70 TRADITIONARY BALLAD. "Then take me on your knee, mother, "And merry was the glee of the harp-strings, But, O, the sound of the talking "And what were the words, my Mary, That did hear them say?" you "I'll tell you all, my mother, But let me have my way! "And some, they played with the water, 'And this,' they said, 'shall speedily turn "For there has been no water O, the miller, how he will laugh "And some, they seized the little winds, And each put a horn into his mouth, And blew so sharp and shrill : "And there,' said they, 'the merry winds go, Away from every horn; And those shall clear the mildew dank From the blind old widow's corn! O, the poor, blind old widow,— Though she has been blind so long, She'll be merry enough when the mildew's gone, And the corn stands stiff and strong!' "And some they brought the brown lint-seed, And flung it down from the Low: And this,' said they, 'by the sunrise, "O the poor, lame weaver, When he sees his dwindling flax-field "And then upspoke a brownie, With a long beard on his chin: ་ 'I have spun up all the tow,' said he, ' And I want some more to spin. "I've spun a piece of hempen cloth, And I want to spin another, A little sheet for Mary's bed, "And with that I could not help but laugh, And I laughed out loud and free; And then on the top of the Caldon-Low There was no one left but me. 72 TO THE LADY-BIRD. "And all on the top of the Caldon-Low And nothing I saw but the mossy stones "But as I came down from the hill-top, How busy the jolly miller was, And how merry the wheel did go! "And I peeped into the widow's field, "And down by the weaver's croft I stole But I saw the weaver at his gate, Now, this is all I heard, mother, So, prythee, make my bed, mother, TO THE LADY-BIRD.— Mrs. Southey. LADY-BIRD! lady-bird! fly away home,- Lady-bird lady-bird! fly away home,- The dew's falling fast, and your fine speckled wings Will flag with the close-clinging damp. Lady-bird lady-bird! fly away home,- The owl's come abroad, and the bat 's on the roam, Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home, The fairy bells tinkle afar! Make haste, or they 'll catch ye, and harness ye fast With a cobweb to Oberon's car. Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home,- Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home, - THE ROOK AND THE SPARROW.-Miss Lamb. A LITTLE boy with crumbs of bread 74 TO A REDBREAST. In a hard time of frost and snow, TO A REDBREAST.- Langhorne. LITTLE bird with bosom red, |