For the hold was so firm, so strong was the grasp,
In vain did he strive to get free from the clasp,
In vain did the poor boy call out!

O doleful and sad was the scene which ensued,
For the tide was fast gaining the shore;
And stormy and dark look'd the clouds of the

night,

And piteous, most piteous, was poor Robert's plight,

And dismal indeed was his roar!

He struggled, and twisted, but still did the crab— Nasty thing-keep him fast by the hand!

"O, what will become of me?" poor Robert cried, "I'll be drown'd! I'll be drown'd! for, O look, the tide

Entirely has cover'd the strand!"

And now did the sea, with its breakers and foam, Dash over the cavern so high!

And now did the tempest blow fiercely and loud, Presenting poor Robert his coffin and shroud, And mingling, alas! with his cry.

And now did the tide approach high water-mark! And swiftly its waves it pour'd in!

And now did it flow fast quite close to his feet, While the very next moment, Oh! horror complete!

It approach'd to his neck and his chin!

30

THE MERRY LITTLE GROUP.

"O father! O mother! Maria, or John!

O, is there no being to save?

Oh, I'm off! Oh, I'm drown'd! Oh, I'm off! Oh, I'm dead!"

Alas! the dark tide had now clos'd o'er his head, And Robert was drown'd in the wave!

THE MERRY LITTLE GROUP.

MAKE ready! huzza!

To the wild woods away!

Mamma, kind mamma, gives us leave to go play!

Our tasks are all o'er,

For this day no more

O'er books, or o'er maps, or o'er writing we'll pore.

Just think!-we've got leave

To go to the cave,

To pick the nice white shells thrown in by the wave!

And then in a freak

Our baskets we'll take,

To bring home the rushes that float on the lake.

And then up the hill,

Near Barrington's Mill,

We'll make seas and ponds of the dear little rill.

And houses and lands

We'll build with our hands,

Without brick, or timber, or lime, in the sands.

And then to the nest

Of Robin Redbreast;

But first we must vow not to ruffle her nest.

And then will we play

At high gates so gay,

With trip about, skip about, hie, boys, huzza!

We'll caper and sing,

And dance in a ring,

While care to the winds and the waves let us fling.

Come, Fanny and John,

We'll trip it along,

And call on sweet echo to join in our song.

With frolic and glee,

As gay as can be,

We'll merrily dance round the sycamore tree.

Come, Lucy and Joe,

Square the heel, point the toe,

And then back again the left leg lightly throw.

Here, set now to Fan,

Then turn Mary-Anne,

Then spring back again to the place you began.

32

A LITTLE BOY TO HIS SISTER.

That's done very well,

Come, Harriet and Bell,

That's just now the posture of Monsieur Du Fell.

Come, hasten, my boy,

No care shall annoy,

And we'll bind round our brows the gay garland of joy.

LINES

Addressed by a little Boy to his Sister, who was sleeping too long in the Morning.

FOR shame, sister, rise!

For shame, ope thine eyes!

Sunbeams have been dancing this hour in the skies!

The lambs are at play,

Parading away,

Enjoying the sun since the dawn of the day.

The goat gaily skips,

O'er the mountain it trips,

And then the clear wave of the lake now it sips.

The fisherman's song,

While sailing along,

Hark! hark! how it sounds the wild echoes among.

The blackbird has filed

From its snug leafy bed,

And is warbling this moment just over our head.

And hark! sister, hark!

'Tis the dear little lark,

Who is chanting her sweet notes abroad in the park.

The streams, how they gush,
Then run by the bush,

Presenting sweet draughts to the goldfinch and

thrush.

The roses so bright,

And the lily so white,

Are dried by the sun from the dews of the night.

The lark, how it flies,

And here sister lies,

With drowsiness over her sleepy blue eyes!

Dear Lucy so gay,

Have you no prayers to say?

And are there no tasks to be got for the day?

How can you lie there,

In a morning so fair?

O, see through your curtain the sunbeams' bright

glare!