 | Poetic trifles |  |
3
[Come, pretty master, pretty miss]
Come, pretty master, pretty miss,
Be good, and gain a book like this;
Come, learn your tasks, and scholars be,
Your friends 'twill pleasure much to see.
Be good, and gain a book like this;
Come, learn your tasks, and scholars be,
Your friends 'twill pleasure much to see.
This pretty gift I will present,
To all who are on learning bent;
And if you read this book to me,
The Elephant you then may see.
To all who are on learning bent;
And if you read this book to me,
The Elephant you then may see.
4
What came of firing a Gun.
Ah! there it falls, and now 'tis dead;
The shot went through its pretty head,
And broke its shining wing!
How dull and dim its closing eyes!
How cold, and stiff, and still it lies!
Poor harmless little thing!
The shot went through its pretty head,
And broke its shining wing!
How dull and dim its closing eyes!
How cold, and stiff, and still it lies!
Poor harmless little thing!
It was a lark, and in the sky,
In mornings fine it mounted high,
To sing a merry song;
Cutting the fresh and healthy air,
It whistled out its music there,
As light it skimm'd along.
In mornings fine it mounted high,
To sing a merry song;
Cutting the fresh and healthy air,
It whistled out its music there,
As light it skimm'd along.
Poor little bird!—if people knew
The sorrows little birds go through,
I think that even boys
Would never call it sport and fun,
To stand and fire a frightful gun,
For nothing but the noise.
The sorrows little birds go through,
I think that even boys
Would never call it sport and fun,
To stand and fire a frightful gun,
For nothing but the noise.
5
The Cow.
Thank you, pretty cow, that made
Pleasant milk, to soak my bread;
Ev'ry day, and ev'ry night,
Warm and fresh, and sweet and white.
Pleasant milk, to soak my bread;
Ev'ry day, and ev'ry night,
Warm and fresh, and sweet and white.
Do not chew the hemlock rank,
Growing on the weedy bank;
But the yellow cowslips eat,
They will make it very sweet.
Growing on the weedy bank;
But the yellow cowslips eat,
They will make it very sweet.
Where the purple violet grows,
Where the bubbling water flows,
Where the grass is fresh and fine,
Pretty cow, go there and dine.
Where the bubbling water flows,
Where the grass is fresh and fine,
Pretty cow, go there and dine.
6
The Dunce of a Kitten.
Come, pussy, will you learn to read,
I've got a pretty book:
Nay, turn this way, you must indeed,
Fie, there's a sulky look.
I've got a pretty book:
Nay, turn this way, you must indeed,
Fie, there's a sulky look.
Here is a pretty picture, see,
An apple, and great A:
How stupid you will ever be,
If you do nought but play.
An apple, and great A:
How stupid you will ever be,
If you do nought but play.
Come, A, B, C, an easy task,
What any dunce can do:
I will do any think you ask,
For dearly I love you.
What any dunce can do:
I will do any think you ask,
For dearly I love you.
7
Now, how I'm vex'd, you are so dull,
You have not learnt it half:
You will grow up a downright fool,
And make all people laugh.
You have not learnt it half:
You will grow up a downright fool,
And make all people laugh.
Mamma told me so, I declare,
And made me quite asham'd;
So I resolv'd no pains to spare,
Nor like a dunce be blam'd.
And made me quite asham'd;
So I resolv'd no pains to spare,
Nor like a dunce be blam'd.
Well, get along, you naughty kit,
And after mice go look;
I'm glad that I have got more wit,
I love my pretty book.
And after mice go look;
I'm glad that I have got more wit,
I love my pretty book.
8
One little Boy.
I'm a little gentleman,
Play, and ride, and dance I can;
Very handsome clothes I wear,
And I live on dainty fare:
And whenever out I ride,
I've a servant by my side.
Play, and ride, and dance I can;
Very handsome clothes I wear,
And I live on dainty fare:
And whenever out I ride,
I've a servant by my side.
