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“ Thou know'st that twice a-day, I have brought thee
in this can Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran; And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with
dew, I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and
" Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are
now, Then I'll yoke thee to my cart, like a pony in the
plough; My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is
cold, Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy
“It will not, will not rest 1-Poor creature, can it be That 't is thy mother's heart that is working so in thee? Things that I know not of, belike to thee are dear, And dreams of things which thou canst neither see
“Alas, the mountain tops, that look so green and fair! I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come
there; The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play, When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey.
“ Here thou need'st not dread the raven in the sky; Night and day thou art safe,-our cottage is hard by. Why bleat so after me? why pull so at thy chain ? Sleep—and at break of day I will come to thee
-As homeward through the lane I went with lazy
feet, This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat: And it seemed, as I retraced the ballad line by line, That but half of it was hers, and one half of it was
Again, and once again, did I repeat the song; “Nay,” said I,“ more than half to the damsel must
belong, For she looked with such a look, and she spake with
such a tone, That I almost received her heart into my own.'
THERE were blithe times with us when the summer
With the nightingale's song, and the honey-bees' hum,
We went all together one bright afternoon,
Old grandmother went with her staff in her hand, She said, “ To see summer once more in the land; While good Uncle William walked cheerfully by, And we had such baskets !--my sister and I.
'T was sweet in the meadows, 't was sweet in the
woods, And great was our gathering of blossoms and buds, By the banks of bright streams, by the roots of old
trees, Where nestled the wild birds and feasted the bees.
Then home with light hearts and full baskets we
sped, When sunset was tinging the old church with red, But paused at our gate to look back on the view, How rich in the gold of the evening it grew.
And grandmother said, as she gazed on the sky,