LITTLE BLUE PIGEON

LEEP, little pigeon, and fold your wings-
Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes;

Sleep to the singing of mother-bird swinging—
Swinging the nest where her little one lies.

Away out yonder I see a star

Silvery star with a tinkling song;

To the soft dew falling I hear it calling-
Calling and tinkling the night along.

In through the window a moonbeam comes— Little gold moonbeam with misty wings; All silently creeping, it asks: “Is he sleepingSleeping and dreaming while mother sings ?”

But sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings-
Little blue pigeon with mournful eyes;
Am I not singing?-see, I am swinging-

Swinging the nest where my darling lies.

THE LYTTEL BOY

OME time there ben a lyttel boy

That wolde not renne and play,

And helpless like that little tyke

Ben allwais in the way.

"Goe, make you merrie with the rest," His weary moder cried;

But with a frown he catcht her gown And hong untill her side.

That boy did love his moder well,
Which spake him faire, I ween;
He loved to stand and hold her hand
And ken her with his een;

His cosset bleated in the croft,

His toys unheeded lay,—

He wolde not goe, but, tarrying soe, Ben allwais in the way.

THE LYTTEL BOY

Godde loveth children and doth gird
His throne with soche as these,

And he doth smile in plaisaunce while
They cluster at his knees;

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And some time, when he looked on earth And watched the bairns at play,

He kenned with joy a lyttel boy

Ben allwais in the way.

And then a moder felt her heart

How that it ben to-torne,

She kissed eche day till she ben gray
The shoon he use to worn;
No bairn let hold untill her gown
Nor played upon the floore,—
Godde's was the joy; a lyttel boy
Ben in the way no more!

E

TEENY-WEENY

VERY evening, after tea,

Teeny-Weeny comes to me, And, astride my willing knee,

Plies his lash and rides away; Though that palfrey, all too spare Finds his burden hard to bear, Teeny-Weeny does n't care;

He commands, and I obey!

First it 's trot, and gallop then;
Now it's back to trot again;
Teeny-Weeny likes it when

He is riding fierce and fast.
Then his dark eyes brighter grow
And his cheeks are all aglow:
"More!" he cries, and never "Whoa!"

Till the horse breaks down at last.