THE LITTLE BLACK BOY. My mother bore me in the southern wild, But I am black, as if bereaved of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree, And, pointing to the East, began to say: 'Look on the rising sun : there God does live, And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove. 'For, when our souls have learned the heat to bear, The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice, Saying, "Come out from the grove, my love and care, And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice."' Thus did my mother say, and kissèd me, And thus I say to little English boy. When I from black, and he from white cloud free, I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear And be like him, and he will then love me. THE BLOSSOM. MERRY, merry sparrow ! Sees you, swift as arrow, Seek your cradle narrow, Pretty, pretty robin! Under leaves so green A happy blossom Hears you sobbing, sobbing, THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER. WHEN my mother died I was very young, There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head, That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved; so I said, 'Hush, Tom! never mind it, for, when your head's bare, You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.' And so he was quiet, and that very night, As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight !— And by came an angel, who had a bright key, Then naked and white, all their bags left behind, So, if all do their duty, they need not fear harm. THE LITTLE BOY LOST. 'FATHER, father, where are you going? O do not walk so fast! Speak, father, speak to your little boy, Or else I shall be lost.' ! The night was dark, no father was there, The child was wet with dew; The mire was deep, and the child did weep, THE LITTLE BOY FOUND. THE little boy lost in the lonely fen, Appeared like his father, in white. He kissed the child, and by the hand led, Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale, LAUGHING SONG. WHEN the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, When the meadows laugh with lively green, With their sweet round mouths sing 'Ha ha he!' When the painted birds laugh in the shade, A CRADLE SONG. SWEET dreams, form a shade Sweet Sleep, with soft down Sweet Sleep, angel mild, Hover o'er my happy child ! 52 Sweet smiles, in the night Sweet smiles, mother's smiles, Sweet moans, dovelike sighs, Sleep, sleep, happy child! All creation slept and smiled. While o'er thee thy mother weep. Sweet babe, in thy facę Holy image I can trace; Sweet babe, once like thee Thy Maker lay, and wept for me: Wept for me, for thee, for all, Heavenly face that smiles on thee ! Smiles on thee, on me, on all, THE DIVINE IMAGE. To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, Return their thankfulness. |