Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/128

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THE CHILDREN'S CHOICE.
Louisa.
I mean to be a cottage girl, And sit behind a rill,And morn and eve my pitcher there With purest water fill;And I'll train a lovely woodbine Around my cottage door,And welcome to my winter hearth The wandering and the poor.
Mother.
Louisa, dear, a humble mind 'Tis beautiful to see,And you shall never hear a word To check that mind from me;But, ah! remember, pride may dwell Beneath the woodbine shade;And discontent, a sullen guest, The cottage hearth invade.
Caroline.
I will be gay and courtly, And dance away the hours;Music, and sport, and joy shall dwell Beneath my fairy bowers;No heart shall ache with sadness Within my laughing hall,But the note of joy and gladness Re-echo to my call.
Mother.
O children! sad it makes my soul To hear your playful strain;I cannot bear to chill your heart With images of pain.Yet humbly take what God bestows, And like his own fair flowers,Look up in sunshine with a smile, And gently bend in showers.
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