Poems for Children Sigourney/Little Girl two years old, to a little Boy on his removal to New-York
Little Girl two years old, to a little Boy on his removal to New-York.
You go, I'm told,
This winter cold,
A journey, sir,
Pray shun the blast,
And travel fast,
Wrap'd close in fur.
I'm sorry too,
To part with you,
Your courteous care
At infant school,
Next summer cool,
I hop'd to share.
My wish to go,
I do not know
But they'll refuse,
Is it not shame
My age should claim
No right to choose?
Twice has the sphere
Roll'd round the year,
Since I saw light;
Yet all my skill
To have my will.
Has fail'd outright.
I marvel why
You wish to try
A city life;
Pleas'd as you were
With rural care,
And free from strife.
Manners and men
You'd better ken
Among the throng;
But the young breast
Is nurtur'd best
Mid Nature's song.
I've heard that those
Who pass for beaux,
In lofty stations,
Oft treat with scorn
Friends country-born,
And poor relations.
Don't patronize
Thing's so unwise,—
But should I come
Don't turn away,—
And bid them say
You're not at home:
No, don't forget
How oft we've met
In Nurse's arms,
When glad and free,
You crow'd at me,
And prais'd my charms.