TO A LITTLE GIRL.

Wore not his cheek the apple's ruddy glow,

Would you not say he slept on Death's cold arm?

Awake, my boy! I tremble with affright!

Awake, and chase this fatal thought! Unclose
but for one moment on the light!

Thine eye
Even at the price of thine, give me repose!

Sweet error! he but slept; I breathe again;

Come, gentle dreams, the hour of sleep beguile!

Oh, when shall he, for whom I sigh in vain,

Beside me watch, to see thy waking smile?

LONGFELLOW.

TO A LITTLE GIRL.

JIMELY blossom, infant fair,
Fondling of a happy pair,
Every morn and every night
Their solicitous delight;

Sleeping, waking, still at ease,

Pleasing, without skill to please;
Little gossip, blithe and hale,
Tattling many a broken tale,
Singing many a tuneless song,
Lavish of a heedless tongue;
Simple maiden, void of art,
Babbling out the very heart,
Yet abandoned to thy will,
Yet imagining no ill,

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64

THE CHRISTENING.

Yet too innocent to blush,
Like the linnet in the bush,
To the mother-linnet's note
Moduling her slender throat;
Chirping forth thy petty joys;
Wanton in the change of toys,
Like the linnet green, in May
Flitting to each bloomy spray;
Wearied then and glad of rest,
Like the linnet in the nest :
This, thy present happy lot,

This, in time will be forgot:

Other pleasures, other cares,
Ever-busy Time prepares;

And thou shalt in thy daughter see

This picture once resembled thee.

A. PHILIPS.

THE CHRISTENING.

ET, though so prudent, there were times of joy,
The day they wed, the christening of the boy,
When to the wealthier farmers there was shown
Welcome unfeigned, and plenty like their own;
For Susan served the great, and had some pride

Among our topmost people to preside:

When grave, conceited nurse, of office proud,

Bore the young Christian, roaring, through the crowd.

CRABBE.

WAKE, ye sweet and shadowy thoughts that bring
Remembrance o'er me of the happy vale,
Whose rocks and woody dells were wont to ring
With the wild glee of years I now bewail!
Ever the west wind there, with dripping wing,

Leaving the chafed waves, the riven sail,

In its calm glens secluded, loved to rest,

And gather softness from its peaceful breast!