He made me love my books indeed; And who delighted heard me read Those tales he could recite with speed? My Brother. And when a present he had got, Oh! who was it that ne’er forgot To share with me his happy lot? My Brother. Then I do love thee very well, Yes, more than any words can tell; Thy name shall in my bosom dwell, My Brother. For well I know thee void of guile, When others frown’d thy soothing smile Would many a little woe beguile, My Brother. For thou wert always good and kind, And I could speak to thee my mind, Sweet solace from thy lips to find, My Brother. O may I live to see thee rise To man’s estate, revered and wise, To glad your friends’ delighted eyes, My Brother. May virtue be thy constant guest, And sweet contentment charm thy breast, And ev’ry gen’rous wish be blest, My Brother. MY SISTER. Who was it, when we both were young, First prais’d me with her artless tongue, And on my neck delighted hung? My Sister. For we would run about all day, And when at hide-and-seek we’d play, Who came to find me where I lay? My Sister. When I would read of Robin Hood, Or little Children in the Wood, Who was it call’d me kind and good? My Sister. And when one day (’twas wrong I know) I trod on grandpapa’s sore toe, Who strove to shelter me from woe? My Sister. For she would cry if I was beat, And if she got a dainty treat, Who gave me half of it to eat? My Sister. And when to school I went to stay, (For boys must learn, as well as play,) Who sobb’d to see me go away? My Sister. For it was ever our delight, To love each other day and night, Nor would I do a thing to spite My Sister. For naughty boys and girls, ’tis true, Would pinch each other black and blue; But they were not like me or you, My Sister. For thou wert always kind to me, And it will my ambition be, To prove a faithful friend to thee, My Sister. To guard from hurt thy tender frame, To shield thy love and spotless name, And be the champion of thy fame, My Sister. For well I know thou would’st disdain, To be, or haughty, pert, or vain, And good and modest wilt remain, My Sister. O! may it be thy precious choice, Our aged parents to rejoice, And soothe them with thy tender voice! My Sister.