And often after sun-set, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. The first that died was little Jane ; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain; And then she went away. So in the church-yard she was laid; And all the summer dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side." "How many are you then," said I, "If they two are in Heaven?" The little Maiden did reply, "O Master! we are seven." "But they are dead: those two are dead! Their spirits are in Heaven!" 'Twas throwing words away: for still The little Maid would have her will, VOL. 1. ANECDOTE for FATHERS, Showing how the practice of Lying may be taught. I have a Boy of five years old; His face is fair and fresh to see; His limbs are cast in beauty's mould, And dearly he loves me. One morn we stroll'd on our dry walk, Our quiet home all full in view, And held such intermitted talk As we are wont to do. My thoughts on former pleasures ran : A day it was when I could bear To think, and think, and think again; My Boy was by my side, so slim And graceful in his rustic dress! And oftentimes I talked to him, In very idleness. 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," 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; Why, this is strange," said I. |