But my lord drew a chair close by,
And said, in a feeling tone,

"Have you not, sir, a daughter, I pray,
You never would see or own?"

The old man alarm'd, cried aloud,
"A hardened sinner am I!

I would give all my worldly goods,
To see her before I die.

Then my lord brought his wife and child
To their home and parent's face,
Who fell down and thanks returned
To God, for his mercy and grace.

The bells, ringing up in the tower,
Are sending a sound to the heart;
There's a charm in the old church-bells,
Which nothing in life can impart !

XLVI.

[The tale of Simple Simon forms one of the chap-books, but the following verses are those generally sung in the nursery.]

SIMPLE Simon met a pieman
Going to the fair;

Says Simple Simon to the pieman,

Let me taste your ware.

Says the pieman to Simple Simon, "Show me first your penny." Says Simple Simon to the pieman, "Indeed I have not any."

Simple Simon went a fishing
For to catch a whale :
All the water he had got
Was in his mother's pail.

XLVIII.

THERE was a crooked man, and he went a

crooked mile,

He found a crooked sixpence against a

crooked stile :

He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,

And they all lived together in a little crooked house.

XLIX.

SOLOMON GRUNDY,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday:
This is the end
Of Solomon Grundy.

L.

ROBIN the Bobbin, the big-bellied Ben, He eat more meat than fourscore men; He eat a cow, he eat a calf,

He eat a butcher and a half;

He eat a church, he eat a steeple,
He eat the priest and all the people!

A cow and a calf,
An ox and a half,

A church and a steeple,
And all the good people,

And yet he complain'd that his stomach

wasn't full.

THERE was a fat man of Bombay,
Who was smoking one sunshiny day,
When a bird, called a snipe,

Flew away with his pipe,

Which vex'd the fat man of Bombay.

LII.

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 ?"