led a wandering life among the fields; Forgone the home delight of constant truth, And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth. Three years thus wandering, often have I view'd, She wept ;-because she had no more to say POEMS REFERRING TO THE PERIOD OF CHILDHOOD. My heart leaps up when I behold So was it when my life began; The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. TO A BUTTERFLY. STAY near me-do not take thy flight? 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, Together chased the Butterfly! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey:-with leaps and spring I followed on from brake to bush; But she, God love her! feared to brush THE SPARROW'S NEST. BEHOLD, within the leafy shade, On me the chance-discovered sight She looked at it as if she feared it: She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; FORESIGHT, OR THE CHARGE OF A CHILD TO HIS YOUNGER COMFANION THAT is work of waste and ruin- We must spare them-here are many: 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; Of the lofty daffodil Make your bed, and make your bower; Primroses, the Spring may love them- Violets, a barren kind, Withered on the ground must lie Daisies leave no fruit behind When the pretty flowrets die; God has given a kindlier power Lurking berries, ripe and red, And for that promise spare the flower! CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD THREE YEARS LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild; To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes; And feats of cunning; and the pretty round Mock-chastisement and partnership in play. Not less if unattended and alone Than when both young and old sit gathered round 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; The many-coloured images impressed Upon the bosom of a placid lake. 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 whether he goes He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook, And rings a sharp larum ;-but if you should look -Yet seek him-and what shall you find in the place? Nothing but silence and empty space, Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves, That he's left for a bed for beggars or thieves! As soon as 'tis daylight, to-morrow, with me And growls as if he would fix his claws Drive them down, like men in a battle: -But let him range round; he does us no harm, We build up the fire, we're snug and warm; wie Untouch'd by his breath see the candle shines bright, Books have we to read,-hush! that half-stified kne11, -Come, now we'll to bed! and when we are there THE MOTHER'S RETURN. BY THE SAME. A MONTH, Sweet little ones, is passed O blessed tidings! thought of joy! Louder and louder did he shout With witless hope to bring her near; Nay, patience! patience, little boy! Your tender mother cannot hear." I told of hills, and far-off towns, And long, long vales to travel through; |