If they do peck our peaches, and sometimes devour
A cherry ripe, ruddy, and sweet,
Remember the songs they so lavishly pour,
And you'll own that they merit the treat.
We call the fruit ours—but for my part I feel,
By the instinct God gave they are led,
And 'tis cruel to say that the pretty things steal,
When they all have a right to be fed.
The laws that to us the great Being has given,
Do not the brute creatures control:
These have not been promised a future in Heaven,
Nor told of an undying soul.
They have but the Present-a good reason too,
We should not abuse them you know;
They feel cold and hunger the same just as you,
And shrink from the pain of a blow:
And then they're so grateful when kindness is shown,
So loving to those who caress-
Oh, brother, how hard must a young heart have grown That derides a dumb creature's distress!
How strange is the instinct that never goes wrong,
Which is given to each at its birth!
An instinct that wise men have reckoned among
The marvellous things of the earth.
Look at Puss with her kittens-at Rob in his nest
They always know just what is right;
They always do that which is fittest and best,
And seem in their task to delight.
Poor Rover! Good Dog! how I wish you could tell
What it is that you do understand:
But of this I am sure, that you love us both well,
As you say by a lick of my hand.
And a wag of the tail means, "Thank you, I'm glad;"
And "bow-wow" a true promise gives
Of protection: Oh, brother, indeed it were sad
To hurt any creature that lives!
THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD.
Now ponder well, you parents dear,
The words which I shall write,
A doleful story you shall hear
In time brought forth to light:
A gentleman of good account
In Norfolk lived of late,
Whose wealth and riches did surmount
Most men of his estate.
Sore sick he was, and like to die,
No help that he could have;
His wife by him as sick did lie;
And both possess one grave.
No love between these two was lost,
Each was to other kind:
In love they lived, in love they died,
And left two babes behind:
The one a fine and pretty boy,
Not passing three years old;
The other a girl more young than he,
And made in Beauty's mould.
The father left his little son,
As plainly doth appear,
When he to perfect age should come,
Three hundred pounds a year;
And to his little daughter Jane,
Five hundred pounds in gold,
To be paid down on marriage-day,
Which might not be controlled;
But if the children chanced to die,
Ere they to age should come,
Their uncle should possess their wealth,
For so the will did run.
"Now, brother," said the dying man,
"Look on my children dear,
Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friend else have I here:
To God and you I do commend
My children night and day;
But little while, be sure, we have
Within this world to stay.
You must be father and mother both,
And uncle all in one,
God knows what will become of them
When I am dead and gone."
With that bespake their mother dear;
"Oh brother kind," quoth she,
"You are the man must bring our babes
To wealth or misery.
And if you keep them carefully,
Then God will you reward;
If otherwise you seem to deal,
God will your deeds regard."
With lips as cold as any stone
She kissed her children small,
"God bless you both, my children dear;" With that the tears did fall.
These speeches then their brother spoke
To this sick couple there-
"The keeping of your children dear,
Sweet sister, do not fear;
God never prosper me or mine,
Nor aught else that I have,
If I do wrong your children dear
When you are laid in grave!"
Their parents being dead and gone,
The children home he takes,
And brings them both into his house,
And much of them he makes.
He had not kept these pretty babes
A twelvemonth and a day,
When for their wealth he did devise
To make them both away.
He bargained with two ruffians rude,
Which were of furious mood,
That they should take the children young,
And slay them in the wood.
He told his wife and all he had,
He did the children send
To be brought up to London fair,
With one that was his friend.
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