The weary wheel to a spinnet turned, And for him who sat by the chimney lug, A manly form at her side she saw, Then she took up her burden of life again, Alas! for Maiden, alas! for Judge, God pity them both! and pity us all, For of all sad words of tongue or pen, Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies And, in the hereafter, angels may WHITTIER. CONTEST BETWEEN THE NOSE AND EYES. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose, So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause 66 So famed for his talent in nicely discerning. In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear, And your Lordship," he said," will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind." Then holding the spectacles up to the court Your Lordship observes they are made with a straddle As wide as the ridge of the Nose is,-in short, Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. "Again, would your Lordship a moment suppose ('Tis a case that has happened, and may be again), That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray who would or who could wear spectacles then? 66 On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them." Then shifting his side, as a lawyer knows how, So his Lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone, COWPER. THE SALE OF THE PET LAMB. OH! poverty is a weary thing, 'tis full of grief and pain; It boweth down the heart of man, and dulls his cunning brain; It maketh even the little child with heavy sighs com plain. The children of the rich man have not their bread to win; They scarcely know how labour is the penalty of sin; E'en as the lilies of the field they neither toil nor spin. And year by year, as life wears on, no wants have they to bear; In all the luxury of the earth they have abundant share; They walk along life's pleasant ways, where all is rich and fair. The children of the poor man, though they be young each one, Must rise betime each morning, before the rising sun; And scarcely when the sun is set their daily task is done. Few things have they to call their own, to fill their hearts with pride, The sunshine, and the summer flowers upon the highway side, And their own free companionship on heathy commons wide. Hunger, and cold, and weariness, these are a frightful three; But another curse there is beside, that darkens poverty; It may not have one thing to love, how small soe'er it be. A thousand flocks were on the hills, a thousand flocks and more, Feeding in sunshine pleasantly, they were the rich man's store: There was the while one little lamb, beside a cottage door; A little lamb that rested with the children 'neath the tree, That ate, meek creature, from their hands, and nestled to their knee; That had a place within their hearts, one of the family. But want, even as an arméd man, came down upon their shed, The father labour'd all day long that his children might be fed, And, one by one, their household things were sold to buy them bread. That father, with a downcast eye, upon his threshold stood, Gaunt poverty each pleasant thought had in his heart subdued. "What is the creature's life to us?" said he; "'twill buy us food. "Ay, though the children weep all day, and with downdrooping head Each does his small task mournfully, the hungry must be fed ; And that which has a price to bring must go to buy us bread." |