Phebe, The Blackberry Girl | Page 2

Miss,?For sure 'twill be a work of love.
"And so one morning up I rose,?While yet the fields were wet with dew,
And pick'd the nicest I could find,?And brought them, fresh and sweet, for you.
"I know the gift is small indeed,?For such a lady to receive;?But still I hope you'll not refuse?All that poor Phebe has to give."
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Good Children learning their Hymn.]
GOOD CHILDREN.
How lovely, how charming the sight,?When children their Savior obey!?The angels look down with delight,?This beautiful scene to survey.
Little Samuel was holy and good;?Obadiah served God from his youth,?And Timothy well understood,?From a child, the Scripture of truth.
But Jesus was better than they:?From a child he was spotless and pure,?His parents he loved to obey,?And God's perfect will to endure.
Like Samuel, Lord, I would be,?Obadiah and Timothy, too;?And oh! grant thy help unto me,?The steps of my Lord to pursue.
Make me humble, and holy, and mild,?From the wicked constrain me to flee,?And then though I am but a child,?My soul shall find favor of thee.
[Illustration]
POOR CRAZY ROBERT
Poor Robert is crazy, his hair is turn'd gray,?His beard has grown long, and hangs down to his breast;?Misfortune has taken his reason away,?His heart has no comfort, his head has no rest.
Poor man, it would please me to soften thy woes,?To soothe thy affliction, and yield thee support;?But see through the village, wherever he goes,?The cruel boys follow, and turn him to sport.
'Tis grievous to sue how the pitiless mob?Run round him and mimic his mournful complaint,
[Illustration: Poor Crazy Robert.]
And try to provoke him, and call him old Bob,?And hunt him about till he's ready to faint.
But ah! wicked children, I fear they forget?That God does their cruel diversion behold;?And that in his book dreadful curses are writ,?For those who shall mock at the poor and the old.
Poor Robert, thy troubles will shortly be o'er,?Forget in the grave thy misfortunes will be;?But God will his vengeance assuredly pour?On those wicked children who persecute thee.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The Pet Lamb.]
THE PET LAMB.
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.
No other sheep 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 Lethwaite, 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.
Towards the Lamb she looked; and from that?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 woolen?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.
Rest little young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day?When my father found thee first in places far away;?Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned?by none,?And thy mother from thy side forevermore was?gone.
[Illustration]
He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee?home!?A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou?roam??A faithful nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee?yearn?Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have?been.
Thou knowest that twice a day I brought thee in?this can?Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever?ran;?And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with?dew,?I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and?new.
Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they?are now;?Then I'll yoke thee to my cart, like a pony in the?plough;
My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is?cold?Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy?fold.
[Illustration]
It will not, will not rest! poor creature, can it be?That 'tis thy mother's heart which is working so in?thee??Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear,?And dreams of things which thou canst neither see?nor hear.
Alas, the mountain tops that look so green