I see your surprise—but I know him full well,
And have numbered his victims as fading they fell;
He blighted twin violets that under him lay,
And poison'd a sister of mine the same day."
The Primrose was silent; the Harebell, 'tis said,
Inclined for a moment her beautiful head,
But quickly recover'd her spirits, and then
Declared that she ne'er would feel envy again.
36. The Woodcutter's Evening Song.
Welcome, red and roundy sun,
Dropping lowly in the west,
Now my hard day's work is done,
I'm as happy as the best.
Though to leave your pretty song,
Little birds, it gives me pain,
Tet to-morrow is not long,
Then I'm with you all again.
If I stop and stand about,
Well I know how things will be;
They will all be looking out,
Watching anxiously for me.
Fare ye well and hold your tongues,
Sing no more till next I come;
They're not worthy of your songs
That never care to drop a crumb.
All day long I love the oaks;
But at night yon little cot,
Where I see the chimney smokes,
