They dart across my path, — but lo, Your Mother has had alms of mine." "That cannot be," one answered, “she is dead”:— I looked reproof, — they saw, — but neither hung his head. "She has been dead, Sir, many a day.”. “Hush, boys! you 're telling me a lie ; It was your Mother, as I say!" And, in the twinkling of an eye, "Come! come!” cried one, and, without more ado, Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew ! 1802. XIX. SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING. COMPOSED MANY YEARS AFTER. WHERE are they now, those wanton Boys? And implements of frolic mirth; More fresh, more bright, than princes wear; For what one moment flung aside, Another could repair: What good or evil have they seen They met me in a genial hour, Of discontent, and check the birth Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife, Since parting Innocence bequeathed Soft clouds, the whitest of the year, Sailed through the sky; the brooks ran clear; The thoughts with which it then was cheered; Kind Spirits! may we not believe Destined, whate'er their earthly doom, 1817. XX. GYPSIES. YET are they here, the same unbroken knot Only their fire seems bolder, yielding light, Their bed of straw and blanket-walls. Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours are gone, while I Have been a traveller under open sky, Much witnessing of change and cheer, The weary Sun betook himself to rest; Outshining like a visible God The glorious path in which he trod. Life which the very stars reprove, As on their silent tasks they move! Yet, witness all that stirs in heaven or earth! In scorn I speak not; they are what their birth And breeding suffer them to be; Wild outcasts of society! XXI. RUTH. WHEN Ruth was left half desolate, 1807. 1445 And she had made a pipe of sZTEM, Beneath her father's roof sitne She seemed to Eve: ber thoughts her own; Herself her own delights: Pleased with berself nor sad dar gay; And, passing thus the liveling day, She grew to woman's beight. There came a Youth from Georgia's shore,— A military casque he wore, With splendid feathers drest; He brought them from the Cherokees; The feathers nodded in the breeze, And made a gallant crest. From Indian blood you deem him sprung: And bore a soldier's name; And, when America was free From battle and from jeopardy, He 'cross the ocean came. With hues of genius on his cheek, |