3.

When thus your gathered crowns I see, Young queens of nature undefiled! Methinks your only throne should be The bosom of a little child.

4.

Yet breathe once more upon my sense; Ah, take my kiss your leaves among! Ye fill me with a bliss intense,

Ye stir my soul to humblest song.

5.

And not alone ye solace bring,

Sweet blossoms! to my present hour;

In every fairy cup and ring

I find a spell of memory's power.

6.

In every odorous breath I feel

That thus, in other spring-times gay,
The lips of flowers did all unseal,
To whisper gladness round my way.

7.

And there were friends with loving eyes, And cheerful step, and words of mirth, And there was heaven with smiling skies, That bade us look beyond the earth.

8.

Therefore my gentlest thanks I sing

To her who sent these tender flowers;

They to my present, solace bring,

And to my memory, vanished hours.

In the old town in which I live,

The event occurred of which I mean to speak; To know what town that is, ye need not seek ; No further information shall I give.

In this town is an annual fair,

Such as, I will be bound to say,

May not be met with everywhere.

Then all the people look extremely gay,

And all the children have a holiday:

Then there are cows, and sheep, and pigs to sell,

And more than I can tell;

And booths are ranged in rows,
Full of all sorts of pretty things,

Glass necklaces, and copper rings,

And pins, and gloves, and bracelets, combs, and boxes,
And then there are such quantities of shows,

All crammed with lions, elephants, and foxes!
And for the little people, dolls and balls,

Horses and coaches, whips and penny-trumpets :
And many different sorts of stalls,

Filled with sweet cakes, and ginger-bread, and

crumpets;

And then there is the learned pig,

And the great 'Mister Bigg,'

The famous English Patagonian;

And the gray pony that can dance so well;
And then there is the wee, wee man,

That in seven languages can read and spell,
Though scarcely bigger than a lady's fan;
And crowds of people staring in amaze,
And thronging twenty different ways,
And pushing you against the wall,

Till you can scarcely keep your legs at all.
Well, unto this same fair

There came, the night before,

A famous dancing bear,

And several monkeys on his back he bore ;

But with the monkeys we have nought to do—

The bear alone concerns our story.

Now as night's curtain had begun to drop,

And they had travelled far,

The master of the bear resolved to stop,

Just where the town lay stretching out before ye,

Until the morning, at the Golden Star;

So, without more ado,

The bear was led

Into a little shed,

THE BEAR AND THE BAKERS.

And housed, as they thought, for the night.
Bruin, however, did not like his quarters,
And, without asking if the thing were right,
Or sifting an important business through,
As reasonable people do,

Walked out; nor did mine hostess nor her daughters,
Nor guest of any sort behold him go.

By this time it was dark enough;
And Bruin walked into a common rough,
That lay behind the Golden Star ;

And there he wandered up and down-
When thus it came to pass,

A baker from the town

Was carrying fagots for the morning;

And he had not gone far

Before he saw what he supposed an ass,

In the dusk nightfall, shaggy, wild, and black;
So, without any warning,

He threw the fagots on his back,
Thinking it was a lucky chance

To meet with such a beast!

Bruin, thus taken by surprise,

Began to prance

And growl, and stare with fiery eyes.

The man, who never in the least

Expected such a spirited retort,

Stopped for a moment short;

Then sprang along o'er smooth and rough,

Expecting that a thing

So wild and gruff

Upon his back would make a sudden spring,

And eat him at a mouthful, sure enough!

157

Poor Bruin had no such intent,

But on he went,

Down to a neighbouring lane,
Picking his way as best he could.

But in my second part I will explain
The nature of the place whereon he stood.

PART IL

'Twas on the confines of that common hoary, Which, like a wall, stood up against the laneBecause the common was much higher groundSo that the houses standing there

Seemed at the back only one single story,

Though, in the front, they all of them were twain.
I'm very much afraid this will be found
An explanation rather dark and lame;
But as you read, you'll understand it better,
If you attend, at least, unto the letter.
But let us now unto the bear :-

'Twas to the back of such a house he came,
Built 'gainst this higher ground;

So that he found,

Without being in the least to blame,

His nose against a window-grate

Which opened straight

Into a well-stored larder.

In this small house there dwelt another baker,

A famous man for penny-pies ;

Of cakes and ginger-bread a noted maker,
And sausages likewise.