THE WIND IN A FROLIC.

THE wind one morning sprang up from sleep,
Saying, "Now for a frolic! now for a leap!
Now for a mad-cap galloping chase!
I'll make a commotion in every place!"

So it swept with a bustle right through a great town,
Cracking the signs and scattering down

Shutters; and whisking, with merciless squalls,
Old women's bonnets and gingerbread stalls.
There never was heard a much lustier shout,
As the apples and oranges trundled about;
And the urchins that stand with their thievish eyes
For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize.

Then away to the field it went, blustering and humming,
And the cattle all wonder'd whatever was coming;
It pluck'd by the tails the grave matronly cows,
And toss'd the colts' manes all over their brows;
Till, offended at such an unusual salute,

They all turn'd their backs, and stood sulky and mute.

So on it went capering and playing its pranks,
Whistling with reeds on the broad river's banks,
Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray,
Or the traveller grave on the king's highway.
It was not too nice to hustle the bags
Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags;

'Twas so bold, that it fear'd not to play its joke
With the doctor's wig or the gentleman's cloak.
Through the forest it roar'd, and cried gaily, "Now,
You sturdy old oaks, I'll make you bow!"

And it made them bow without more ado,

Or it crack'd their great branches through and through. Then it rush'd like a monster on cottage and farm, Striking their dwellings with sudden alarm;

And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm:

There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their

caps,

To see if their poultry were free from mishaps;
The turkeys they gobbled, the geese scream'd aloud,
And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd;
There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on,
Where the thatch from the roof threaten'd soon to be

gone.

But the wind had swept on, and had met in a lane With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain ; For it toss'd him, and twirl'd him, then pass'd, and he stood

With his hat in a pool, and his shoes in the mud.

Then away went the wind in its holiday glee,
And now it was far on the billowy sea,
And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow,
And the little boats darted to and fro.
But lo! it was night, and it sank to rest
On the sea-bird's rock in the gleaming west,
Laughing to think, in its fearful fun,
How little of mischief it had done.

WE ARE SEVEN.

A SIMPLE Child,

That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:

curl

She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a
That cluster'd round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad :

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
-Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?"

"How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering look'd at me.

"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

Two of us in the churchyard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the churchyard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven!-I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this
may be."

Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree."

"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the churchyard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may be seen,'
The little Maid replied,

"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.

My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem ;

And there upon the ground I sit—
I sit and sing to them.

And often after sun-set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain

And then she went away.

So in the churchyard she was laid;
And when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we play'd,
My brother John and I.

And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side."