Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

When ripe and tempting was the sloe,

The hazel-nut and plum;

When blackberries in clusters grew

With fruit of various shade,
From emerald green and ruby red

To jetty black displayed.
Then would we wander in and out,
A careless happy throng;

No toil save that we were about,
And full of laughs and song.
The golden sunshine all around,
Bright, mellow, rich, and free ;

The heavens above an azure field

Vast as eternity;

The brooklet singing on its course,

The wind a summer breeze,

Which talked and frolicked all the day

Amid the grass and trees.

Ay, those were happy, pleasant times Of youth and liberty,

Such only as 'tis given once

For mortals here to see.

For oh! to be a boy again,

And taste the joys of then ; The present lot will tarry not

To suit the sons of men.

XVI.

THE SCHOOL-MOUSE.

Thus musing, glanced I on the floor,
Where, much to my surprise,

I saw engaged in nibbling crumbs,
A mouse, with roguish eyes,
That sparkled like two tiny beads
Of living coal-black jet,
As, timorously and furtively,
My glancing eyes it met.
But quiet as a mouse I sat

And watched my little guest,
Which hunted all around the room
With many a sportive quest,
Intent on bits of currant cake,
Of apple-core, or cheese,
Bread-pudding, pie, or biscuit chips,

Sweets, orange-pips or peas,

Morsels dropped at dinner-time

From hungry boy or girl,

Now served to make for mousie's sake

A banquet worth a pearl.

At times 'twould sit upon its hams,

And up its body rear,

Whilst listening to the slightest sounds

That broke the quiet air.

If satisfied, 'twould sprightly race,

In gambols, frolics, leaps;

Then suddenly would stand quite still
And give forth little cheeps.
I scarcely could restrain myself

When once it sat to eat,
And took a tiny piece of bread
Between its two forefeet;
Then nibbled rapidly away

With look so droll and sly,

As if it confidently knew

I gazed with kindly eye.

Ay, little creature, who would hurt
A timid thing like thee?
The man or boy who did the wrong
Would more than coward be.

I love too well each living thing
Our Father dear has made,

To startle thee or terrify,

Or make thine heart afraid.

Not me then, mousie, need you fear, Save in some direful need;

No hand of mine shall take a life,

Or make His creatures bleed. But what is this? why whiskest thou

Like shadow flit away ?

What is it that so suddenly

Has sent thee from thy play?

XVII.

THE MESSENGER.

Ah! now I see a laughing face,
A rosy, handsome girl,

Whose flaxen hair is like the waves

When just upon the curl,

To break in sparkling, dancing sprays

Upon the pebbly beach,

A sportive band which kiss the strand
And all within their reach.

So falls her glorious waves of hair
In tresses bright as gold;
In rippling billows small and fair

As ocean ever rolled.

She taps the casement window,
Its diamond leaded panes,
And calls aloud, Come, Uncle John!
For grandmamma complains
The breakfast things are spoiling,

The toast is getting cold, .
The coffee's scarce worth drinking,
I'm sure you'll get a scold.

I rouse me from those old-time dreams

To thoughts of present day;

While as departing pleasant guests,

The past doth speed away.

Then join my pretty messenger,
Who, like the restless tide,
Impatient in the doorway stands,
And playfully doth chide.
I stop her chiding with a kiss,

Then lock the schoolhouse door,
And with it lock within my heart
Those memories of yore.

Composed at Brawby, January to August, 1889.

LIFE'S BATTLE.

LIFE, brethren, is a battle!
The world the battlefield!
"Tis fought there without cannon,
The falchion or the shield;
We hear not sound of armies,

Nor see their banners glow,
Yet ever onward march mankind
To meet a mighty foe,

Whose close and phalanxed legions

Are seen by all around

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »