When all her love will be forgot,

And he a wretch like me?

She in her grave at rest may lie,
And daisies speck the sod,
Nor see him bleed, nor hear him cry,
Beneath a ruffian's rod.

No mother's lap was then my bed,
O'er me no mother smiled;
No mother's arm went round my head,
-Am I no mother's child?

Life, on a sudden, ran me through,
Light, light, all round me blazed,
Red flames rush'd roaring up the flue,
-Flames by my master raised.

I heard his voice, and ten-fold might
Bolted through every limb;
I saw his face, and shot upright;
Brick walls made way from him.

Swift as a squirrel seeks the bough
Where he may turn and look

Down on the school-boy, chop-fallen now,
My ready flight I took.

The fire was quickly quench'd beneath,

Blue light above me glanced,
And air, sweet air, I 'gan to breathe,
The blood within me danced.

I climb'd, and climb'd, and climb'd away,
Till on the top I stood,

And saw the glorious dawn of day

Come down on field and flood.

Oh, me! a moment of such joy
I never knew before;

Right happy was the climbing-boy,

Sick, sick I turn'd, the world ran round,
The stone I stood on broke,
And plumb I toppled to the ground,
-Like a scared owl, I woke.

I woke, but slept again, and dream'd
The self-same things anew:

The storm, the snow, the building seem'd
All true, as daylight's true.

But, when I tumbled from the top,

The world itself had flown;

There was no ground on which to drop,
'Twas emptiness alone.

On winter nights I've seen a star
Leap headlong from the sky;
I've watch'd the lightning from afar
Flash out of heaven and die.

So, but in darkness, so I fell
Through nothing to no place,
Until I saw the flames of hell
Shoot upward to my face.

Down, down, as with a mill-stone weight,
I plunged right through their smoke!
To cry for mercy 'twas too late,-
They seized me,-I awoke :

Woke, slept, and dream'd the like again
The third time, through and through,
Except the winding up;-ah! then
I wish it had been true.

For when I climb'd into the air,

Spring-breezes flapt me round;

Green hills, and dales, and woods were there,

And May-flowers on the ground.

The moon was waning in the west,
The clouds were golden red;

The lark, a mile above his nest,
Was cheering o'er my head.

The stars had vanish'd, all but one,
The darling of the sky,
That glitter'd like a tiny sun,
No bigger than my eye.

I look'd at this,-I thought it smiled,
Which made me feel so glad,
That I became another child,
And not the climbing lad:

A child as fair as you may see,
Whom soot has never soil'd
As rosy-cheek'd as I might be
If I had not been spoil'd.

Wings, of themselves, about me grew,

And, free as morning-light,

Up to that single star I flew,

So beautiful and bright.

Through the blue heaven I stretch'd my hand
To touch its beams,-it broke

Like a sea-bubble on the sand;
Then all fell dark.-I woke.

NO. III.-EASTER-MONDAY AT SHEFFIELD.

YES, there are some that think of me;
The blessing on their heads! I say;
May all their lives as happy be,

As mine has been with them to-day!
When I was sold, from Lincolnshire

To this good town, I heard a noise, What merry-making would be here At Easter-tide, for climbing boys.

'Twas strange, because where I had been,
The better people cared no more
For such as me, than had they seen
A young crab crawling on their shore.

Well, Easter came ;-in all the land
Was e'er a 'prentice lad so fine!
A bran-new suit at second-hand,

Cap, shoes, and stockings, all were mine.

The coat was green, the waistcoat red,
The breeches leather, white and clean;

I thought I must go off my head,

I could have jump'd out of my skin.

All Sunday through the streets I stroll'd,
Fierce as a turkey-cock, to see
How all the people, young and old,

At least I thought so, look'd at me.

At night, upon my truss of straw,

Those gaudy clothes hung round the room; By moon-glimpse oft their shapes I saw

Like bits of rainbow in the gloom.

Yet scarce I heeded them at all,
Although I never slept a wink;
The feast, next day, at Cutlers' Hall,
Of that I could not help but think.
Wearily trail'd the night away;
Between the watchman and the clock,

I thought it never would be day;
At length out-crew the earliest cock.

A second answer'd, then a third,

At a long distance,-one, two, three,

A dozen more in turn were heard;
-I crew among the rest for glee.

Up gat we, I and little Bill,

And donn'd our newest and our best;

Nay, let the proud say what they will,
As grand as fiddlers we were drest.
We left our litter in the nook,

And wash'd ourselves as white as snow;
On brush and bag we scorn'd to look,
-It was a holiday, you know.

What ail'd me then I could not tell,

I yawn'd the whole forenoon away, And hearken'd while the vicar's bell

Went ding dong, ding dong, pay, pay, pay! The clock struck twelve-I love the twelves Of all the hours 'twixt sun and moon; For then poor lads enjoy themselves, -We sleep at midnight, rest at noon.

This noon was not a resting time!

At the first stroke we started all,

And, while the tune rang through the chime,
Muster'd, like soldiers, at the hall.

Not much like soldiers in our gait;
Yet never soldier, in his life,

Tried, as he march'd, to look more straight
Than Bill and I,-to drum and fife.

But now I think on't, what with scars,
Lank, bony limbs, and spavin'd feet,

Like broken soldiers from the wars,

We limp'd, yet strutted through the street.

Then, while our meagre, motley crew
Came from all quarters of the town,
Folks to their doors and windows flew ;
I thought the world turn'd upside down.

For now, instead of oaths and jeers,

The sauce that I have found elsewhere, Kind words, and smiles, and hearty cheers Met us, with halfpence here and there.