MARY LAMB

fll. 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 grieved 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 /72. 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.

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