where she lay couched ;

Unthought-of, unexpected as the stir

Of the soft breeze ruffling the meadow flowers;
Or from before it chasing wantonly

The many-coloured images impressed
Upon the bosom of a placid lake.

V.

ADDRESS TO A CHILD,

During a boisterous Winter Evening.

BY A FEMALE FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR.

WHAT way does the Wind come? What way does he go?

He rides over the water, and over the snow,

Through wood, and through vale; and o'er rocky height

Which the goat cannot climb takes his sounding

flight.

He tosses about in

every

bare tree,

As, if you look up, you plainly may see;
But how he will come, and whither he goes
There's never a Scholar in England knows.

He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook,
And rings a sharp larum ;- but if you should look
There's nothing to see but a cushion of snow