. Original poems, for infant minds . and roard, While from his wound the crimson bloodIn dreadful torrents pourd. The maids came running, frightend muchTo see him hanging there, FOR INFANT MIKD3. 90 And soon they took him from the hook,And sat him in a chair. The surgeon came and stoppd the blood, And up he bound his head;And then they carryd him up stairs, And laid him on his bed. Conviction darted on his mind, As groaning there he lay ;He with remorse and horror thought Upon his cruel play. And oh, said he, poor little fish, What tortures they have borne ;While I, well pleasd, have stood to
. Original poems, for infant minds . and roard, While from his wound the crimson bloodIn dreadful torrents pourd. The maids came running, frightend muchTo see him hanging there, FOR INFANT MIKD3. 90 And soon they took him from the hook,And sat him in a chair. The surgeon came and stoppd the blood, And up he bound his head;And then they carryd him up stairs, And laid him on his bed. Conviction darted on his mind, As groaning there he lay ;He with remorse and horror thought Upon his cruel play. And oh, said he, poor little fish, What tortures they have borne ;While I, well pleasd, have stood to see Their tender bodies torn ! 0, what a wicked boy Ive been, Such torments to bestow ;Well I deserve the pain I feel, Since I could serve them so! But now I know how great the smart, How terrible the pain!As long as I can feel myself, Ill never fish again. OLD AGE. WHO is this that comes tottring along ? His footsteps are feeble and slow,His beard is grown curling and long, And his head turnd white as the * 10 ORIGINAL POEMS,. His dim eye is sunk in his head, And wrinkles deep furrow his brow ; Animation and vigour are fled,And yield to infirmity now. Little strangers, his name is Old Age,His journey will shortly be oer, He soon will leave lifes busy stage,To be torn by affliction no more. Little strangers ! though healthy and strong You now all adversity brave,Like him you must totter ere long, Like him you must sink to the grave. Those limbs that so actively play, That face beaming pleasure and mirth, Likehis must drop into decay,And moulder away in the earth. Then ere that dark season of nightWhen youth and its energies cease, 0 ! follow with zeal and delight,Those paths that are pleasure and peace. FOR INFANT MINDS. 31 So triumph and hope shall be nigh,When failing and fainting your breath Twil light a bright spark in your eye,As it closes for ever in death.
Size: 1871px × 1335px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1830, bookidoriginalpoem, bookyear1834
