Untouch'd by his breath see the candle shines bright, And burns with a clear and steady light; Books have we to read,· but that half-stifled knell, Alas! 'tis the sound of the eight o'clock bell. - Come now we'll to bed! and when we are there He may work his own will, and what shall we care? He may knock at the door, May drive at the windows, we'll not let him in ; we'll laugh at his din; Let him seek his own home wherever it be; Here's a cozie warm House for Edward and me. VI. THE MOTHER'S RETURN. By the same. A MONTH, Sweet Little-ones, is passed Since your dear Mother went away, And she to-morrow will return; To-morrow is the happy day. 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, But he submits; what can he do? No strife disturbs his Sister's breast; Her joy is like an instinct, joy She dances, runs without an aim, the note, Her Brother now takes up Then, settling into fond discourse, While sweetly shone the evening sun Our rambles by the swift brook's side We talked of change, of winter gone, To her these tales they will repeat, . But, see, the evening Star comes forth ! To bed the Children must depart; A moment's heaviness they feel, A sadness at the heart: They run up stairs in gamesome race; I, too, infected by their mood, I could have joined the wanton chase. Five minutes past - and, O the change ! VII. LUCY GRAY; OR, SOLITUDE. OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray: I chanced to see at break of day No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew ; She dwelt on a wide Moor, -The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door! Yo u yet may spy the Fawn at play, The Hare upon the Green; But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen. |