And not hers only, their peculiar charms Unfolded, beauty, for its present self, THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT. And for its promises to future years, BY MY SISTER. THE days are cold, the nights are long, Save thee, my pretty Love! The kitten sleeps upon the hearth, Nay! start not at that sparkling light; And wake when it is day. 1805. XXVI. MATERNAL GRIEF. DEPARTED Child! I could forget thee once Though at my bosom nursed; this woeful gain Thy dissolution brings, that in my soul Absence and death how differ they! and how Shall I admit that nothing can restore What one short sigh so easily removed?— Death, life, and sleep, reality and thought Assist me, God, their boundaries to know, O teach me calm submission to thy Will! The Child she mourned had overstepped the pale Of Infancy, but still did breathe the air Those several qualities of heart and mind Which, in her own blest nature, rooted deep, Daily before the Mother's watchful eye, With not unfrequent rapture fondly hailed. Have you espied upon a dewy lawn Their starts of motion and their fits of rest, Of the rejoicing morning were their own? Such union, in the lovely Girl maintained And her twin Brother, had the parent seen Ere, pouncing like a ravenous bird of prey, Death in a moment parted them, and left The Mother, in her turns of anguish, worse Than desolate; for oft-times from the sound Of the survivor's sweetest voice (dear child, He knew it not) and from his happiest looks Did she extract the food of self-reproach, As one that lived ungrateful for the stay By Heaven afforded to uphold her maimed And tottering spirit. And full oft the Boy, Now first acquainted with distress and grief, Shrunk from his Mother's presence, shunned with fear Her sad approach, and stole away to find, A more congenial object. But, as time To imprint a kiss that lacked not power to spread Faint color over both their pallid cheeks, And stilled his tremulous lip. Thus they were calmed And cheered; and now together breathe fresh air In open fields; and when the glare of day Is gone, and twilight to the Mother's wish Befriends the observance, readily they join In walks whose boundary is the lost One's grave, The bird and cage they both were his : 'Twas my Son's bird; and neat and trim He kept it many voyages The singing-bird had gone with him; When last he sailed, he left the bird behind, From bodings, as might be, that hung upon his mind. He to a fellow-lodger's care Had left it, to be watched and fed, And pipe its song in safety ;-there I found it when my Son was dead; And now, God help me for my little wit! I bear it with me, Sir;-he took so much delight in it." 1800. XXVIII. THE CHILDLESS FATHER. "UP, Timothy, up with your staff and away! Not a soul in the village this morning will A coffin through Timothy's threshold had past; One Child did it bear, and that Child was his last. Now fast up the dell came the noise and the The horse and the horn, and the hark! hark fray, away! In several parts of the North of England, when a funeral takes place, a basin full of sprigs of box-wood is placed at the door of the house from which the coffin is taken up, and each person who attends the funeral ordinarily takes a sprig of this box-wood, and throws it into the grave of the deceased. Thy little sister is at play ; yield A long, long way of land and sca! III. Here, little Darling, dost thou lie ; Mine wilt thou be, thou hast no fears; My baby, and its dwelling-place, The nurse said to me, 'Tears should not It was unlucky '-no, no, no; IV. My own dear Little-one will sigh, I should behold his face again! V. 'Tis gone-like dreams that we forget • VI. Oh! how I love thee !-we will stay What warmth, what comfort would it From France to sheltering England To my poor heart, if thou wouldst be One little hour a child to me ! 11. Across the waters I am come, And I have left a babe at home: The following tale was written as an Episode, in a work from which its length may perhaps exclude it. The facts are true; no invention as to these has been exercised, as none was needed. O HAPPY time of youthful lovers (thus My story may begin) O balmy time, In which a love-knot on a lady's brow Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven! To such inheritance of blessed fancy (Fancy that sports more desperately with minds That ever fortune hath been known to do) The high-born Vaudracour was brought, by Plebeian, though ingenuous, the stock, From which her graces and her honours sprung: And hence the father of the enamoured Youth, With haughty indignation, spurned the thought Of such alliance, -From their cradles up, With but a step between their several homes, Twins had they been in pleasure; after strife And petty quarrels, had grown fond again; Each other's advocate, each other's stay; And, in their happiest moments, not content If more divided than a sportive pair Of sea-fowl, conscious both that they are hovering Within the eddy of a common blast, Thus, not without concurrence of an age Unknown to memory, was an earnest given By ready nature for a life of love, For endless constancy, and placid truth Earth breathed in one great presence of the spring; Life turned the meanest of her implements To their full hearts the universe seemed hung On that brief meeting's slender filament! They parted; and the generous Vaudra. cour Reached speedily the native threshold, bent A final portion from his father's hand; Which granted, Bride and Bridegroom then would flee To some remote and solitary place, Their happiness, or to disturb their love. "You shall be baffled in your mad intents If there be justice in the court of France," Muttered the Father.-From these words the Youth Conceived a terror; and, by night or day, Stirred nowhere without weapons, that full soon Found dreadful provocation; for at night His person to the law, was lodged in prison, Have you observed a tuft of winged seed That, from the dandelion's naked stalk, Mounted aloft, is suffered not to use Its natural gifts for purposes of rest, Driven by the autumnal whirlwind to and fro Through the wide element? or have you marked The heavier substance of a leaf-clad bough, Within the vortex of a foaming flood, Tormented? by such aid you may conceive The perturbation that ensued :—ah, no! |