Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/607

 MARY LAMB

1765-1847

511. A Child

A child's a plaything for an hour; Its pretty tricks we try For that or for a longer space— Then tire, and lay it by.

But I knew one that to itself All seasons could control; That would have mock'd the sense of pain Out of a grievèd soul.

Thou straggler into loving arms, Young climber-up of knees, When I forget thy thousand ways Then life and all shall cease.

CAROLINA, LADY NAIRNE

1766-1845

512. The Land o' the Leal

I'm wearin' awa', John Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John, I'm wearin' awa' To the land o' the leal. There's nae sorrow there, John, There's neither cauld nor care, John, The day is aye fair In the land o' the leal.

Our bonnie bairn's there, John, She was baith gude and fair, John; And O! we grudged her sair To the land o' the leal.