A day it was when I could bear

To think—and think—and think again;
With so much happiness to spare,
I could not feel a pain.

My Boy was by my side, so slim
And graceful in his rustic dress!
And oftentimes I talked to him,
idleness.

In very

The

young lambs ran a pretty race; The morning sun shone bright and warm; "Kilve," said I, "was a pleasant place; And so is Liswyn farm.

My little Boy, which like you more,"
I said, and took him by the arm —
"Our home by Kilve's delightful shore,
Or here at Liswyn farm?

And tell me, had you rather be,"

I said, and held him by the arm,

"At Kilve's smooth shore by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm ?"

In careless mood he looked at me,

While still I held him by the arm,
And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be
Than here at Liswyn farm."

"Now, little Edward, say why so;
My little Edward, tell me why?"-
"I cannot tell, I do not know."
"Why, this is strange," said I.

"For, here are woods, and green

There surely must some reason be

hills warm:

Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm
For Kilve by the green sea."

At this, my Boy hung down his head,
He blushed with shame, nor made reply;
And five times to the Child I said,
"Why, Edward, tell me why?"

His head he raised - there was in sight,

It caught his eye, he saw it plain –
Upon the house-top, glittering bright,
A broad and gilded Vane.

Then did the boy his tongue unlock;
And thus to me he made reply:
"At Kilve there was no weather-cock,
And that's the reason why."

O dearest, dearest Boy! my heart
For better lore would seldom yearn,
Could I but teach the hundredth part
Of what from thee I learn.

XI.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE.

THERE'S George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore,

Three rosy-cheeked School-boys, the highest not

more

Than the height of a Counsellor's bag;

To the top of GREAT How did it please them to climb;

And there they built up, without mortar or lime, A Man on the peak of the crag.

They built him of stones gathered up as they lay; They built him and christened him all in one day, An Urchin both vigorous and hale;

And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones.

Now Ralph is renowned for the length of his bones; The Magog of Legberthwaite dale.

Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth,
And, in anger or merriment, out of the North
Coming on with a terrible pother,

From the peak of the crag blew the Giant away. And what did these School-boys?-The very next

day

They went and they built up

another.

Some little I've seen of blind boisterous works
By Christian disturbers, more savage than Turks,
Spirits busy to do and undo;

At remembrance whereof my blood sometimes will

flag

-Then, light-hearted Boys, to the top of the crag! And I'll build up a Giant with you.

GREAT HOW is a single and conspicuous hill, which rises towards the foot of Thirl-mere, on the western side of the beautiful dale of Legberthwaite, along the high road between Keswick and Ambleside.