The Chearer Thou of our in-door sadness, He is the Friend of our summer gladness: What hinders, then, that ye should be Playmates in the sunny weather, And fly about in the air together? Like the hues of thy breast His beautiful wings in crimson are drest, A brother he seems of thine own: If thou would'st be happy in thy nest, 40 O pious Bird! whom Man loves best, Love him, or leave him alone! _THE SAILOR'S MOTHER_. * * * * * One morning (raw it was and wet, A foggy day in winter time) A Woman in the road I met, Not old, though something past her prime: Majestic in her person, tall and straight; And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait. The ancient Spirit is not dead; Old times, thought I, are breathing there; Proud was I that my country bred Such strength, a dignity so fair: 10 She begg'd an alms, like one in poor estate; I look'd at her again, nor did my pride abate. When from these lofty thoughts I woke, With the first word I had to spare I said to her, "Beneath your Cloak What's that which on your arm you bear?" She answer'd soon as she the question heard, "A simple burthen, Sir, a little Singing-bird." And, thus continuing, she said, "I had a Son, who many a day 20 Sail'd on the seas; but he is dead; In Denmark he was cast away; And I have been as far as Hull, to see What clothes he might have left, or other property." "The Bird and Cage they both were his; 'Twas my Son's Bird; and neat and trim He kept it: many voyages This Singing-bird hath gone with him; When last he sail'd he left the Bird behind; As it might be, perhaps, from bodings of his mind." 30 "He to a Fellow-lodger's care Had left it, to be watch'd and fed, Till he came back again; and there I found it when my Son was dead; And now, God help me for my little wit! I trail it with me, Sir! he took so much delight in it." _TO THE SMALL CELANDINE_ [Footnote: Common Pilewort.] * * * * * Pansies, Lilies, Kingcups, Daisies, Let them live upon their praises; Long as there's a sun that sets Primroses will have their glory; Long as there are Violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine. Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star; 10 Up and down the heavens they go, Men that keep a mighty rout! I'm as great as they, I trow, Since the day I found thee out, Little flower!--I'll make a stir Like a great Astronomer.