All seasons could controul;
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.

THE TWO BOYS

I saw a boy with eager eye
Open a book upon a stall,
And read as he'd devour it all:
Which when the stall-man did espy,
Soon to the boy I heard him call,
"You, Sir, you never buy a book,
Therefore in one you shall not look."
The boy pass'd slowly on, and with a sigh
He wish'd he never had been taught to read,
Then of the old churl's books he should have had no need.

Of sufferings the poor have many,
Which never can the rich annoy.
I soon perceiv'd another boy
Who look'd as if he'd not had any
Food for that day at least, enjoy
The sight of cold meat in a tavern larder.
This boy's case, thought I, is surely harder,
Thus hungry longing, thus without a penny,
Beholding choice of dainty dressed meat:
No wonder if he wish he ne'er had learn'd to eat.

THE OFFER

"Tell me, would you rather be
Chang'd by a fairy to the fine
Young orphan heiress Geraldine,
Or still be Emily?

"Consider, ere you answer me,
How many blessings are procur'd
By riches, and how much endur'd
By chilling poverty."

After a pause, said Emily:
"In the words orphan heiress I
Find many a solid reason why
I would not changed be.

"What though I live in poverty,
And have of sisters eight--so many,
That few indulgences, if any,
Fall to the share of me;

"Think you that for wealth I'd be
Of ev'n the least of them bereft,
Or lose my parent, and be left
An orphan'd Emily?

"Still should I be Emily,
Although I look'd like Geraldine;
I feel within this heart of mine
No change could worked be."

THE SISTER'S EXPOSTULATION ON THE BROTHER'S LEARNING LATIN

Shut these odious books up, brother--
They have made you quite another
Thing from what you us'd to be--
Once you lik'd to play with me--
Now you leave me all alone,
And are so conceited grown
With your Latin, you'll scarce look
Upon any English book.
We had us'd on winter eyes
To con over Shakespeare's leaves,
Or on Milton's harder sense
Exercise our diligence--
And you would explain with ease
The obscurer passages,
Find me out the prettiest places
The poetic turns, and g