My Child! they gave thee to another,
A woman who was not thy mother.
When from my arms my Babe they took,
On me how strangely did he look!
Through his whole body something ran,
A most strange something did I see;
-As if he strove to be a man,

That he might pull the sledge for me.

And then he stretched his arms, how wild!

Oh mercy! like a little child.

My little joy! my little pride!

In two days more I must have died.
Then do not weep and grieve for me;

I feel I must have died with thee.

Oh wind, that o'er my head art flying
The way my Friends their course did bend,
I should not feel the pain of dying,
Could I with thee a message send !

Too soon, my Friends, you went away;
For I had many things to say.

I'll follow you across the snow;

You travel heavily and slow:
In spite of all my weary pain,

I'll look upon your tents again.
-My fire is dead, and snowy white
The water which beside it stood;
The wolf has come to me to-night,

And he has stolen away my food.

For ever left alone am I,

Then wherefore should I fear to die?

For once could have thee close to me,

With happy heart I then should die, And my last thoughts would happy be. I feel my body die away,

I shall not see another day.

LUCY GRAY.

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray :
And, when I cross'd the Wild,

I chanc'd to see at break of day

The solitary Child.

No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew ;

She dwelt on a wide Moor,

-The sweetest thing that ever grew

Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the Fawn at play,

The Hare upon the Green;

But the sweet face of Lucy Gray

Will never more be seen.

To-night will be a stormy night"You to the Town must go;

"And take a lantern, Child, to light

"Your Mother thro' the snow."

That, Father! will I gladly do;

""Tis scarcely afternoon

"The Minster-clock has just struck two,

"And yonder is the Moon."

At this the Father rais'd his hook

And snap'd a faggot-band;

He plied his work, and Lucy took

The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe:
With many a wanton stroke

Her feet disperse the powd'ry snow,
up like smoke.

That rises

The storm came on before its time:

She wander'd up and down;

And many a hill did Lucy climb,

But never reach'd the Town.

The wretched Parents all that night

Went shouting far and wide;

But there was neither sound nor sight

To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood

That overlook'd the Moor

;

And thence they saw the Bridge of wood,

A furlong from their door.

And now they homeward turn'd, and cry'd

"In Heaven we all shall meet!"

-When in the snow the Mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.