XI.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE. ·

THERE'S George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald
Shore,

Three rosy-cheeked School-boys, the highest not more
Than the height of a Counsellor's bag;

To the top of GREAT How did it please them to climb;
And there they built up, without mortar or lime,

A Man on the peak of the crag.

They built him of stones gathered up as they lay;
They built him and christened him all in one day,
An Urchin both vigorous and hale;

And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones.
Now Ralph is renowned for the length of his bones;
The Magog of Legberthwaite dale.

Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth,
And, in anger or merriment, out of the North
Coming on with a terrible pother,

From the peak of the crag blew the Giant away.
And what did these School-boys?—The very next day
They went and they built up another.

GREAT HOW is a single and conspicuous hill, which rises towards the foot of Thirl-mere, on the western side of the beautiful dale of Legberthwaite, along the high road between Keswick and Ambleside.

XII.

THE PET-LAMB,

A PASTORAL.

THE dew was falling fast, the stars began 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.

No other sheep 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.

"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.

Towards the Lamb she looked; and from that 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 that 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 wouldst 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!

VOL, I.

D

"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 which 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 Dam 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.