And I never, all the day,
Need do any thing but play,
Nor even soil my little hand,
Because I am so very grand:
O! I'm very glad, I'm sure,
I need not labour, like the poor.
Need do any thing but play,
Nor even soil my little hand,
Because I am so very grand:
O! I'm very glad, I'm sure,
I need not labour, like the poor.
9
For I think I could not bear,
Such old shabby clothes to wear;
To lie upon so hard a bed,
And only live on barley bread;
And what is worse, too, ev'ry day
To have to work as hard as they.
Such old shabby clothes to wear;
To lie upon so hard a bed,
And only live on barley bread;
And what is worse, too, ev'ry day
To have to work as hard as they.
Another little Boy.
I'm a little husbandman,
Work and labour hard I can;
I'm as happy all the day
At my work as if 'twere play;
Tho' I've nothing fine to wear,
Yet for that I do not care.
Work and labour hard I can;
I'm as happy all the day
At my work as if 'twere play;
Tho' I've nothing fine to wear,
Yet for that I do not care.
10
When to work I go along,
Singing loud my morning song,
With my wallet at my back,
Or my waggon whip to smack;
O, I am as happy then,
As the idle gentlemen.
Singing loud my morning song,
With my wallet at my back,
Or my waggon whip to smack;
O, I am as happy then,
As the idle gentlemen.
I've a hearty appetite,
And I soundly sleep at night,
Down I lie content, and say,
“I've been useful all the day:
I'd rather be a plough-boy, than
A useless little gentleman.”
And I soundly sleep at night,
Down I lie content, and say,
“I've been useful all the day:
I'd rather be a plough-boy, than
A useless little gentleman.”
Employment.
Those who are of riches possess'd,
Are not from employment exempt;
If they give themselves up but to rest,
They're objects of real contempt.
Are not from employment exempt;
If they give themselves up but to rest,
They're objects of real contempt.
The pleasure employments create,
By them cannot be understood;
And tho' they may rank with the great,
They never can rank with the good.
By them cannot be understood;
And tho' they may rank with the great,
They never can rank with the good.
11
Little Lambs.
Look at those pretty little lambs,
How nimble and how brisk,—
See how they skip, and jump, and bound,
And run about, and frisk.
How nimble and how brisk,—
See how they skip, and jump, and bound,
And run about, and frisk.
How good and innocent they are!
How gentle, and how mild!
They seem as harmless in their play,
As any little child.
How gentle, and how mild!
They seem as harmless in their play,
As any little child.
Let then, my dear, these little lambs
Instruct you how to play;
And learn, like them, in innocence
To spend each passing day.
Instruct you how to play;
And learn, like them, in innocence
To spend each passing day.
12
The undutiful Boy.
Little Harry, come along,
And mamma will sing a song,
All about a naughty lad,
Tho' a mother kind he had.
And mamma will sing a song,
All about a naughty lad,
Tho' a mother kind he had.
He never minded what she said,
But only laugh'd at her instead;
And then did just the same, I've heard,
As if she had not said a word.
But only laugh'd at her instead;
And then did just the same, I've heard,
As if she had not said a word.
He would not learn to read his book,
But wisdom's pleasant way forsook,
With wicked boys he took delight,
And learnt to quarrel and to fight.
But wisdom's pleasant way forsook,
With wicked boys he took delight,
And learnt to quarrel and to fight.
13
And when he saw his mother cry,
And heard her heave a bitter sigh,
To think she'd such a wicked son,
He never car'd for what he done!
And heard her heave a bitter sigh,
To think she'd such a wicked son,
He never car'd for what he done!
I hope my little Harry will
Mind all I say, and love me still;
For 'tis his mother's greatest joy,
To think he's not a wicked boy.
Mind all I say, and love me still;
For 'tis his mother's greatest joy,
To think he's not a wicked boy.
The Idle Boy.
Young Thomas was an idle lad,
And loung'd about all day;
And though he many a lesson had,
He minded nought but play.
