While a sister that mainly conducted the part Of clothing it first in a shroud, Poured out of the depths of her sorrowful heart The tears that await an ostensible smart, In sobbings continued and loud. The solemnity o'er, to the parlour she stole, And silently closing the door, A Mouse unexpectedly quitted his hole, And seeking security under the sole Of her foot was found dead on the floor. And the sun that illumined that perilous day, When each of the children consented to lay The delicate form of the Mouse. STANZAS WRITTEN IN THE CHARACTER OF ONE OF MY TWIN DAUGHTERS. I LONG to leave the smoky town, To muse awhile, and shun the frown For in his garden do I find So many things to please the sight, That often have I truly pined To linger in its shade till night. The pretty level walks are wide, And all throughout the year is seen A row of box on either side, As straight as it is neat and clean. And Violets in the Spring abound So freely, that with ease I could Collect as many as are found To grow beside the neighbouring wood. The Snowdrop and the Crocus too Spring up as though the land were strewn With jewels of some precious hue, From which the rival tints had grown. And when the early flowers are gone, The Lily of the Valley greets The fond desire of every one That covets her secluded sweets. Coeval with her modest reign, The little joyous Daphne glows With fragrance, that we all maintain Exceeds the more exalted rose. But Lilies of unbounded grace And loveliness perfume the air, In which the youthful heart might trace Some likeness to his gifted fair. The Honeysuckle clasps the arms Extended to sustain the flower, And through the fervid Summer charms The senses at the evening hour. The Roses flourish on each bush As daisies deck the cheerful lawn, And in the month of June we rush To crop them every night and morn. But oh! I cannot tell the rich And varied sweetness of that spot, So many are the beauties which Would seem to say "forget me not.” |