Poor Little Children
(“La femelle! elle est morte.”)
{Bk. I. xiii., Jersey, February, 1853.}
Mother birdie stiff and cold,
Puss has hushed the other’s singing;
Winds go whistling o’er the wold,—
Empty nest in sport a-flinging.
Poor little birdies!
Faithless shepherd strayed afar,
Playful dog the gadflies catching;
Wolves bound boldly o’er the bar,
Not a friend the fold is watching—
Poor little lambkins!
Father into prison fell,
Mother begging through the parish;
Baby’s cot they, too, will sell,—
Who will now feed, clothe and cherish?
Poor little children!