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They ’ve ta’en a weapon long and sharp,
And cut him by the knee ; Then tied him fast upon a cart,
Like a rogue for forgery.
They laid him down upon his back,
And cudgelled him full sore ;
And turned him o'er and o’er.
They filled up a darksome pit
With water to the brim,
There let him sink or swim.
They laid him out upon the floor,
To work him further woe,
They tossed him to and fro.
They wasted o'er a scorching flame
The marrow of his bones ;
For he crushed him between two stones.
And they have ta’en his very heart's blood,
And drunk it round and round; And still the more and more they drank,
Their joy did more abound.
THE GREAT-GRANDFATHER. - Miss Lamb.
Mother's grandfather lives still,
His age is fourscore years and ten ; He looks a monument of time,
The agedest of aged men.
Though years lie on him like a load,
A happier man you will not see Than he, whenever he can get i
His great-grandchildren on his knee.
When we our parents have displeased,
He stands between us as a screen, By him our good deeds in the sun,
Our bad ones in the shade, are seen.
His love 's a line that 's long drawn out,
Yet lasteth firm unto the end ; His heart is oak, yet unto us
It like the gentlest reed can bend.
A fighting soldier he has been,
Yet by his manners you would guess That he his whole long life had spent
In scenes of country quietness.
His talk is all of things long past,
For modern facts no pleasure yield, Of the famed year of forty-five,
*Of William, and Culloden's field.
The deeds of this eventful age,
Which princes from their thrones have hurled, Can no more interest wake in him,
Than stories of another world.
When I his length of days revolve,
How like a strong tree he hath stood,
Those patriarchs old before the flood.
THE WIND IN A FROLIC. — William Howitt.
The wind one morning sprang up from sleep,
Puffing the birds, as they sat on the spray,
Then it rushed like a monster o'er cottage and farm,
caps, To see if their poultry were free from mishaps ; The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud, And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd ; There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be
But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain, For it tossed him, and twirled him, then passed, and
he stood With his hat in a pool, and his shoe in the mud.
THE NORTHERN SEAS. - William Howitt.
Up! up ! let us a voyage take ;
Why sit we here at ease ?
Bound for the Northern Seas.
Away then went these pretty babes,
Rejoicing at that tide, Rejoicing with a merry mind,
They should on cock-horse ride.
As they rode on their way,
And work their lives' decay.
So that the pretty speech they had
Made murderous hearts relent;
Full sore they did repent.
Did vow to do his charge,
Had paid him very large.
The other would not agree thereto,
So here they fell at strife;
About the children's life ;
Did slay the other there,
While babes did quake for fear.
He took the children by the hand,
When tears stood in their eye ;
And look they did not cry.
While they for food complain : : “Stay here,” quoth he, “ I'll bring you bread,
When I do come again."