And hopelessly and aimlessly The scared old leaves were flying, And shivering on the corner stood No cloak nor hat her small soft arms Her dimpled face was stained with tears; And, one hand round her treasure, while "He came and played at Milly's steps, I've walked about a hundred hours, The monkey's gone, I've spoiled my flowers; "But, what's your mother's name, and what The street? Now think a minute." "My mother's name is 'Mamma dear'; The street-I can't begin it." "But what is strange about the house, 66 Or new, not like the others?" "I guess you mean my trundle-bed, Mine and my little brother's. "Oh, dear! I ought to be at home, And we are both such players - The sky grew stormy; people passed I said at last, despairing. I tied a kerchief round her neck "What ribbon's this, my blossom?" "Why, don't you know?" she smiling asked, And drew it from her bosom. A card with number, street, and name! "For," said the little one, "you see I might sometime forget it; And so I wear a little thing, ABOU BEN ADHEM. LEIGH HUNT. ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord!" "And is mine one?" asked Abou. 66 Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spake more low, But cheerly still; and said "I "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote and vanished. The next night It came again, with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blest; And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest! THE PARROT. THOMAS CAMPBELL. A PARROT, from the Spanish main, Full young and early caged came o'er, To spicy groves where he had won For these he changed the smoke of turf, But petted in our climate cold, He lived and chattered many a day: At last when blind, and seeming dumb, To Mulla's shore. He hailed the bird in Spanish speech, WE ARE SEVEN. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. I MET a little cottage girl: She was eight years old, she said; She had a rustic, woodland air, "Sisters and brothers, little maid, "And where are they? I pray you tell." And two are gone to sea. "Two of us in the churchyard lie, "You say that two at Conway dwell, Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell, |