Sent forth a cry forlorn,

The lamb, still swimming round and round, Made answer in that plaintive sound.

When he had learnt what thing it was
That sent this rueful cry, I ween
The boy recovered heart, and told
The sight which he had seen.
Both gladly now deferred their task;
Nor was there wanting other aid:
A Poet, one who loves the brooks
Far better than the sages' books,
By chance had hither strayed;

And there the helpless lamb he found
By those huge rocks encompassed round.

He drew it from the troubled pool,

And brought it forth into the light:

The Shepherds met him with his charge, An unexpected sight!

Into their arms the lamb they took,

Whose life and limbs the flood bad spared;

Then up the steep ascent they hied,

And placed him at his mother's side;

And gently did the Bard

Those idle shepherd-boys upbraid,

And bade them better mind their trade.

XII.

ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS.

Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges." - EUSEBIUS.

I HAVE a boy of five years old;
His face is fair and fresh to see;

His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,
And dearly he loves me.

One morn we strolled on our dry walk,
Our quiet home all full in view,
And held such intermitted talk
As we are wont to do.

My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
I thought of Kilve's delightful shore,
Our pleasant home when spring began,
A long, long year before.

A day it was when I could bear
Some fond regrets to entertain;
With so much happiness to spare,
I could not feel a pain.

The green earth echoed to the feet

Of lambs that bounded through the glare,
From shade to sunshine, and as fleet

From sunshine back to shade.

Birds warbled round me, and each trace

Of inward sadness had its charm;

Kilve, thought I, was a favored place,
And so is Liswyn farm.

My boy beside me tripped, so slim
And graceful in his rustic dress!
And, as we talked, I questioned him,

"Now tell me, had you rather be," I said, and took him by the arm,

"On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm?"

In careless mood he looked at me,
While still I held him by the arm,
And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be
Than here at Liswyn farm."

"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 three 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.

XIII.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE..

THERE's George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore,

Three rosy-cheeked schoolboys, 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, A Man on the peak of the crag.

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.

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 schoolboys? - 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 rememberance whereof my blood sometimes will flag;

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 Kes wick and Ambleside.