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'Twas evening, and the frozen streets
Were cheerless to behold;
And we were wrapt and coated well,
And yet we were a-cold.

We met an old bare-headed man,
His locks were few and white,
I ask'd him what he did abroad
In that cold winter's night.

"Twas bitter keen, indeed, he said,
But at home no fire had he,
And therefore he had come abroad
To ask for charity.

We met a young bare-footed child,

And she begg'd loud and bold, I ask'd her what she did abroad When the wind it blew so cold.

She said, her father was at home,
And he lay sick in bed;

And therefore was it she was sent
Abroad to beg for bread.

We saw a woman sitting down
Upon a stone to rest;
She had a baby at her back,
And another at her breast.

I ask'd her why she loiter'd there,
When the wind it was so chill:
She turn'd her head, and bade the child
That scream'd behind, be still.

She told us that her husband served,
A soldier, far away;
And therefore to her parish, she'
Was begging back her way.

I turn'd me to the rich man then,
For silently stood he:

You ask'd me why the poor complain,
And these have answer'd thee.

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My pretty baby-brother
Is six months old to-day;
And, though he cannot speak,
He knows whate'er I say.
Whenever I come near,

He crows for very joy;
And dearly do I love him,
The darling baby-boy.

My brother's cheek is blooming,
And his bright laughing eyes
Are like the pure spring violets,

Or the summer cloudless skies.
His mouth is like a rosebud,

So delicate and red;
And his hair is soft as silk,

And curls all round his head.

When he laughs, upon his face

So many dimples play,
They seem like little sunbeams

Which o'er his features stray.
I am sure we all must love him,
He is so full of glee:
Just like a ray of sunshine
My brother is to me.

When in his pretty cradle
He lies in quiet sleep,
'Tis joy to be beside him,

A faithful watch to keep;
And when his sleep is over,

I love to see him lie,
And lift the silken fringes
That veil his sweet blue eye.

Oh! my dear, dear baby brother,
Our darling and our pet;
The very sweetest plaything
I ever have had yet.
The pretty little creature,

He grows so every day,
That, when the summer comes,
In the garden he will play.

How cunning he will look,
Among the grass and flowers!
No blossom is so fair

As this precious one of ours. Every night before I sleep,

When I kneel to say my prayer, I ask my heavenly Father, Of my brother to take care,


COME, my children, come away
For the sun shines bright to-day;
Little children, come with me,
Birds, and brooks, and posies see,
Get your hats and come away,
For it is a pleasant day.

See the lambkins sport and play,
On the meadows fresh and gay;
See the kitten full of fun,
Frisking in the shining sun;
Children too may run and play,
For it is a pleasant day.

Bring the hoop and bring the ball,
Come with happy faces all,

Let us make a merry ring,

Talk, and laugh, and dance, and sing
Quickly, quickly come away,
For it is a pleasant day.

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