When wolves and tigers howl for prey, And keep them from the sheep. But if they rush dreadful, And there the lion's ruddy eyes And pitying the tender cries, And walking round the fold: Saying Wrath by his meekness, Are driven away From our immortal day. 'And now beside thee, bleating lamb, I can lie down and sleep, Or think on Him who bore thy name, For wash'd in life's river, SPRING. SOUND the flute ! Now 'tis mute; Day and night, Nightingale In the dale, Lark in sky, Merrily, Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. Little boy, Full of joy; Little girl, Sweet and small; Cock does crow, So do you; Merry voice, Infant noise; Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. Little lamb, Here I am; Come and lick My white neck; Let me pull Your soft wool; Let me kiss Your soft face; Merrily, merrily we welcome in the year. NURSE'S SONG. WHEN the voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still. Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise; Come, come, leave off play, and let us away Till the morning appears in the skies. No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, Besides, in the sky the little birds fly, And the hills are all covered with sheep. Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, The little ones leap'd, and shouted, and laugh'd, INFANT JOY. 'I HAVE no name; I am but two days old.' What shall I call thee? I happy am, Joy is my name.' Sweet joy befall thee! Pretty joy! Sweet joy, but two days old. Sweet joy I call thee: Thou dost smile. I sing the while, Sweet joy befall thee! A DREAM. ONCE a dream did weave a shade O'er my angel-guarded bed, That an emmet lost its way Troubled, 'wilder'd, and forlorn, 'O, my children! do they cry, Pitying, I dropp'd a tear: I am set to light the ground, While the beetle goes his round. Follow now the beetle's hum, Little wanderer, hie thee home!' |