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SPORTING through the forest wide; Playing by the waterside; Wandering o'er the heathy fells; Down within the woodland dells; All among the mountains wild, Dwelleth many a little child! In the baron's hall of pride; By the poor man's dull fireside : 'Mid the mighty, 'mid the mean, Little children may be seen, Like the flowers that spring up fair, Bright and countless every where! In the far isles of the main; In the desert's lone domain; In the savage mountain-glen, 'Mong the tribes of swarthy men; Whereso'er a foot hath gone; Whereso'er the sun hath shone On a league of peopled ground, Little children may be found! Blessings on them! they in me Move a kindly sympathy, With their wishes, hopes, and fears; With their laughter and their tears; With their wonder so intense, And their small experience! Little children, not alone On the wide earth are ye known, 'Mid its labors and its cares, 'Mid its sufferings and its snares; Free from sorrow, free from strife, In the world of love and life, Where no sinful thing hath trod— In the presence of your God, Spotless, blameless, glorifiedLittle children, ye abide!
A FANCY ABOUT A BOY.
"Nothing,-less than nothing; and vanity."
WE stood beside the window, still-
Within the room was sober gloom;
Without, a sunset sky.
I drew him forward to the light,
I leant his head back o'er my arm,
The dear, dear curls, o'er which salt pearls
I could have rained out there.
I looked beneath his heavy lids,
Drooping with dreamy fold: What visioned eyes I saw arise!
But nothing shall be told.
Gayly I spoke: "Could I count back
Had chanced this heart of mine."
That the whole room lay in such gloom His face alone was seen.
He talked to me in schoolboy phrase;
I mind not what; my sense was nought,
I could not kiss him as a child;
I only touched his hair;
Or with my hand his broad brow spanned, But not that it was fair.
He strange to me, as I to him—
Yet I would fain brave mickle pain
But why this was, and is, God knows;
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.
HAMELIN Town 's in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city;
The river Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side; A pleasanter spot you never spied ; But when begins my ditty,
Almost five hundred years ago, To see the townsfolk suffer so From vermin, was a pity.
They fought the dogs, and killed the cats,
And licked the soup from the cook's own
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
And as for our Corporation-shocking
I've scratched it so, and all in vain.
An hour they sate in counsel
At length the Mayor broke silence:
Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous
"Come in!"-the Mayor cried, looking
And in did come the strangest figure!
At last the people in a body
The tall man and his quaint attire.
To the Town Hall came flocking:
""T is clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone,
Had walked this way from his painted tombstone ! "
He advanced to the council-table:
By means of a secret charm, to draw
On creatures that do people harm—
To match with his coat of the self same
And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;