My child! they gave thee to another,
A woman who was not thy mother.
When from my arms my babe they took,
On me how strangely did he look!
Through his whole body something ran,
A most strange something did I see;
-As if he strove to be a man,

That he might pull the sledge for me..
And then he stretched his arms, how wild!
Oh mercy! like a little child.

My little joy! my little pride!

In two days more I must have died.
Then do not weep and grieve for me;
I feel I must have died with thee.
Oh wind that o'er my head art flying, q
The way my friends their course did bend,
I should not feel the pain of dying,

Could I with thee a message send.
Too soon, my friends, you went away ;
For I had many things to say.

I'll follow you across the snow,

You travel heavily and slow:
In spite of all my weary pain,
I'll look upon your tents again.
My fire is dead, and snowy white
The water which beside it stood;
The wolf has come to me to-night,
And he has stolen away my food.

For ever left alone am I,

Then wherefore should I fear to die

My journey will be shortly run,

I shall not see another sun,

I cannot lift my limbs to know

If they have any life or no.

For once could have thee close to me,

With happy heart I then should die, And my last thoughts would happy be. I feel my body die away,

I shall not see another day.

THE

LAST OF THE FLOCK.

In distant countries I have been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full grown,
Weep in the public roads alone.
But such a one, on English ground,
And in the broad high-way, I met;
Along the broad high-way he came,
His cheeks with tears were wet.
Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad ;
And in his arms a lamb he had.

He saw me, and he turned aside,

As if he wished himself to hide :

Then with his coat he made essay
To wipe those briny tears away.

I follow'd him, and said, "My friend
"What ails you? wherefore weep you so ?"

"Shame on me, Sir! this lusty lamb,

He makes my tears to flow.

To-day I fetched him from the rock;

He is the last of all my flock.

When I was young, a single man,

And after youthful follies ran,

Though little given to care and thought,

Yet, so it was, a ewe I bought;

And other sheep from her I raised,

As healthy sheep as you might see,

And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;

Of sheep I numbered a full score,

And every year increas'd my store.

Year after year my

stock it grew,

And from this one, this single ewe,
Full fifty comely sheep I raised,

As sweet a flock as ever grazed!

Upon the mountain did they feed;
They throve, and we at home did thrive..

-This lusty lamb of all my store

Is all that is alive;

And now I care not if we die,

And perish all of poverty.

Six children, Sir! had I to feed,
Hard labour in a time of need!

My pride was tamed, and in our grief,
I of the parish ask'd relief.

They said I was a wealthy man;

My sheep upon the mountain fed,

And it was fit that thence I took

Whereof to buy us bread:"

"Do this; how can we give to you,"

They cried," what to the poor is due ?"

B