DXLVII.

My dear, do you know
How a long time ago,

Two poor little children,

Whose names I don't know,

Were stolen away on a fine summer's day, And left in a wood, as I've heard people say.

And when it was night,

So sad was their plight,

The sun it went down,

And the moon gave no light!

They sobb'd and they sigh'd, and they bitterly cried,

And the poor little things, they lay down and died.

And when they were dead,
The Robins so red

Brought strawberry leaves,

And over them spread;

And all the day long,

They sung them this song,

"Poor babes in the wood! poor babes in the

wood!

And don't you remember the babes in the wood?"

APPENDIX.

THE

LIFE AND DEATH OF TOM THUMB.

FROM

A BLACK LETTER COPY, PRINTED IN 1630,

IN

The Bodleian Library.

LIFE AND DEATH OF TOM THUMB.

IN Arthur's court Tom Thumb did live,

A man of mickle might;

The best of all the table round,
And eke a doughty knight.

His stature but an inch in height,
Or quarter of a span :

Then think you not this little knight

Was proved a valiant man?

His father was a ploughman plain,
His mother milk'd the cow,
Yet how that they might have a son
They knew not what to do:

Until such time this good old man
To learned Merlin goes,

And there to him his deep desires
In secret manner shows.

How in his heart he wish'd to have
A child, in time to come,
To be his heir, though it might be
No bigger than his thumb.

Of which old Merlin thus foretold,
That he his wish should have,
And so this son of stature small
The charmer to him gave.

No blood nor bones in him should be,
In shape, and being such

That men should hear him speak, but not
His wandering shadow touch.

But so unseen to go or come,-
Whereas it pleas'd him still;
Begot and born in half an hour,
To fit his father's will.