'Twas evening, and the frozen streets Were cheerless to behold; And we were wrapt and coated well, We met an old bare-headed man, I ask'd him what he did abroad "Twas bitter keen, indeed, he said, We met a young bare-footed child, She said, her father was at home, We saw a woman sitting down Upon a stone to rest; She had a baby at her back, And another at her breast. I ask'd her why she loiter'd there, She turn'd her head, and bade the child She told us that her husband served, And therefore to her parish, she I turn'd me to the rich man then, You ask'd me why the poor complain, A YOUNG GIRL TO HER LITTLE BROTHER. My pretty baby-brother Is six months old to-day; He crows for very joy; My brother's cheek is blooming, So delicate and red; And his hair is soft as silk, And curls all round his head. When he laughs, upon his face When in his pretty cradle That veil his sweet blue eye. Oh! my dear, dear baby brother, How cunning he will look, No blossom is so fair As this precious one of ours. Every night before I sleep, When I kneel to say my prayer, I ask my heavenly Father, Of my brother to take care. WALKING SONG. COME, my children, come away Birds, and brooks, and posies see, See the lambkins sport and play, Frisking in the shining sun; For it is a pleasant day. Bring the hoop and bring the ball, Come with happy faces all, Let us make a merry ring, Talk, and laugh, and dance, and sing Quickly, quickly come away, |