"Oh the miller, how he will laugh, When he sees the mill-dam rise! The jolly old miller, how he will laugh, "And some they seized the little winds, And each put a horn into his mouth, "And there,' said they, 'the merry winds go Away from every horn; And those shall clear the mildew dank From the blind old widow's corn: Though she has been blind so long, She'll be merry enough when the mildew's gone, And the corn stands stiff and strong!' "And some they brought the brown linseed, 666 "Oh, the poor lame weaver! How will he laugh outright "And then upspoke a brownie, With a long beard on his chin ; 'I have spun up all the tow', said he, ' And I want some more to spin. I "I've spun a piece of hempen cloth, And I want to spin another— A little sheet for Mary's bed "And with that I could not help but laugh, "And all on the top of the Caldon-Low And nothing I saw but the mossy stones But, as I came down from the hill-top, How busy the jolly miller was, And how merry the wheel did go ! "And I peeped into the widow's field, And, sure enough, was seen The yellow ears of the mildewed corn 1 All standing stiff and green ! "And down by the weaver's croft I stole, To see if the flax were high; But I saw the weaver at his gate With the good news in his eye ! Now, this is all that I heard, mother, So, prithee, make my bed, mother, For I'm tired as I can be !" THE CHILDREN IN THE MOON. HEARKEN, child, unto a story! For the moon is in the sky, And across her shield of silver See two tiny cloudlets fly. Watch them closely, mark them sharply, See, my child, across their shoulders It is said these little children, To a little well far northward To the wayside-well they trotted, Quoth the man, "How vexed and sulky But the little handsome maiden Trips behind him full of joy. "To the well behind the hedgerow "How they please me! how they tempt me ! 'Children, ay, and children's children, Should behold my babes on high; And my babes should smile for ever, Calling others to the sky!" Thus the philosophic moon-man Never is the bucket empty, Never are the children old; Ever when the moon is shining We the children may behold. Ever young and ever little, Ever sweet and ever fair! When thou art a man, my darling, Still the children will be there. Ever young and ever little, They will smile when thou art old; When thy locks are thin and silver, Theirs will still be shining gold. They will haunt thee from their heaven, On thy cradle, on thy tomb! - From the Scandinavian. HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD. By the shores of Gitchee Gumee, There the wrinkled old Nokomis the Naked Bear will hear thee !" Who is this that lights the wigwam? |