I made a garland for her head, And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; She looked at me as she did love, And made sweet moan. She found me roots of relish sweet, She took me to her elfin grot, And there she gazed and sighed deep, And there we slumbered on the moss, I saw pale kings and princes too, Pale warriors-death-pale were they all, 'Who cried, 'La Belle Dame Sans Mercy Hath thee in thrall!' I saw their starved lips in the gloom, On the cold hill-side. And this is why I sojourn here, Though the sedge is withered from the lake, And no birds sing. KEATS. THE CHILD AND THE SNAKE HENRY was every morning fed With a full mess of milk and bread. Which through his mother's orchard ran. Escape his mother's eye, he there Takes his food in th' open air. Through the long grass his heap'd-up mess. When she saw the infant take His bread and milk close to a snake! The least small noise, O have a care- The wily snake will be afraid If he hear the lightest sound, He will inflict th' envenom'd wound. -She speaks not, moves not, scarce does breathe, As she stands the trees beneath; No sound she utters; and she soon Sees the child lift up his spoon, As speaking to familiar mate, 'Keep on your own side, do, Grey Pate:' Tapping the snake, 'Keep further, do; TOM BOWLING HERE, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling, No more he'll hear the tempest howling, Tom never from his word departed, His friends were many and true-hearted, And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly, Ah, many's the time and oft! But mirth is turn'd to melancholy, For Tom is gone aloft. Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather, Shall give, to call life's crew together, The word to pipe all hands. Thus Death, who kings and tars despatches, For though his body's under hatches, His soul has gone aloft. M. LAMB. C. DIBDIN. THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES THAT way look, my Infant, lo! See the Kitten on the wall, Sporting with the leaves that fall, Withered leaves-one-two-and three From the lofty elder-tree! Through the calm and frosty air -But the Kitten, how she starts, In her upward eye of fire! With a tiger-leap half way Now she meets the coming prey, Lets it go as fast, and then Has it in her power again: Now she works with three or four, Like an Indian conjuror; Quick as he in feats of art, Far beyond in joy of heart. Were her antics played in th' eye Clapping hands with shout and stare, T |