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Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.

High on the hill-top

The old king sits;

He is now so old and gray
He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist,
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys

From Slieveleague to Rosses;

Or going up with music,
On cold starry nights,

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with the Queen

Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget

For seven years long;

When she came down again,

Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back,

Between the night and morrow; They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow.

They have kept her ever since

Deep within the lakes, On a bed of flag leaves, Watching till she wakes.

By the craggy hillside,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring

As dig one up in spite?
He shall find the thornies set
In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting, For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

-William Allingham

THE CLOCKING HEN

"WILL you take a walk with me,

My little wife, to-day?

There's barley in the barley-field,
And hay-seed in the hay."

"Thank you," said the clocking hen; "I've something else to do;

I'm busy sitting on my eggs,
I cannot walk with you."

"Clock, clock, clock, clock,"

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Said the clocking hen;

My little chicks will soon be hatched,
I'll think about it then."

The clocking hen sat on her nest,

She made it in the hay;

And warm and snug beneath her breast,
A dozen white eggs lay.

Crack, crack, went all the eggs,

Out dropped the chickens small!
"Clock," said the clocking hen,
"Now I have you all."

"Come along, my little chicks,
I'll take a walk with you."
"Hollo!" said the barn-door cock,

"Cock-a-doodle-do!"

-Aunt Effie's Rhymes

THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD

Now ponder well, you parents dear,

NOW

These words which I shall write;

A doleful story you shall hear,

In time brought forth to light.

A gentleman of good account
In Norfolk dwelt of late,
Who did in honor far surmount
Most men of his estate.

Sore sick he was, and like to die,
No help his life could save;
His wife by him as sick did lie,
And both possessed one grave.

No love between these two was lost,
Each was to other kind;

In love they lived, in love they died,
And left two babes behind:

The one a fine and pretty boy,
Not passing three years old;
The other a girl more young than he,
And framed in beauty's mold.

The father left his little son,

As plainly did appear,

When he to perfect age should come,
Three hundred pounds a year.

And to his little daughter Jane
Five hundred pounds in gold,
To be paid down on marriage-day,
Which might not be controll'd.

But if the children chance to die
Ere they to age should come,
Their uncle should possess their wealth;
For so the will did run.

"Now, brother," said the dying man,
"Look to my children dear;

Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friends else have they here:

"To God and you I recommend
My children dear this day;

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