And loung'd about all day;
And though he many a lesson had,
He minded nought but play.
In vain his mother's kind advice,
In vain his master's care,
He follow'd ev'ry idle vice,
And learnt to curse and swear.
In vain his master's care,
He follow'd ev'ry idle vice,
And learnt to curse and swear.
And think you, when he grew a man,
He prosper'd in his ways?
No—wicked courses never can
Bring good and happy days.
He prosper'd in his ways?
No—wicked courses never can
Bring good and happy days.
14
The Horse.
A horse, long us'd to bit and bridle,
But always much dispos'd to idle,
Had often wish'd that he was able
To steal unnotic'd from the stable.
But always much dispos'd to idle,
Had often wish'd that he was able
To steal unnotic'd from the stable.
At length he ventur'd from his station,
And with extreme self-approbation,
As if deliver'd from a load,
He gallop'd to the public road.
And with extreme self-approbation,
As if deliver'd from a load,
He gallop'd to the public road.
But when dark night began t'appear,
In vain he sought some shelter near;
And well he knew he could not bear,
To sleep out in the open air.
In vain he sought some shelter near;
And well he knew he could not bear,
To sleep out in the open air.
15
The night was dark, the country hilly,
Poor Dobbin felt extremely chilly;
Perhaps a feeling like remorse,
Just now might sting the truant horse.
Poor Dobbin felt extremely chilly;
Perhaps a feeling like remorse,
Just now might sting the truant horse.
'Twas long ere Dobbin could decide,
Betwixt his wishes and his pride,
Whether to live in all this danger,
Or go back sneaking to the manger.
Betwixt his wishes and his pride,
Whether to live in all this danger,
Or go back sneaking to the manger.
At last his struggling pride gave way;
The thought of savoury oats and hay
To hungry stomach, was a reason
Unanswerable at this season.
The thought of savoury oats and hay
To hungry stomach, was a reason
Unanswerable at this season.
So off he set, with look profound,
Right glad that he was homeward bound:
And trotting, fast as he was able,
Soon gain'd once more his master's stable.
Right glad that he was homeward bound:
And trotting, fast as he was able,
Soon gain'd once more his master's stable.
Now Dobbin, after this disaster,
Never again forsook his master,
Convinc'd he'd better let him mount,
Than travel on his own account.
Never again forsook his master,
Convinc'd he'd better let him mount,
Than travel on his own account.
16
Poor Donkey's Epitaph.
Down in a ditch poor Donkey lies,
Who jogg'd with many a load;
And till the day death clos'd his eyes,
Brows'd up and down this road.
Who jogg'd with many a load;
And till the day death clos'd his eyes,
Brows'd up and down this road.
Each market-day he jogg'd along
Beneath his master's load,
And snor'd out many a donkey's song
To friends upon the road.
Beneath his master's load,
And snor'd out many a donkey's song
To friends upon the road.
Poor Donkey! trav'llers passing by,
Thy cold remains shall view;
And 'twould be well if all who die
To duty were as true.
Thy cold remains shall view;
And 'twould be well if all who die
To duty were as true.
[Young Folks should ne'er at old age jest]
Young Folks should ne'er at old age jest,
Or pain and sorrow bring,
To insect, reptile, bird, or beast,
Or any living thing.
Or pain and sorrow bring,
To insect, reptile, bird, or beast,
Or any living thing.
“When children in their wanton play
Serv'd old Elisha so;
And bid the Prophet go his way,
‘Go up, thou bald head, go;’
God quickly stopp'd their wicked breath,
And sent two raging bears,
That tore them limb from limb to death,
With blood, and groans, and tears.”
Serv'd old Elisha so;
And bid the Prophet go his way,
‘Go up, thou bald head, go;’
God quickly stopp'd their wicked breath,
And sent two raging bears,
That tore them limb from limb to death,
With blood, and groans, and tears.”
| Poetic trifles | |