"Now, little Edward, say why so;
My little Edward, tell me why."-
"I cannot tell, I do not know."-
"Why, this is strange," said I;

"For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm:

There surely must some reason be

Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm
For Kilve by the green sea."

At this, my boy hung down his head,
He blushed with shame, nor made reply;
And five times to the child I said,
"Why, Edward, tell me why?"

His head he raised-there was in sight,
It caught his eye, he saw it plain-
Upon the house-top, glittering bright,
A broad and gilded vane.

Then did the boy his tongue unlock,
And eased his mind with this reply:
"At Kilve there was no weather-cock;
And that's the reason why."

O dearest, dearest boy! my heart
For better lore would seldom yearn,
Could I but teach the hundredth part
Of what from thee I learn.

1798.

XI.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE.

THERE'S George Fisher, CharlesFleming, and ReginaldShore, Three rosy-cheeked school-boys, the highest not more Than the height of a counsellor's bag;

To the top of GREAT HOW* did it please them to climb: And there they built up, without mortar or lime,

They built him of stones gathered up as they lay:
They built him and christened him all in one day,
An urchin both vigorous and hale;

And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones.
Now Ralph is renowned for the length of his bones;
The Magog of Legberthwaite dale.

* GREAT HOW is a single and conspicuous hill, which rises towards the foot of Thirlmere, on the western side of the beautiful dale of Legberthwaite, along the high road between Keswick and Ambleside.

Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth,
And, in anger or merriment, out of the north,
Coming on with a terrible pother,

From the peak of the crag blew the giant away.

And what did these school-boys?—The very next day They went and they built up another.

-Some little I've seen of blind boisterous works
By Christian disturbers more savage than Turks,
Spirits busy to do and undo:

At remembrance whereof my blood sometimes will flag;
Then, light-hearted Boys, to the top of the crag;
And I'll build up a giant with you.

1801.

XII.

THE PET-LAMB

A PASTORAL.

THE dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink ;
I heard a voice; it said, “Drink, pretty creature, drink!”
And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied

A snow-white mountain-lamb with a Maiden at its side.

Nor sheep nor kine were near; the lamb was all alone,
And by a slender cord was tethered to a stone;
With one knee on the grass did the little Maiden kneel,
While to that mountain-lamb she gave its evening meal.

The lamb, while from her hand he thus his supper took, Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his tail with pleasure shook.

"Drink, pretty creature, drink," she said in such a tone

That I almost received her heart into my own.

'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare!
I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair.
Now with her empty can the maiden turned away:
But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps did she stay.

Right towards the lamb she looked; and from a shady place I unobserved could see the workings of her face :

If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring, Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little Maid might sing:

"What ails thee, young One? what? Why pull so at thy cord?
Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board?
Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be ;
Rest, little young One, rest; what is 't that aileth thee?

What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart?
Thy limbs are they not strong? And beautiful thou art :
This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers ;
And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears!

If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain,
This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst gain;
For rain and mountain-storms! the like thou need'st not fear,
The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come here.