She hastes with joyous steps and quick, (we know what children are,) And, spying soon her father out, she shouted from afar "Oh, father, dearest father, such a plaything I have found, I never saw so fair a one on our own mountain ground.” Her father sat at table then, and drank his wine so mild, And, smiling with a parent's smile, he asks the happy child, “What struggling creature hast thou brought so carefully to me? Thou leap'st for very joy, my pet: come, open, let us see!” She opes her kerchief carefully, right gladly you may deem, And shows her eager sire the plough, the peasant, and the team; And when she'd placed before his sight the new-found pretty toy, She clasped her hands, and screamed aloud, and cried for very joy. But her father looked quite sadly down, and shaking slow his head, “What hast thou brought me home, my child?—This is no toy," he said. "Go, take it quickly back again, and put it down below; The peasant is no plaything, girl; how couldst thou think him so? "Be off! without a sigh or sob, and do my will," he said; “You know, without the peasant, girl, we'd none of us have bread. 'Tis from the peasant's hardy stock the race of giants are: The peasant is no plaything, child: no! God forbid he were." Richardson's German Ballads. THE INCHCAPE ROCK. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, Without or sign or sound of their shock, Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; And I'll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok." The boat is lower'd, the boatmen row, Quoth Sir Ralph, "The next who comes to the rock Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away; He scour'd the seas for many a day; And now, grown rich with plunder'd store, On the deck the Rover takes his stand, Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon, But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell." Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, And the ship sinks down beneath the tide. Southey. THE MAN AND THE SNAKE. ONCE on a time, as Æsop tells, He raised the creature from the ground, When lo, some spark of life he found The man, whose large compassion ranged And placed the serpent in his breast. Under his kindly bosom's glow, Slowly the stiffened coils outdrew; Is pleasure in a gen'rous breast. Sudden he stops, with shriek and start— Then falls a corpse, all swollen and black! The snake's fell tooth had pierced the heart, Whose warmth to life had brought it back. Punch. *Fells, steep, barren hills. THE LINNET CHOIR. A LINNET choir sang in a chestnut crown,— Till the stream of their song ran warbling down And entered a cottage door; And this was the burden of their lay, As they piped in the yellow tree:"I love my sweet little lady-bird, And I know that she loves me: 'Chip, chip, cherry chip, cherry, cherry, cherry chip!' We linnets are a merry band, A happy company." It chanced a poet passed that way, His ear their language caught: I shall steal that song, and carry it home To my dear family 'Chip, chip, cherry chip, cherry, cherry, cherry chip!'" And that song they sing now every eve, His children, wife, and he. Capern. |