IV. CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD THREE YEARS OLD. LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild; Not less if unattended and alone Than when both young and old sit gathered round And take delight in its activity, Even so this happy Creature of herself Is all-sufficient; solitude to her Is blithe society, who fills the air With gladness and involuntary songs. Light are her sallies as the tripping Fawn's Forth-startled from the fern where she lay couched; Unthought-of, unexpected, as the stir Of the soft breeze ruffling the meadow flowers; Or from before it chasing wantonly The many-coloured images impressed V. ADDRESS TO A CHILD, DURING A BOISTEROUS WINTER EVENING. By a female Friend of the Author. WHAT way does the wind come? What way does he go? He rides over the water, and over the snow, Through wood, and through vale; and o'er rocky height, As, if you look up, you plainly may see; He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook, And rings a sharp larum; but, if you should look, There's nothing to see but a cushion of snow Round as a pillow, and whiter than milk, Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock; Save, in a corner, a heap of dry leaves, That he's left, for a bed, to beggars or thieves! As soon as 'tis daylight, to-morrow, with me Studded with apples, a beautiful show! Hark! over the roof he makes a pause, But let him range round; he does us no harm, We build up the fire, we're snug and warm; Untouch'd by his breath see the candle shines bright, And burns with a clear and steady light; Books have we to read, but that half-stifled knell, Alas! 'tis the sound of the eight o'clock bell. He - Come now we'll to bed! and when we are there may work his own will, and what shall we care? knock at the door, we'll not let him in ; may May drive at the windows, we'll laugh at his din; He Let him seek his own home wherever it be; Here's a cozie warm House for Edward and me. |