THE

FEMALE VAGRANT.

My Father was a good and pious man,
An honest man by honest parents bred;
And I believe, that, soon as I began

To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,
And in his hearing there my prayers I said:
And afterwards, by my good Father taught,
I read, and loved the books in which I read;
For books in every neighbouring house I sought,
And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.

The suns of twenty summers danced along,—
Ah! little marked how fast they rolled away :
Then rose a stately Hall our woods among,

And cottage after cottage owned its sway.
No joy to see a neighbouring House, or stray
Through pastures not his own, the master took;
My Father dared his greedy wish gainsay;

He loved his old hereditary nook,

And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook.

But, when he had refused the proffered gold,

To cruel injuries he became a prey,

Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
His troubles grew upon him day by day,
And all his substance fell into decay.

They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried
To move their hearts-but it was vain-for they
Seized all he had; and, weeping side by side,

We sought a home where we uninjured might abide.

It was in truth a lamentable hour,

When, from the last hill-top, my Sire surveyed,
Peering above the trees, the steeple tower
That on his marriage-day sweet music made.
Till then he hoped his bones might there be laid,
Close by my Mother, in their native bowers;
Bidding me trust in God, he stood and prayed,-
I could not pray :-through tears that fell in showers
I saw our own dear home, that was no longer ours.

There was a Youth, whom I had loved so long,
That when I loved him not I cannot say.

'Mid the green mountains many and many a song
We two had sung, like gladsome birds in May.
When we began to tire of childish play

We seemed still more and more to prize each other; We talked of marriage and our marriage day;

And I in truth did love him like a brother;

For never could I hope to meet with such another.

Two years were pass'd, since to a distant Town
He had repair'd to ply the artist's trade.

What tears of bitter grief till then unknown!
What tender vows our last sad kiss delayed!
To him we turned:-we had no other aid..
Like one revived, upon his neck I wept :
And her whom he had loved in joy, he said.
He well could love in grief: his faith he kept;,
Father slept.

And in a quiet home once more my

We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest
With daily bread, by constant toil supplied..
Three lovely Infants lay upon my breast;

And often, viewing their sweet smiles, I sighed,.
And knew not why. My happy Father died
When sad distress reduced the Children's meal :-
Thrice happy! that from him the grave did hide
The empty loom, cold hearth, and silent wheel,
And tears that flowed for ills which patience could
not heal.