POEMS

REFERRING TO THE PERIOD OF CHILDHOOD.

VOL. I.

B

I.

My heart leaps up when I behold
A Rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began ;
So is it now I am a Man;

So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!

The Child is Father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

II.

TO A BUTTERFLY.

STAY near me - do not take thy flight!

A little longer stay in sight!

Much converse do I find in Thee,

Historian of my Infancy!

Float near me; do not yet depart !

Dead times revive in thee:

Thou bringest, gay Creature as thou art! A solemn image to my heart,

My Father's Family!

Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My Sister Emmeline and I

Together chased the Butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush

Upon the prey:

with leaps and springs

I followed on from brake to bush;

But she, God love her! feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.

III.

FORESIGHT,

OR THE CHARGE OF A CHILD TO HIS YOUNGER
COMPANION.

THAT is work of waste and ruin
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
We must spare them - here are many:
Look at it- - the Flower is small,
Small and low, though fair as any:
Do not touch it! summers two

I am older, Anne, than you.

Pull the Primrose, Sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.

Here are Daisies, take your fill ;
Pansies, and the Cuckow-flower:
Of the lofty Daffodil

Make your bed, and make your bower;
Fill your lap, and fill your bosom ;
Only spare the Strawberry-blossom!

Primroses, the Spring may love them
Summer knows but little of them:
Violets, a barren kind,

Withered on the ground must lie;
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.

God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured Strawberry-flower.
When the months of Spring are fled
Hither let us bend our walk;
Lurking berries, ripe and red,
Then will hang on every stalk,
Each within its leafy bower;

And for that promise spare the flower!

IV.

CHARACTERISTICS

OF A CHILD THREE YEARS OLD.

LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild;
And Innocence hath privilege in her
To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;
And feats of cunning; and the pretty round
Of trespasses, affected to provoke
Mock-chastisement and partnership in play.
And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth,
Not less if unattended and alone