LITTLE BELL. And the while the bonny bird did pour His full heart out freely, o'er and o'er, 'Neath the morning skies, In the little childish heart below All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow, From the blue, bright eyes. Down the dell she tripped, and through the glade ; Peeped the squirrel from the hazel shade, And from out the tree Swung, and leaped, and frolicked, void of fear; While bold blackbird piped that all might hear, "Little Bell!" piped he. Little Bell sat down amid the fern; 66 Squirrel, squirrel, to your task return: Up, away the frisky squirrel hies, Golden wood-lights glancing in his eyes, And adown the tree, Great ripe nuts, kissed brown by July sun, Hark, how blackbird pipes to see the fun! 66 Happy Bell!" pipes he. Little Bell looked up and down the glade: 66 Squirrel, squirrel, if you're not afraid, Come and share with me!" Down came squirrel, eager for his fare, LITTLE BELL. Little Bell gave each his honest share: And the while these frolic playmates twain Piped, and frisked from bough to bough again, 'Neath the morning skies, In the little childish heart below All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow, From the blue, bright eyes. By her snow-white cot at close of day, Very calm and clear Rose the praying voice to where, unseen, In blue heaven, an angel shape serene "What good child is this," the angel said, "That, with happy heart, beside her bed Prays so lovingly?" Low and soft, O very low and soft! Crooned the blackbird in the orchard croft: "Bell, dear Bell!" crooned he. "Whom God's creatures love," the angel fair Murmured, "God doth bless with angels' care; Child, thy bed shall be Folded safe from harm.-Love deep and kind Shall watch around, and leave good gifts behind, Little Bell, for thee." THOMAS WEstwood. SIR MARMADUKE was a hearty knight: Good man! old man! He's painted standing bolt upright, With his hose rolled over his knee; His periwig's as white as chalk, And on his fist he holds a hawk; And he looks like the head I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. His dining-room was long and wide: His spaniels lay by the fireside; A saddle, his wife, and a litter of cats; Of an ancient family. He never turned the poor from the gate: But was always ready to break the pate What knight could do a better thing Than serve the poor, and fight for his king? And so may every head Of an ancient family. GEORGE COLMAN, "the younger." I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window, where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day; I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birthday ; I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow! I remember, I remember The fir-trees, dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky. It was a childish ignorance; But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from Heaven THOMAS HOOD. |