‘Get up!’ the caller calls, ‘Get up!’
And in the dead of night,
To win the bairns their bite and sup,
I rise a weary wight.

My flannel dudden donn'd, thrice o'er
My birds are kiss'd, and then
I with a whistle shut the door,
I may not ope again.

" Get me that bright moon! " the child cries

The Germans, in Greek,
Are sadly to seek;
Not five in five score,
But ninety-five more,--
All, save only Hermann,
And Hermann's a German.

George the First was always reckoned
Vile, but viler George the Second;
And what mortal ever heard
Any good of George the Third?
When from earth the Fourth descended
(God be praised!) the Georges ended.

George Collins came home last Saturday night,
He was taken down sick an' died;
His true love was in the next room door,
Sewing her silk so fine.

When she heard George Collins was dead,
She laid her silks aside,
She got down on her bended knees,
She wept, she mourned, she cried.

"Oh, Mary, oh, Mary, get up from there,
Why do you weep an' mourn?
For there are other young men around,
To see you weep and mourn."

"Mother, oh, Mother, I know there are
Other young men aroun'.
I'll follow George Collins by night and by day,

A gentleman in hunting rode astray,
More out of choice than that he lost his way.
He let his company the hare pursue,
For he himself had other game in view:
A beggar by her trade; yet not so mean
But that her cheeks were fresh and linen clean.
" Mistress," quoth he, " and what if we two should
Retire a little way into the wood?"
She needed not much courtship to be kind,
He ambles on before, she trots behind;
For little Bobby, to her shoulders bound,
Hinders the gentle dame from ridding ground.
He often asked her to expose, but she

A gentle wind after the rain stirred,
the grass thickets still wet with dewdrops, the cobweb shining like a rosary;
in the sky to the east hung a slow rainbow,
and we stood, silent. Silent!

Ah everything remains the same. You were then
looking up at me. Because I had nothing to do.
(Though I loved you)
(Though you loved me)

Again a wind blows, again a cloud moves.
In the bright, blue, hot sky, as if nothing had happened,
birds' songs echo, the colors of flowers are fragrant.

Gentle river, gentle river,
Lo, thy streams are stained with gore.
Many a brave and noble captain
Floats along thy willowed shore.

All beside thy limpid waters,
All beside thy sands so bright,
Moorish chiefs and Christian warriors
Joined in fierce and mortal fight.

Lords and dukes and noble princes
On thy fatal banks were slain;
Fatal banks that gave to slaughter
All the pride and flower of Spain.

There the hero, brave Alonso,
Full of wounds and glory died;
There the fearless Urdiales
Fell a victim by his side.

(The Kitten Speaks)

The gentle milk jug blue and white
I love with all my soul;
She pours herself with all her might
To fill my breakfast bowl.

All day she sits upon the shelf,
She does not jump or climb—
She only waits to pour herself
When 'tis my supper-time.

And when the Jug is empty quite,
I shall not mew in vain,
The Friendly Cow, all red and white,
Will fill her up again.

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
Look upon a little child;
Pity my simplicity,
Suffer me to come to thee.

Fain I would to thee be brought,
Dearest God, forbid it not;
Give me, dearest God, a place
In the kingdom of thy grace.

Put thy hands upon my head,
Let me in thine arms be stayed,
Let me lean upon thy breast,
Lull me, lull me, Lord, to rest.

Hold me fast in thine embrace,
Let me see thy smiling face,
Give me, Lord, thy blessing give,
Pray for me, and I shall live.

Lamb of God, I look to thee,