II.

TO A BUTTERFLY.

STAY near me

-do not take thy flight!

A little longer stay in sight!

Much converse do I find in thee,

Historian of my infancy!

Float near me; do not yet depart!

Dead times revive in thee:

Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!

A solemn image to my heart,

My father's family!

Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline and I

Together chased the butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush

Upon the prey :—with leaps and springs
I followed on from brake to bush;
But she, God love her! feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.

1801.

III.

FORESIGHT.

THAT is work of waste and ruin-
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
We must spare them-here are many :
Look at it-the flower is small,
Small and low, though fair as any:
Do not touch it! summers two

I am older, Anne, than you.

Pull the primrose, sister Anne!

Pull as many as you can.

fill;

Here are daisies, take your Pansies, and the cuckow-flower: Of the lofty daffodil

Make your bed, or make your bower; Fill your lap, and fill your bosom ; Only spare the strawberry-blossom!

Primroses, the Spring may love them-
Summer knows but little of them:

Violets, a barren kind,

Withered on the ground must lie
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.

;

God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured strawberry-flower.
Hither soon as spring is fled
You and Charles and I will walk ;
Lurking berries, ripe and red,

Then will hang on every stalk,

Each within its leafy bower;

And for that promise spare the flower!

1802.

IV.

CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD THREE
YEARS OLD.

LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild;
And Innocence hath privilege in her
To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;
And feats of cunning; and the pretty round
Of trespasses, affected to provoke
Mock-chastisement and partnership in play.
And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth,

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 imprest
Upon the bosom of a placid lake.

1811.

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,
Which the goat cannot climb, takes his sounding flight;
He tosses about in every bare tree,

As, if you look up, you plainly may see;
But how he will come, and whither he goes,
There's never a scholar in England knows.

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,
And softer than if it were covered with silk.
Sometimes he'll hide in the cave of a rock,
Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock;
-Yet seek him,-and what shall you find in the place?
Nothing but silence and empty space;