And senseless too, for mistress Fate Is not the gloomy reprobate That mouldy sages thought her; My heart leaps up, and I rejoice As falls upon my ear thy voice, My frisky little daughter. Come hither, Pussy, perch on these Thy most unworthy father's knees, And tell him all about it: Are dolls but bran? Can men be base? When gazing on thy blessed face I'm quite prepared to doubt it. O, mayst thou own, my winsome elf, Some day a pet just like thyself, Her sanguine thoughts to borrow; Content to use her brighter eyes,-- Accept her childish ecstacies,-- If need be, share her sorrow! The wisdom of thy prattle cheers This heart; and when outworn in years And homeward I am starting, My Darling, lead me gently down To Life's dim strand: the dark waves frown, But weep not for our parting. Though Life is called a doleful jaunt, In sorrow rife, in sunshine scant, Though earthly joys, the wisest grant, Have no enduring basis; 'Tis something in a desert sere, For her so fresh--for me so drear, To find in Puss, my daughter dear, A little cool oasis! APRIL, 1857. THE WIDOW'S MITE. The Widow had but only one, A puny and decrepit son; Yet, day and night, Though fretful oft, and weak, and small, A loving child, he was her all-- The Widow's Mite. The Widow's might,--yes! so sustained, She battled onward, nor complained When friends were fewer: And, cheerful at her daily care, A little crutch upon the stair Was music to her. I saw her then,--and now I see, Though cheerful and resigned, still she Has sorrowed much: She has--HE gave it tenderly-- Much faith--and, carefully laid by, A little crutch. ON AN OLD MUFF Time has a magic wand! What is this meets my hand, Moth-eaten, mouldy, and Covered with fluff? Faded, and stiff, and scant; Can it be? no, it can't-- Yes,--I declare 'tis Aunt Prudence's Muff! Years ago--twenty-three! Old Uncle Barnaby Gave it to Aunty P.-- Laughing and teasing-- "Pru., of the breezy curls, Whisper these solemn churls, _What holds a pretty girl's Hand without squeezing?_" Uncle was then a lad Gay, but, I grieve to add, Sinful: if smoking bad _Baccy's_ a vice: Glossy was then this mink Muff, lined with pretty pink Satin, which maidens think "Awfully nice!" I see, in retrospect, Aunt, in her best bedecked, Gliding, with mien erect, Gravely to Meeting: Psalm-book, and kerchief new, Peeped from the muff of Pru.-- Young men--and pious too-- Giving her greeting.