'The man your eye pursued. A little after you had parted with him, He suddenly dropt dead of heart-disease.' 'Dead? he? of heart-disease? what heart had he To die of? dead!' 'Ah, dearest, if there be A devil in man, there is an angel too, And if he did that wrong you charge him with, His angel broke his heart. But your rough voice (You spoke so loud) has roused the child again. Sleep, little birdie, sleep! will she not sleep Without her "little birdie?" well then, sleep, And I will sing you "birdie."' Saying this, The woman half turn'd round from him she loved, Left him one hand, and reaching thro' the night Her other, found (for it was close beside) And half embraced the basket cradle-head With one soft arm, which, like the pliant bough That moving moves the nest and nestling, sway'd The cradle, while she sang this baby song. What does the little birdie say In her nest at peep of day? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day? Baby says, like little birdie, Let me rise and fly away. Baby, sleep a little longer, Till the little limbs are stronger. If she sleeps a little longer, Baby too shall fly away. 'She sleeps: let us too, let all evil, sleep. He also sleeps--another sleep than ours. He can do no more wrong: forgive him, dear, And I shall sleep the sounder!' Then the man, 'His deeds yet live, the worst is yet to come. Yet let your sleep for this one night be sound: I do forgive him!' 'Thanks, my love,' she said, 'Your own will be the sweeter,' and they slept. THE GRANDMOTHER. THE GRANDMOTHER. -------<>------- I. And Willy, my eldest-born, is gone, you say, little Anne? Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man. And Willy's wife has written: she never was over-wise, Never the wife for Willy: he would n't take my advice. II. For, Annie, you see, her father was not the man to save, Had n't a head to manage, and drank himself into his grave. Pretty enough, very pretty! but I was against it for one. Eh!--but he would n't hear me--and Willy, you say, is gone.